My senses feel limited.

I can only hear exasperations and huffs.

I can only smell the same putrid and fetid wavers that have been in my nose for weeks.

I can only see dark blends of colours.

The only contact I make is with other people in the exact same place as me.

That's how awful this space is.

I either beat them down or they will be my end.

I'm faster than these aggressors.

But that's about as far as it goes.

I find myself constantly dodging and weaving.

Occasionally the odd strike smashes into my shins or ribs.

But I grit my teeth and punch into the darkness.

There's only one way.

Coating ones body in world-energy.

It feels like a great use.

But it's hard.

Really. Really. REALLY hard.

So much so that I've only been able to hold it there.

I can't move with it.

So that's what I do.

3 silhoeuttes surround me.

Encompass me.

I roll backwards.

As I raise my head and my hair flies upwards I see the gameplan.

First, I strike my fist forward.

The first man has an incredible blithe grin as he sees this.

He readies his muscular arm for the hit.

Boom.

His right arm is bent backwards at an unimaginable angle.

He entered the parameters of world energy.

He looked at his arm and it took a few seconds for the realization to make its breakthrough.

"Huh."

I kick his crotch.

"MMMMPH."

His eyes tear and his face instantly becomes darker.

He keeps his mouth shut as he holds onto his crotch area with one hand.

I don't know where he felt that pain.

From his arm or his crotch?

Probably a mix of both.

I swiftly dashed forward, placing my left hand on his chest as he winced and his skin was covered in red and green colours.

Boom.

His figure went flying back into the wall.

That's 1.

For the next one, I feel like I cannot lose no matter what I do.

So I don't think of a strategy.

Rather, I just cover my entire body with as much world energy as I can.

And I jump forward with arms wide.

Boom.

Another one hits the wall.

Two bodies lay unconscious and blood-ridden.

I wasted too much world energy for the last one so for the next one I just leave my two arms out.

Boom-. Boom.

Another two go down.

The plan is working flawlessly.

The muscle brains just take the bait every time.

Now there are only 5 left and 2 are pretty injured.

But so am I.

I'm losing a lot of blood and running out of energy fast.

My muscles are already trying to give up.

If I lose motivation or my hold of my body for a second, I'll lose.

I feel like a God.

For 2 more seconds.

I was grasped by the next man.

He's twice as muscular as the rest.

His hair is cut horribly and his breath is coarse and feral.

What to do.

My arms were clamped tight.

My legs were protecting my crotch.

Hmm.

Those are some pretty nice teeth.

I lifted my head towards his grinning mouth. His teeth were perfectly aligned and all present.

I coated my head in world energy as it met just a centimetre before his teeth.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

The sound of wails came from this muscular behemoth.

His teeth flew backwards all at once as small fountains of blood spurted from every gum-hole in his mouth. Numerous long strands of his gums leaned down in his mouth.

He let go of me almost instantly and used both his hands to press down his gums and alleviate the pain.

Wailing all the more.

But alas, I had already achieved my goal.

A man stood behind him, ready to assist his comrade.

Not today.

Doing a second kamikaze jump I covered myself in as much world energy as I could. So much so that even controlling it for a second hurts me deeply.

And I dove sideways with my right elbow leading.

Boom.

Boom.

The man who was clawing his teeth with teary eyes crashed into the man behind him.

Now the wall was well-populated with unconscious bodies.

A small silent waterfall of blood carried down.

As I admire my work I feel like I'm floating.

I'm not. I'm just being lifted by two muscular men so the third can beat my ass.

Wait. What?

The man from the start with the blood streak down his face charged.

He has no technique, he just rampages wildly.

I can't move my arms at all.

My legs are flailing at the men behind me.

I'm low on world energy.

He winds up a right hook.

His arm goes round and round.

He isn't laughing anymore.

Rather his eyes are a paling white as they vigorously gaze at the target.

His mouth is tightly shut.

What do I do?

Wait.

Chrrrz.

The sound of lightning crackling grows as a lightning charge inflates behind me.

My connected hands finally reached my mind.

At first, the men tried to keep their resolution, however, the red lightning became so hot that they soon gave up.

It looked like red plasma as it continued to grow.

Only after I waved it across the ground did it disperse.

Raising their hands, I dodged to the left.

A heavy, charged weighted punch implanted right into one of the men's faces. I felt like I had watched it squash into itself in slow motion.

The man knelt down and coughed spit, grease and blood. His face was a painty red and his nose was crushed.

I used the opportunity to blow a knuckle into his face whilst he was down.

"Guh."

His kneeling body soon fell backwards.

Now there were two left.

I used the last of my world energy to blow the other one back.

Boom.

A faint air trail was visible within the darkness.

And then there was one left.

He had a streak of blood going straight down his face.

And he was tired.

We both were.

Our pants resounded in the small space.

But neither of us gave the other the opportunity for rest.

He prepared a right hook.

Knowing I couldn't even fathom matching a muscular adult man's fist I charged a lightning attack.

Bzzt.

His fist flew straight into it.

His eyes grew weary and his mouth wailed openly.

He was not scared to show his real emotions now.

I kept charging more and more lightning shocks.

I swiped left and right, causing blood to spurt with every movement.

Soon, his face wasn't even recognizable.

As he was on his last legs I pushed him.

That's it.

I just pushed.

And he slowly crumpled to the ground.

He tried to get back up yet couldn't.

And then he found himself lying there.

Dying.

As he waited there I ended his pain.

I ran up to him with great speed and swung my right foot backwards.

"Gruh."

My foot smashed open his chin.

A small spurt of blood rose before falling calmly.

I stood silently in the middle of the corpse fest.

The smell of the ruins had still not changed.

I took a seat on one of their backs.

It was just me, and 9 muscular bloodied and unconscious men.

My muscles finally gave in to the aching.

I felt an odd vibration travel through each part of me.

I was too tired to do anything.

Despite the awful setting I just needed some rest.

I was no athelete.

The atmosphere was noisome and imbued.

I was ready to go to sleep right then and there.

My mental state was that worn out.

Then some wet footsteps echoed behind me.

I now noticed it had been raining.

Not to the level of a drizzle but rather strong rain.

I had been so invested in the fight that I had not noticed once.

I heard the deafening footsteps as my ears twitched. They broke through the sound of the rain blipping the ground.

I was now aware that someone was standing 3 feet to my right.

I turned my head with effort and looked up.

It probably looked a lot worse than I had attempted.

But I was tired. I needed to pass of a death-stare so that some random slob didn't steal all my loot.

My eyes were filled with my emotions as I stared directly into them as amain as I could.

That should work.

My red eyes were all that one could see from such an angle with all the muddied colours in the dark enclosure.

Due to the heat of the moment, they were sparking with thunder.

It wasn't much but it was impossible to avoid.

Infact, it was the only new colour in the bland blend that was this environment.

But that man also stood out. Not with cocolorlour but from his... character.

In the mud, trash and garbage. In the putrid air, heavy droplets and slimy textures.

It was a man.

He had short blonde hair. It was wavy and was curled backwards.

His face was somewhat aged and quite oiled.

His clothes were extremely laced and noble.

He had a scent of strong cologne if I were to use Earth terms.

His posture was straight as could be and his face had a pleasant feel to it.

His voice was mature and controlled.

"Hello Young Man, how would you like to be my daughter's body-guard?"

He drew his face towards mine.

Orange, peachy eyes. I was still confused of course.

Eh?

Right now?

I evaluated the situation.

It probably looked like I had just beaten up 9 muscular men. And I definately look dirty and young.

That's who you want as your daughter's body-guard.

Its a good offer but...

Is he sane?

I just looked at him wildly, my face making so many expressions that I couldn't keep up.

He merely accepted my looks and took something from behind his back.

"Forgive my presencecene. I am Count Craul. I own some land to the south of here."

He did a short bow to me.

"And I believe this is yours?"

He took out my blade.

I drew my hand out slowly.

The battle took its toll as my hand shook slightly.

I took the blade and sheathed it again.

"I'll take that offer, Count Craul."

I did the best bow I could and used my best words for the situation. Keeping my eyes humbly shut.

Before we left I went to pick up the coins that had rolled away.

"Oh."

I had a surprised and contained clamor behind me.

"You won't be needing those."

He showed me a big of numerous silvers the scarce gold.

I don't know what they were worth.

But I could tell it was a lot from the way he treated it.

I found myself following this strange man.

We soon reached a carriage.

The two men guarding the gate looked at the situation in confusion.

They pointed and muttered.

"Oh, don't mind them."

The Count noticed my annoyance.

And as we left for somewhere strange I presumed.

I had one last look at the Silver-Cross Knight. He was looking towards the sun.

To the right of where we were.

I pinched my sheath tightly.

I was still far from invincible.

The sound of horse clops and clods resounded as I tried to sleep.

The scenery gradually became more yellow and beige.

The people became kinder and happier.

The looks I received also became more.

And soon we were at the hem of a grand mansion.

It was of a maroon colour and had several white attachments.

Its size was the biggest in regions we had gone by.

And I soon found myself staring in a daze.

A butler attempted to take my sheath but I instinctively drew my sword halfway.

"Sorry."

I kept my head down.

Everything was happening too fast.

The count cut in for me.

"Let him keep it. He's no normal butler Albert."

The Butler now Albert, nodded meekly and returned to his formal position.

I looked around as I felt the warm wind caress my skin.

As my hair blew sideways.

As my life changed.

For a split-second, doubt rose in my mind.

Why was he so nice?

Why was he so accepting?

What is his motive-?

But I stopped.

The count, who had just begun helping a gardener pull out a particularly challenging weed laughed it off and patted them on the book calmly.

"They aren't all Vorgio."

"Sorry?"

I shook my head as Albert tried to interpret my words. I had forgotten he was here.

"It's nothing."

Before we went into the mansion, The Count introduced me to a seemingly religious man passing by. I noticed this due to the cross he wore as a necklace.

It wasn't a small tiny gold cross.

It was a huge iron cross. It looked as though it could be around 15 KG. And signs of stress were showing on the man's neck.

Talk about devotion...

"Boy, this is our personal priest."

"This is the new Bodyguard."

I saw a man with plain brown hair, a completely average face and an average build.

He had just enough fat to not be skinny and nowhere near enough features to be classed as handsome or unique.

"I'm Kahn."

"I'm-."

What to do.

Make up a name on the spot?

"Vibrakolah."

It was a dark,low and sullen mutter.

I don't know what would have happened if he heard me that day.

Or maybe he did. I don't know.

Kahn looked at me oddly.

"Hmm?"

"Brala."

I shook his hand which he had not offered.

"I'm Brala."

He gave me a normal smile. Nothing sweet and nothing salty.

I gave him a short bow before leaving soon.

I didn't like that guys seemingly flawless normality.

And I'm oddly perceptive on first appearances.

That guy. That guys right hand had a shifting tatoo.

Maybe it was culture. Maybe it wasn't.

But I made sure to keep a mental note of this Kahn priest.

I just sure hope he doesn't bring me any trouble.

Protagonists free mental note.

Brala.

Vibra -Vi= Bra

Kolah- Ko= Lah.

Take away the h since it's unnecessary.

Brala.