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Swordsman For Hire
CHAPTER 34 - THE CURSED BEAR

CHAPTER 34 - THE CURSED BEAR

CHAPTER 34

THE CURSED BEAR

Mark rode along the frozen dirt road, his horse's hooves crunching against the icy surface. Each breath he exhaled puffed out in visible clouds in the biting cold. The wind howled through the barren landscape, carrying fresh snowflakes that blanketed everything around him. The sky loomed overhead in a dull, oppressive gray, the clouds thick and endless.

In the distance, he spotted a small village nestled against the bleak horizon. Smoke curled lazily from the chimneys of thatched rooftops, promising warmth. Spurring his horse forward, Mark urged it into a faster gallop, eager to escape the bitter chill.

When he reached the village, the streets were deserted, the biting cold driving everyone indoors. The only sound was the wind whistling through the narrow pathways. He guided his horse down the solitary road until he spotted a large wooden building with a stable beside it—clearly an inn. Dismounting, he led his horse to the stable, tied it securely, and patted its neck before heading inside.

The inn was modest but inviting. A few villagers sat around wooden tables, drinking beer and chatting quietly. A crackling fireplace at the far end cast a warm glow over the room, fighting off the chill that seeped through the walls.

Mark approached the counter, where a striking woman stood. She couldn’t have been older than her twenties, with long blonde hair, piercing blue eyes, and a dress that intentionally showcased her ample curves. Mark’s gaze drifted for a moment before she caught him.

“Are you going to order something,” she teased with a smirk, “or just keep staring at my boobs?”

Mark didn’t miss a beat. With a roguish grin, he replied, “A beer and whatever food you’ve got would be nice.”

She chuckled, fetching a frothy mug and a steaming bowl of soup. Setting them down in front of him, she leaned on the counter and added with a wink, “If anyone else stared like that, I’d tell them to fuck off. But since you’re easy on the eyes, I’ll let you look. Or maybe do more.”

Mark raised his mug, gulping down the beer with a smirk. “Tempting offer. But first, I need to know if there’s any work for someone like me. I’m a sword-for-hire. You got any trouble in these parts?”

The woman tilted her head thoughtfully. “Some folks here claim they’ve seen a bear near the village. Not just any bear, though—one that stands and walks like a man. Bigger than any bear they’ve ever seen. Could be they were just drunk, though.”

“What’s your name?”

“Sobieslawa.”

“Sobieslawa, I ain’t working for free. What’s the offer?”

“Food and drinks on the house. Plus, we can sleep together.”

Mark chuckled. “I thought we were going to have fun anyway. Seems like you’re double-dipping on the deal.”

She laughed. “You caught me. Fine, food and drinks are the payment. Take it or leave it—I’m not shelling out coin for what may turn out to be some drunken fantasy.”

Mark shrugged and finished his beer. “Not much of a bounty, but it’ll save me some coin. Guess I’ll take a look.”

He left the inn, mounted his horse, and galloped out of the village, the cold wind biting his face as snowflakes drifted down. He rode in wide circles around the village, scanning the snowy landscape for any sign of the creature. At first, nothing seemed unusual—just a quiet, desolate winter scene.

But as he headed north on his third sweep, something caught his eye. There it was. The creature stood upright like a man, its muscular frame covered in thick fur. Its chest looked eerily human, with defined muscles resembling six-pack abs. And it was huge—far larger than any bear Mark had ever seen.

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Sliding off his horse, Mark unsheathed his sword, gripping it tightly.

“Human,” the creature growled, its voice low and gravelly. “I have a craving… a craving I cannot hold back! Leave! Leave now!”

Mark held his ground. “I’m not going anywhere. Don’t know what you are—bears don’t talk—but whatever you are, you’re going down.”

The bear roared and charged, still on two legs, moving with frightening speed. Mark sidestepped just in time, letting the beast barrel past him. Before it could spin around, Mark slashed across its back, his blade cutting deep. Blood splattered the snow as the creature howled in pain and fury.

It turned sharply and swiped at him with a massive clawed hand. Mark ducked, but not fast enough—its claws raked across his cheek, leaving a stinging gash.

The beast struck again, swinging its other hand in a brutal arc. Mark raised his sword to block the blow, the blade biting into the thick hide of its arm. Blood oozed from the wound, but the skin was tougher than anything he’d faced before. Despite the force of his strike, Mark couldn’t sever the limb.

The bear roared again and lashed out with its other hand. Mark yanked his sword free and backpedaled, putting space between them.

“I… I… I…” the creature stammered, its voice rasping with a strange human tone. “Metamorphosis!”

Mark froze for a moment, the word striking a chord. He remembered seeing it in Vivian’s spellbook. Witches could curse humans, turning them into monstrous, animal-like forms. These cursed beings would retain their human thoughts for only brief moments before succumbing to feral instincts.

Mark quickly began chanting the counterspell from memory. “Forma bestia, solvo te, reddo humanitas!”

The beast roared and charged again, its eyes full of murderous rage. Mark tried to roll aside, but the creature was too fast. It slammed into him with crushing force, sending him flying onto the snowy ground.

Before Mark could recover, the beast was on top of him, its teeth inches from his face, breath hot and foul. Its claws pinned him down, the sharp tips digging into his arms. Mark’s blade was still in his hand, the point pressed against the creature’s chest.

He could stab it, but that might kill it before the spell had time to work.

“Stop!” Mark shouted, desperation in his voice. “You’re human! Fight the beast inside you! Control it!”

The creature paused for a fleeting second, its eyes flickering with something that might have been recognition—or hesitation.

A sudden flash of blinding light made Mark shield his eyes. When the glow faded, he opened them to find a young man lying beneath him, completely naked. The man’s hands—where the bear’s claws had been—still pinned Mark’s arms. Mark’s sword was poised against his chest.

“Careful,” Mark warned.

The man quickly released Mark and scrambled to his feet, his face flushing red. Mark stood and slid his sword back into its sheath, brushing snow off his clothes. He chuckled. “Well, you can’t exactly walk around like that, can you?”

“I… uh…” The man stammered, his blush deepening.

Mark walked over to his horse, rummaged through his belongings, and pulled out a thick coat. He tossed it to the man, who caught it and hurriedly wrapped it around himself.

“Thanks,” the man said with a faint smile. “My name’s Sokolov.”

“Care to explain how you ended up cursed into a bear?” Mark asked.

Sokolov sighed. “Yeah… I had a fling with a woman from the woods near my village. Her name was Triska. Turns out, she’s a witch—doing gods know what kind of dark magic. When I broke things off, she cursed me.”

“Well, you owe me. I lifted your curse and spared you when I could’ve just finished the job.”

“I don’t have anything on me right now as you can see, but if you escort me back to my village, I can pay you there.”

Mark nodded. “How far is it?”

“About five days’ journey,” Sokolov replied.

“Fair enough. First, let’s stop at the village here. Your stay will be covered as part of my reward for dealing with the ‘bear.’ We’ll set out in the morning.”

Together, they headed back to the inn. Sobieslawa greeted them at the door with her usual warm smile. “Who’s your friend?” she asked.

“The bear,” Mark said, grinning as he launched into the story.

“You’re bullshitting me,” Sobieslawa replied, crossing her arms in disbelief.

“Nope,” Mark said. He patted his sheathed sword. “And I don’t take kindly to people backing out of their end of a deal.”

She laughed, shaking her head. “Relax, I wouldn’t cheat you out of your reward. Besides,” she added with a sly smile, “that tough attitude just makes you even hotter.”

“Oh?”

“I like dangerous men,” she teased, winking.

The day passed in a blur of food, drinks, and laughter. That night, as Mark settled into his room, having stripped off his armor and clothing, there was a knock at the door.

“Can I come in?” Sobieslawa’s voice called softly.

“Come in,” Mark replied.

The door opened, and her eyes widened as she saw him completely naked. She let out a small gasp. “You’re even more handsome—and muscular—than I imagined.”

Mark smiled, pulling her into his arms. Their lips met in a passionate kiss, his hands sliding down to grip her waist. He lifted her effortlessly, tossing her onto the bed. Clothes were quickly discarded, and their night was filled with fiery passion, Sobieslawa’s moans echoing through the room.

The next morning, Mark rode his white horse out of the village, with Sokolov seated behind him, clinging to the saddle. Together, they galloped toward Sokolov’s village, where Sokolov promised to make good on his debt.

And so, once again, Mark was back on the road—this time, with Sokolov by his side.