The man and Adolph stood just three steps apart, yet the knife in the man's hand felt like it was already at Adolph's throat.
"Say Hodum... leave that pouch and take off that armor and I'll free you. I'll pretend like all of this never happened, alright?" The man's words hung heavy with a dubious promise.
Yes, an empty promise... to which Adolph recognized instantly. This man couldn't be trusted. Adolph glanced at the pouch in his hand and planned for immediate action. He could hurl the pouch to distract the man, then dart past him while he was preoccupied. It was a simple, yet solid plan, yes—it wasn't bad at all. That's what he thought, but...
"That's bad, Hodum." A stranger's voice manifested behind him.
THUMP!
Adolph suddenly felt something on his back; a stab, and a powerful one. It pierced through the leather armor covering his torso—a sudden flanking attack... by another man.
The realization struck him: the man in front was never alone. All of that talk was just a diversion and now, they had Adolph completely cornered. The assailant behind him swiftly retreated to the side.
The knife was embedded within him. Yes, he felt it... the presence of a knife, and nothing more. It was more like he was aware that a knife was planted behind him. No discomfort. No pain. No blood. Just... a feeling.
"Hiehihiehee..." The man who had stabbed Adolph giggled like a maniac. "That was your liver, Hodum... if you even know what that is. Oh well, why am I bothering to explain this to you," the man added.
But of course, Adolph knew what a liver was. And he also knew that he was not Hodum. The attack didn't affect him at all. Instead, he just gained a free weapon. Adolph reached out for the knife behind him and retrieved the knife from his body.
"The idiot actually pulled it out. Now he's going to die sooner than expected," remarked the man who stabbed him.
"Right, and now the offering to the Overlord will be ruined with his blood! You fool!" exclaimed the first man who had appeared.
Adolph couldn't care what the two in front of him were arguing about. Amidst their argument, he silently executed his plan.
Adolph took out a piece of the drug and tucked it into the furry lining around his neck—an area concealing a gap between his head and torso. The blue drug then slipped into his body. He felt it roll around inside, made its way towards his left leg, and settled down on his left foot. This confirmed what he suspected all along: everything inside the armor was nothing but air. Hollow, as expected.
Pretty convenient... at least in the current situation Adolph was in, though he wasn't exactly pleased about it for some reason. The fact that a stab wound wouldn't hurt at all was a stroke of luck. A great luck, bolstering his confidence and courage to escape.
"Hey! What did you do, Hodum?" asked the first man who appeared earlier.
"Rather, why didn't he pass out yet?" questioned the other man, visibly surprised to find the knife he had used to stab Adolph still clean and shiny.
"Look! There's no blood on my knife!"
"What? Did you miss?"
"I planted it behind him and you still think I missed?"
Amidst the confusion, Adolph hurled the pouch at the man who had stabbed him earlier. Without hesitation, he dashed forward, knife extended before him, hoping to intimidate the other man and force him aside—but he was wrong. Though slightly delayed, the man reacted fast, approached Adolph's charge head-on, and intercepted it.
"You fuc—"
SQUELCH!
A simultaneous stab. The man's knife found its mark in Adolph's chest, while Adolph's blade pierced his opponent's heart. In a struggle, the man let go of his knife and attempted to strangle Adolph with his bare hands.
"You're not... getting... away from... here," the man gasped weakly. The sound of Adolph withdrawing the knife from the man's heart was accompanied by an icky, squelching noise.
Blood. Poured forth from the man's pierced chest, thick and red, spilled into the man's cloth. Life ebbed swiftly from the man's body as the strength in his hands slackened. As Adolph let go of the bloody knife on his hand, the cold body of his foe slumped lifelessly to the ground.
An accident. An unfortunate scene from plans gone awry. Adolph had just committed murder, yet strangely, he felt nothing... Yes, Adolph didn't feel anything about it.
Now free, Adolph noticed the man behind him had regained his composure, though the man remained frozen in shock. "You... you killed him..." the man stuttered, his voice filled with fear.
Adolph turned toward the man, who recoiled in terror as he caught sight of Adolph's mask. He was so scared—his expression mirrored that of someone who had encountered a fearsome beast. The mask, adorned with eyes that had once faintly glowed gold, now had eyes that bore a darker red hue. An aura of intense bloodlust seemed to emanate from Adolph, though he remained oblivious to it. Aye... Adolph wasn't aware of this. Had it been sprayed with the man's blood? Regardless, Adolph didn't have the chance to find out.
With the opportunity seized, Adolph dashed out of the tent. It was bright. The brightness outside momentarily blinded him with its intense red glow. It stopped Adolph on his feet—his vision slowly adjusted to the brightness.
Before him lay a clearing encircled by towering trees, their shadows swaying in a mysterious dance within the darkness. To his left and right stood two more tents, and several torches illuminated the area. Tanning racks stretched animal hides, while a stack of more wooden crates was situated at one side. A wooden table surrounded by tree stumps like chairs can also be seen. An encampment. For one this size, the two people Adolph met inside wouldn't be enough to operate it. There had to be others nearby. And so, Adolph heightened his guard, wary of potential threats.
THUNK!
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A heavy blow struck Adolph from behind, like a hammer, sending him stumbling forward onto his knees. They had flanked him yet again. Luckily, he was alright—it was nothing but a blow behind. He quickly regained his footing, turning to face his attackers.
"Tough bastard. He's still standing?"
"No way—is that a knife on his chest?"
In front of the central tent, a group of men lined up. All of them were clad in the same outfit as those Adolph had encountered inside. One, two, four, six... plus the one still inside the tent. Seven thugs in total—a definite count.
Four people darted past Adolph, two on each side. They moved with caution, careful that they maintained a certain distance away from Adolph. They positioned themselves in a circle around Adolph, gradually closing in on him. Adolph removed the knife stuck from his chest and armed himself against the impending fight.
"How can he still stand after that?"
"He's a monster... Don't let him get away!"
The thugs grew increasingly agitated at the unbelievable resilience Adolph displayed. Of course, no normal man could have survived that knife wound on the chest nor stand up immediately after being bashed behind the head. But for Adolph, his case would be an exception. After all, he wasn't normal... nor a man.
The man who had been inside the tent from which Adolph had escaped finally emerged. Panting, he tightly gripped a bloodied knife in his hand and pointed it at Adolph. "That's him! Hodum! He... He killed our courier!"
The other thugs reacted with surprise and anger at the news delivered by their comrade. As a response, they swiftly readied their weapon in front of them. Assuming serious stances with faces contorted by intense emotion, their eyes locked onto Adolph.
Adolph scanned his enemies around. Some hands were equipped with machetes, some had gripped short hatchets. One who had a bigger build than the others stood out with a hefty, long axe in his hand.
"You're dead..." declared the big thug with the long axe. Adolph pondered on the limits of his body for he didn't know the condition of how his new body would die. But he guessed he would soon find out after this battle.
Once again, Adolph stared eye-to-eye with death. He just met it a few moments ago... Maybe death liked him so much that it wanted to have a second look at him. Inevitable. Adolph blamed his unfair luck that he seemed to carry over on this short-lived new life of his.
Death again... But aye, it wouldn't hurt to invite someone to be a company in the afterlife.
Adolph tightened his grip on the knife in his right hand, raising it pointedly towards the big thug wielding the long axe. Bent low with knees flexed, both arms poised in front and at the ready. It was a calm provocation that strongly exclaimed a single word. This was Adolph's challenge. Come!
SCHULK!
A sharp sound sliced through the tense atmosphere just as the fight was about to erupt. It was swift, a projectile that whizzed dangerously close to Adolph's head before embedding itself in the chest of the big thug he faced. Stuck at the big thug's chest was a thin stick adorned with feathers at its end. An arrow, without a doubt. It had come from behind, from the shadows among the trees.
"Argh!" the big thug groaned in pain, clutching at the arrow in his chest. The other thugs swiftly redirected their attention toward the trees from which the arrow had been loosed.
"Show your—ACK!" One thug didn't finish shouting before another arrow struck him in the chest. Another one followed swiftly and found its mark on his forehead, delivering a fatal blow that sent him slumping lifeless to the ground.
The remaining thugs scrambled for cover: behind the crates, inside the tents. One even went and slid below the nearby table. Only Adolph and the big thug, now brought to his knees by the arrow in his chest, were left in the open. The thug grimaced in pain, clutching at the arrow lodged in his torso. With a swift, agonized motion, he yanked the arrow free, staining his upper clothes red as he wrestled with the pain.
THUNK! THUMP!
More arrows whistled through the air towards the camp—one at a time but in different and unknown directions. Each arrow struck with precision, hitting the elements the thugs sought refuge and missing the heads of their targets by mere inches.
Shifting footsteps could then be heard shuffling behind the trees in the distance. Moments later, another volley of arrows was unleashed. This time, they found their mark among the thugs hiding behind crates and the poor bastard who slid under the table. The arrows didn't become more accurate but rather came at a better angle. The shooters in the darkness had already encircled the camp—nothing outside was safe anymore.
Four bodies were felled by the assault. Apart from the big thug at the center, only two enemies remained, cowering inside the tents.
"Cowards! Face me like warriors!" shouted the big thug, brandishing his axe towards the trees surrounding the camp. The mysterious shooters, however, didn't honor the thug's request. Another arrow was shot directly in his eye—one that even made the ball inside pop out with spurts of watery blood. What followed were four more arrows, each striking with deadly accuracy at different parts of his body. Like a living pincushion, he ate five of those merciless arrows—a sure ticket to hell.
"Curses..." After a brief struggle to keep his empty pride standing up, his body finally collapsed, wasted on the ground. Defeated. The big thug was now out of the picture.
"Hands in the air, stranger!" A commanding voice, mature and powerful, rang out from behind Adolph. A resounding order. Adolph knew that these folks were the mysterious shooters and his wisest choice would be to comply. Up in the air, he threw his hands.
"Let go of the knife!" What came next was a different voice—younger and slightly husky compared to the previous one. Sure. Adolph let go of his knife. He did their demands, and now what?
"Restrain him, Charon," commanded the powerful voice. "You four, take your positions in front of those tents," he added.
Suddenly, someone kicked the back of Adolph's knees, causing him to collapse and fall. Not stopping there, they pushed Adolph's head forcefully to the ground, their weight bearing down on him, pinning him effectively. Swiftly, they seized both his hands with swift movement and secured them behind his back. Something wrapped around Adolph's wrists like a playful snake. It coiled around several times, tightening until it felt much thicker and rendered both of his hands immobile—restrained.
"Keep your head down," whispered the younger voice behind him. Adolph turned his head slightly to catch a glimpse of those who had apprehended him.
One of the men wore a furry black cape and a fine black hat adorned with a majestic white feather. His face bore wrinkles that suggested his seasoned age, and his gray beard hinted at wisdom. He raised a short sword toward the tent on his right.
"Come, Charon. This one's first," the old warrior called out to someone behind Adolph. The man in question finally stepped into Adolph's sight. So this was Charon... He was rather young—his dark, clean-cut hair matched the color of the midnight sky. Sharp eyes and a chiseled jawline completed his youthful appearance. He wore a brown leather vest over a white tunic, and each of his arms was armed with short knives.
He approached the entrance of the tent where two more young men awaited. Both were dressed in simple white tunics and pale brownish pants, each with a thick belt strapped around their waists. One, with a quiver of arrows on his back, readied a bow and aimed it toward the tent's opening. The other stood nearby, hands equipped with a knife, poised and ready to strike.
At the entrance of the middle tent, another pair mirrored this setup, following the old warrior's earlier command. This group positioned themselves strategically, targeting the tents where the rest of the thugs hid themselves.
They were quite a disciplined group, but the disparity between their clothes suggested that they weren't a party of soldiers. What brought them to this remote camp? What were their motives? And most of all...
.
.
.
Who are these people?