Kinro clashed with the Orc Chief. Though the orc stood at twice Kinro’s height and weighed more than a thousand kilograms, Kinro had no trouble swatting away the creature’s attacks. Sword clashed against axe several times before Kinro altered his stance and took a step into the orc’s attack range. The swordmaster grit his teeth and started focusing entirely on offense.
With an upward slash, Kinro carved a large red X on the Orc Chief’s chest. In that same moment, the orc’s axe struck Kinro’s head. Kinro turned his head at the last moment, diverting most of the force away, but the strike still drew blood.
Paying no heed to his own well-being, Kinro cut deep once more into the orc’s midsection, and the orc responded in kind. The axe struck Kinro’s shoulder, causing him to bleed significantly.
Before I could line up a shot on the Orc Chief, the battle was over. Slowed by its wounds, the orc swung its axe at Kinro’s leg, but Kinro caught the axe with a powerful stamp of his foot. Kinro took this opportunity to cut deep into the orc’s arm. Kinro took a step onto the orc’s massive elbow, extending the range of his sword just far enough to reach the orc’s vitals.
A slash caught the Orc Chief’s neck. Orcish blood covered most of Kinro’s body as the Orc Chief let out a death gurgle. Kinro lifted his blade in a powerful two-handed grip and brought it toward the orc’s neck like a lumberjack striking a tree. The second blow connected, and the Orc Chief’s massive head detached from its body, thumping to the ground like a sack of potatoes.
As the Orc Chief’s corpse crashed to the ground with a thunderous roar, Kinro took a faltering step backward and wiped the blood from his face. The wound he took in his shoulder was deep, but it wouldn’t be life threatening. As he turned to face me, his expression was almost casual.
I considered the power contained in every one of Kinro’s swings. With every level gained, a fighter’s strikes became more powerful. At his level, I wouldn’t be surprised if a cut from Kinro’s blade dealt more than 60 damage.
“Now all that’s left is the dragon,” Kinro said as he returned his katana to its sheath. He rotated his shoulder and winced in pain as blood streamed down his arm.
A group of people began to slowly emerge from the church. Some of them wore the vestment of Nyx’s clergy. In order to prevent any uncomfortable conversations, I covered the blood rune on my left hand with a glove and controlled my breathing to lower the heat emanating from my staff.
As the benefits from my [Blood Enhancement] wore off, I fell to one knee. The disease had exhausted my body so significantly that it was hard to stand. Just as I painfully lifted myself to my feet, I heard the voice of an older man come from the direction of the clergy.
“Is that you, Count Feldrast?” the man asked.
“Close, but no,” I answered. “I am his son, Thale Feldrast.”
Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
The group approaching from the church held about ten individuals, and three of them wore white stoles around their neck, informing me that they were priests who lived by Nyx’s stringent code of nonviolence.
The priestess standing to the right of the group of clergy froze in place at the mention of my name. At first, I figured that she must have been frightened by the nature of Hellfire. The priestess was in her late teens, and her body language betrayed a deep anxiety. The holy robes and priest’s stole seemed strange on such a young woman, but that was just the pre-conceptions from Earth. Nearly half of Nyx’s clergy were priestesses.
She seemed entirely unexceptional, and I couldn’t immediately put my finger on why I was paying so much attention to her. The priestess had brown hair that reminded me of my mother, and she seemed to have a hard time looking me in the eye.
“Thale,” the priestess said. The familiarity of the voice jerked my gaze toward her eyes, and I saw that they were a deep red color.
“Miriam,” I said, dumbstruck for a moment. She had changed so much over the years that I didn’t realize it was her until I saw her eyes. Though she had grown, her disposition was much the same. Her body language was still anxious and uncertain.
A second later, my shock transformed into guilt. I had not seen Miriam since that solemn day many years before, and any communication between us had been limited. All communication between my family and me had been via letter, and my irregular address made such communication very difficult. The last time I sent a letter back home was almost two years ago.
“You two need to get inside before that dragon comes back around,” the older priest said as some of the people in the group approached Kinro and me. Based on their body language, they intended to physically support us back to the church.
“I don’t need any help, thank you,” I said, waving the good samaritans back. “I wasn’t injured during the fight.”
One of the people grabbed Kinro by the arm to help him, but Kinro lightly shook him off. The helper was thrown slightly off balance by Kinro’s superhuman strength.
As we walked back to the church, many of the people with us looked over at the group of dead orcs in awe. An area about the size of a city block was scorched with black soot, and a horde of incinerated orc corpses littered the ground. One of them said at a volume just loud enough for me to hear, “He killed all of them in an instant…”
I leaned heavily against my staff as we walked. The ache in my body had become so great that it was only a matter of time before I passed out from exhaustion. I would be out of commission soon without healing.
“I’m the high priest of this church,” the old man said quickly as we walked. “Everyone calls me Father Galen. We are in your debt. If there’s anything we can do for you, just ask.”
“I think I’ll take you up on that offer,” I huffed as we started ascending the marble stairs toward the church. “We came here for healing. I need disease and wound healing. The samurai over there needs wound and poison healing.”
“He’s poisoned?”
“No,” I said, trying to keep the embarrassment out of my expression. “He’s drunk, and I need him sober.”
“He did all of that drunk?”
“Well, he’s more sober than usual,” I joked.
The church’s heavy wooden double doors closed behind us, and some of the priests’ helpers began to pile pews and other heavy pieces of furniture in front of it.