Novels2Search
The Fifth Life
The Swamp (2)

The Swamp (2)

The nightmare that attacked town took longer than expected to fully kill. Nightmares felt no pain, and had no self preservation instincts, so killing one so mig involved a lot of thrashing and meticulous stabbing. By the time the beast had finally stopped moving, and was moved to a suitable area to burn, Lucian had returned to the middle of town.

Lucian was to report the information and help formulate a plan while Erik tried to get the animals corralled and somewhere safe.

“They took Roger,” Dwayne shook his head and took a heavy swig of ale. He slammed his cup onto the table they were sitting at. “Those bastards! The stables and barn are important to the town. We need him.”

“I’d like to have Radish back,” John added as he struggled to clean the thick black blood of the nightmare off his spear. “I had a bottle of concentrate on his saddle that would clean this shit off instantly.”

“How much is missing?” Dwayne asked.

“It’s hard to count with so many escaping into the wilderness,” Lucian explained, “but Erik said that there’s quite a few that were well trained enough to come back and they haven’t. Apparently it was a large group and they took at least twenty to thirty animals.”

“It’s clear that their motive was to steal the animals,” Lucian continued decisively, before his tone became more confused, “but blowing up the wall and letting a nightmare in? I don’t even know how they managed to direct one without having it maul them.”

“They could have used one as bait to lead it into town,” John assumed. “But the guards swear that the first thing they saw was the fire magic that blew the wall. In all my years I’ve never seen anything like it.”

“That fireball was no joke, either. None of those bandits should be able to cast that,” Dwayne said with a frown.

“We don’t know the motive, but we should strike quickly,” Lucian suggested. “With the adventurers in town we have enough talent for a coordinated attack.”

“Nobody wants to go into the swamp, it's infamous,” Dwayne dismissed. “Attacking might jeopardize Roger’s safety. Negotiation is a safer path.”

“They used a nightmare to attack the town,” Lucian argued.

“It’s my decision to make, boy.”

“So angry,” Lucian teased. “No offense… actually all the offense. Your plan sucks. Here is some wisdom - never negotiate with terrorists.”

“My number one goal is the preservation of life. You talk about fighting and dying way too casually, kid,” Dwayne interjected, his brow furrowed. “The more people die the higher the chance another nightmare forms. You may not know much about the world, but there are two taboos that every race knows and accepts - no breaking promises and no senseless killing. That separates us from animals.”

Lucian scowled, his arms crossed tightly over his chest.

“I have to agree with Dwayne here, Lucian. If we can make sense of why they did all this then maybe we can reach a resolution without any more bloodshed,” John stated his side.

“No retribution?” Lucian sounded disgusted. “You’ll let them kill your men for no reason and then fly a white flag? How long until the next person dies? What happens if there’s not a platinum ranked adventurer to help?”

John sat rigidly and looked at Lucian with a series of complex emotions, but anguish and disappointment stood out. “No, son,” he said softly, but firmly. “You’re not wrong, but you’re not right. Stop being so overly focused on what could go wrong. It’s our duty to try, at least. Try to make things go right. At the end of the day the bandits are human as well.”

“I've known a lot of them since they were young,” Dwayne said solemnly. “There’s good among them. Someone is just misleading them. It’s better to parlay and learn more so we can make more educated decisions.”

“All you’re doing is planting seeds in barren soil and expecting it to grow. You need to uproot and till the old soil so you can actually grow something beneficial and not just weeds,” Lucian countered.

“You’re not being productive, Lucian,” John chastised.

Lucian's eyes narrowed, his jaw clenched. He felt a bubbling anger rise in his chest, but he fought to keep it under control.

“I sincerely feel the opposite,” he responded tightly.

“Then we’re at an impasse, so Dwayne and I will continue this conversation without you.”

Lucian's hands balled into fists at his side. He couldn't believe what he was hearing. He opened his mouth to argue back, but before he could speak, his father's voice interrupted.

“I’m your father Lucian,” John's voice turned heavy, his eyes boring into Lucian's. “So I’ll only tell you once… leave.”

Lucian felt a lump form in his throat, and he swallowed hard before roughly pushing out of his chair and storming out of the room.

----------------------------------------

Lucian was angry. He felt like his ideas were so easily dismissed and he was being labeled as an immature boy that didn’t know much about life. Lucian knew plenty - he had lived longer than the both of them. It was a marvel and his father and Dwayne hadn’t realized that life was more than just idealism and people were wronged more than they were right.

He understood their logic, but to him, it seemed weak. Why negotiate with thieves and murderers? The only language they understood was violence, so the only way to talk to them was with swords and magic.

Lucian couldn't help but feel that Dwayne and John were clinging to some naive belief in the goodness of people. It was a luxury he couldn't afford. He had seen too much, in many different worlds, to believe that everyone could be reasoned with. Sometimes, you had to be willing to get your hands dirty to protect what was yours.

Lucian’s priority was keeping his father safe. After what he saw last night, he had no reservations that his father was strong, but that weak mindset he had just witnessed was alarming. How many times had he seen someone die due to such complacency? Lucian wasn’t going to let John fall into the same pitfalls.

He could care less what happens to this shitty crossroad town that he didn’t even know the name of. All he wanted to do was get to the Nuno tribe and get a new arm. After that they would go home and rejoin his mother and sister and everything would be okay.

If Dwayne wanted to play with fire, who was he to stop him? He had warned him that he could get burned and that was all the due diligence Lucian was going to give him.

In the end, Cranberry and Radish were good horses and Lucian wanted nothing more than to rescue them, but he wasn’t going to risk his fathers life. All he could think about was his father and Dwayne laying down their weapons, looking to negotiate, and then being ambushed or poisoned in death.

He knew how it went. He had assassinated plenty of people in his…

Lucian clutched at his head, his thoughts were fuzzy and confused. What life was he an assassin again? Wait, was he an assassin? When did he do all that? What smelled like burnt toast?

“Whatever!” he said out loud, dismissing those thoughts. Glancing around he realized he was near Erik’s farm. “It must be the barn that smells,” he assumed, walking across the grassy fields and towards Erik’s house that was a few hundred feet away from the destroyed barn.

“Erik!” he called, knocking on the door. Nobody responded so he tried again after a few moments.

Lucian had only known Erik for less than a day, but he knew that Erik wasn’t the type to leave someone unanswered. Lucian fanned out his hunter’s instinct, he could immediately feel that nobody was in the house.

Erik was gone. He looked down and saw a trail leading out of the house. There was a fresh track that led to a shed on the side of the house and then towards the barn. The tracks were deep, as if Erik was stomping. The gait was strong and led directly towards the swamp.

That idiot had actually gone alone into a swamp that a platinum ranked adventurer was wary of.

Somehow, Lucian felt that this might be on brand for Erik.

Lucian mentally deliberated whether he should tell his father or not. On one end, his father was capable and had plenty of experience fighting nightmares. The opposition was that it could be dangerous and his father could get hurt.

Besides, he was probably working with Dwayne on what they would trade to appease the bandits.

Go in, find Erik, kill all the bandits and leave with the horses. It really didn’t seem too complicated, Lucian decided, as he walked the two hundred yards towards the swamp.

Nature always had a pulse. There was a certain wavelength that all the plants and animals in an area were attuned too. The fundamentals of Lucian’s sensing was based on attuning himself to an environment's wavelength.

Taking a deep breath, he allowed a lid to be taken off his psyche. He let his basic instincts as an animal emerge and started to immerse with the area around him.

He could feel the humidity in the air and how the gentle breeze carried the scents of the swamp towards him. The wind was blowing south, since he was downwind it would make hiding so much easier.

Lucian’s unique ability allowed him to sense the subtle nuances of his surroundings. He had a deep understanding of the ecosystem around him, from the way the plants and animals interacted with each other to the subtle changes in temperature and texture of the ground underfoot. This connection with the swamp was almost molecular, as if he could sense its DNA. With this sixth sense, he perceived things that others might miss, like the way animals moved through the underbrush or the energy flowing through the swamp.

In one life, long ago, he was an apex predator of a rainforest. If you took a tiger and threw it from one forest to another it would still adapt and reign supreme. He allowed that feeling to consume him. It filled him with confidence.

Lucian launched off the ground and into a tree. The swamp was lush and teeming with life. He felt comfortable amongst the subtle chaos of nature.

He started to traverse the swamp by expertly swinging from vines and nimbly hopping from branch to branch. It was harder now that he was missing an arm, but he still moved with speed and grace that most humans could never even approach.

He could sense two distinct types of foreign energy. There was the empty nothingness of nightmares hiding in caves and under the murky depths of the swamp. Now that the sun was out they were mostly unmoving. Like venus flytraps they waited for an unlucky being to get close enough.

A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

The other foreign feeling was that of humans. The swamp was unkind and the bandits understood that. They nervously lived amongst the lurking nightmares and dangerous animals around them.

There was a large congregation of humans in the distance - the base camp no doubt. Even from where he was he could feel the fear and anxiety of all the captive animals. They were caged, he could tell.

The formation of which the bandits guarded their camp was a wide ring around the outer perimeter of camp. Sending scouts was akin suicide with all the dangers around, so they had set positions. The bandits worked in duos and were about fifty meters apart from each other. It was just close enough to be in shouting distance.

The defense was porous. Lucian could infiltrate into the middle of the camp easily, but he could see how it was effective in spotting larger groups. He sensed around fifteen groups standing guard - thirty people.

There were around twenty more in camp. It was a larger force than he had realized. Fifty was approaching the amount of guards the town had. He didn’t know how well equipped or adept at magic the bandits were, but if it was comparable to the town then Dwayne had a fair reason to be so cautious.

A head one battle would be deadly. Luckily for Dwayne, Lucian was going to solve his problem.

Lucian prowled through the swamp and towards the camp. He couldn’t sense Erik anywhere, and if he was in the camp then Lucian couldn’t differentiate him, so he decided to take out any potential threats first.

It took around ten minutes for him to get close enough. He paused, hidden in a canopy of a tree and observed his targets.

There was a hill that two bandits were perched on. It was high up and allowed them a pretty good view of a wide area of swamp. The vantage point was good, but it was dangerous as there was a steep drop into the viscous water below.

At this time of day, around eight in the morning, it was unlikely for any threats to approach, so the bandits were relaxed. They were having an animated conversation on the best way to eat beef as they idly lounged in the grass.

It took him a few more minutes just to get closer to the duo. He had to move slowly, meticulously, to make sure they didn’t notice him. Without making a single noise he stalked closer to his prey. Soon, he was above the bandits in a tree and within striking distance.

Lucian drew his sword, shadows warping around his blade and preventing even the slightest glimmer of light from reflecting. With only one arm he knew he had little room for error.

He lunged from above. In an instant he drove his gladius deep into the neck of one of the guards and killed him instantly. The other guard fell back, shocked. Lucian pulled his sword out and impaled the other bandit in the heart. The life left his eyes quickly.

Lucian stabbed his sword into the ground and dragged the dead bandits, one by one, to the edge of the hill and dropped them into the swamp. The water was so thick and slimy that the bodies barely made a sound as they landed.

He’d be genuinely surprised if anyone manages to find them. The only clue was the blood he left behind, but after a few days it would fade as well.

Lucian darted back up a tree and started to rotate towards the other group. In the lull of the early morning he had the advantage. The bandits had their guard down and weren’t ready to make split second decisions. Lucian guessed he had a second and a half after he killed the first bandit to kill the partner. Even without his right arm it was doable.

Approaching a new duo, he noted that one had a bow and the other a spear. Lucian observed them for a few minutes, trying to gauge who to attack first. The spear user seemed to be the more talkative of the two and was rambling on about anything and everything. The bow user was stoic and was more focused on the feathered fletching on the back of one of his arrows.

It was an easy decision.

There weren't any trees close enough to them for an ambush, so Lucian had to creep through the wet brush to get closer. His breathing was slow and controlled as he slithered towards them. There was no quick way to stalk closer, and it took him over five minutes to move just a few feet to get close enough.

He erupted from the brush. In one motion he swung his gladius and sliced the throat of the spearman before straightening his blade and stabbing the bowman in the same area. They both collapsed and started to choke on their own blood.

“Sleep,” Lucian said softly. The spearman struggled and writhed towards his killer, his eyes pleading to Lucian that he did not want to die. The bowman had accepted his fate and stared at Lucian with cold, hollow eyes.

“Sleep,” Lucian whispered again as they died.

There was no good place to hide their bodies, so Lucian just dragged them into the brush. He checked their clothing for anything beneficial, but all he found was some money on the bowman and photographs on the spearman.

The spearman had a lovely family, it seemed. Too bad he chose the life of banditry. Lucian tucked the photos into the spearman's collar. If, somehow, no predator ate his body then maybe his body can be taken back to his family. Either way, Lucian wouldn’t be losing any sleep over him.

Lucian continued to rotate clockwise around the bandits defensive perimeter. His ambushes were simply too unexpected and precise for any duo to react quick enough. The average skill level of the bandits weren’t anywhere close enough to challenge him.

It took him just over an hour to kill the remaining thirteen groups. He could have done it quicker, but he prioritized being safe and not grabbing anyones attention.

He had no idea how long until the guard changed and he was inevitably discovered. He crept into the camp, resolving to kill as many as possible before he was spotted.

The camp was a dismal place, filled with the stench of stagnant water and rotting vegetation. It was situated in a small clearing, surrounded by tall, spindly trees that made the ground uneven with their twisted roots. A thick fog clung to the ground, eerily obscuring everything more than a few feet away.

The camp itself was made up of rough-hewn wooden structures, cobbled together with pieces of rotting wood and moss-covered thatch roofs. Crude tents made from animal hides and salvaged fabric were scattered around the edges of the clearing, and a few fires flickered here and there, casting dim light on the murky surroundings.

What really caught Lucian’s eyes was the ridiculous amounts of cages all over the place. The makeshift prisons were filled with all manner of creatures, each confined in their own tiny corner of captivity. Steel cages held bulls, their nostrils flaring as they snorted in distress, while wooden crates held chickens that squawked and flapped their wings in agitation. In one corner, a group of rabbits huddled together in a large wire pen, their soft fur matted with mud and filth.

He could see horses, sheep, dogs, cats and birds of all kinds.

But it wasn't just livestock and domestic animals that were being held captive. In the glass boxes, Lucian spotted a kaleidoscope of colorful insects, their wings fluttering against the clear walls as they searched for a way out. Spiders of every shape and size scurried across their webs, watching with beady eyes as the humans passed by.

Lucian grimaced. Whatever they were doing, it was much more than just stealing animals for food.

The bandits in the camp stayed in much larger groups than just two. A group of seven sat around a fire, eating and chatting. Across the camp there was a group of three who were practicing their archery by firing at a tree. Another group of seven had geared up and were walking out of camp deeper into the swamp. He could feel a few around the camp sleeping in the tents.

As he waited for the group of seven to get further away from camp Lucian started to weave his incantations. For the large group he started to form a larger scale fire spell. For the group of three a wind spell would suffice since they had bows. His mana would be thin after that point, so had to save the rest to reinforce his body.

After around twenty minutes, the group that had left was a sufficient distance for him to start. If they did hear the explosion and tried to run back he would still have ten minutes to finish everyone off and hide.

He crept through the camp, taking care to avoid stepping on any twigs or dry leaves that might give him away. The canopy of the swamp was thick, and only small pockets of sunlight penetrated the gloom. His shadowsteel sword bent the light around him, rendering him nearly invisible as he moved like a cat, crouched low and slinking silently towards the tents.

The animals in the cages watched him with wide, curious eyes, but Lucian paid them no mind. His focus was entirely on getting to the sleeping bandits. A dog barked, and Lucian froze in place, waiting for a reaction. But the bandits were so accustomed to the sounds of the animals that they paid it no heed.

Lucian continued on, inching closer to the tents with each passing moment.

With his sword held tightly in his hand, Lucian entered the tent. There, two people slept on the floor with cloth mats.

He approached them slowly. Normally he would use one hand to cover the person's mouth and the other to slit their throat, but he wasn’t afforded that luxury anymore.

One of the sleeping figures was on his back, completely open to attack, while the other was sleeping on his side and had his vitals more protected.

Lucian crept to the one on his back and swiftly slashed his neck.

He woke up and flailed, clutching at his throat.

The other figure turned, tiredly wondering what the fuss was.

He had no time to react as Lucian drove his sword into him, ending his life as well.

Lucian wiped his blade on a blanket and stood straight, letting out a deep exhale. He had already killed more than half the camp, but his work wasn’t over yet.

Lucian's eyes darted towards a gleaming object on a nearby desk, catching his attention. Without a second thought, Lucian swiftly picked up the gold card, examining it closely. The card's surface was etched with black flowers, arranged in a whimsical pattern that seemed to twist and turn before his very eyes. The only word on the card, written in neat cursive, read 'devure'. The card felt oddly heavy in his hand, and he couldn’t help but feel that it was important in some way.

He pocketed it and stealthily left the tent. In a tent directly next to him was the final sleeping presence he felt.

When he reached the entrance of the tent, he paused, taking a deep breath before slipping inside.

He stopped, jaw slightly agape as he saw Erik peacefully sleeping in a cage.

“Of course,” he muttered.

Erik had carelessly marched into the swamp and got captured immediately. Lucian wasn’t sure why he expected it to go any other way. Erik had his moments of quick wit, but also had his moments of absolute dullness.

He could see a set of keys nearby, but he didn’t feel the need to grab them.

If anything, Erik was safer in the cage than wandering around the swamp holding him back. He would free him after he dealt with the bandits.

Lucian walked out of the tent and walked through the camp without hiding. He approached the group around the fire and stood a few meters away, his sword outstretched towards them.

One of the bandits noticed him.

“Hey, who is that-”

With a fierce concentration, Lucian focused his energy onto the tip of his sword, causing a ball of flames to emerge. The small orb of orange fire expanded and twisted with such intensity that it almost seemed alive. But then, in a sudden moment of compression, the fireball transformed into a blinding white mass of pure destruction.

Without hesitation, Lucian sent the fiery projectile hurtling towards the group of bandits, its trajectory leaving a trail of light in its wake. Upon impact, the ball exploded into a raging inferno that engulfed everything in its path. The force of the blast shook the cages so violently that the cries and shrieks of the captive animals echoed throughout the entire camp.

The group of seven stood no chance and were sent flying. They were either dead or injured enough that they wouldn’t be able to challenge him.

Lucian turned around and marched towards the rest of the bandits. The final three were running towards them, bows at the ready.

When they saw him they didn’t hesitate and started to fire arrows at him.

Lucian charged. He channeled a wind spell. A wall of wind, invisible to the naked eye, formed in front of him and deflected every arrow coming towards him.

The guards faltered, not knowing why their arrows were missing. They tried to draw the swords at their hips but it was too late.

Lucian was upon them. He thrusted his gladius into one’s chest and sliced through his rib cage. Twisting under a diagonal slice from another he kicked into the attackers kneecap, breaking his leg and sending him tumbling to the ground.

The last one circled him hesitantly, fear etched on his face. He attacked with a heavy overhand swing that Lucian read instantly.

Lucian parried, deflecting the sword with power the bandit did not expect. Knowing he was wide open, the bandit closed his eyes as Lucian slashed him across the chest.

The bandit with the now broken leg was crawling away, screaming in agony. Lucian started to walk towards him, sword glistening with blood.

“M-monster!” he cried. “Stay away!”

“No,” was Lucian’s response.

Before he could finish the job a wave of maliciousness filled his senses. Lucian stopped and swung around, sword ready.

Something was calling for him. He could feel a powerful creature sending its intent into the swamp - It was desire that was directed towards him.

Whatever it was, it wanted his attention.

Lucian started to follow the malevolent intent. He walked through the cage filled camp and found a wooden path he hadn’t noticed before. The wooden planks that formed the path bridged over the thick sludge of the swamp and led him in a direction he hadn’t expected to go.

He followed it fearlessly, his body tense and ready. By how easily he killed the bandits, he could tell that none of them were able to launch a spell capable of destroying the walls of the town. The only presence he had felt that seemed complex enough to cast a high level spell was the one in front of him.

The leader most likely. The head of the snake.

Previous Chapter
Next Chapter