"Benefactor. You seem to be angered."
The mysterious voice called out again to Adolph but was completely ignored. Adolph did hear their call but he just chose not to respond. His attention was fixed on the daggers dangling from the thief's waist.
"Is something the matter?" the voice persisted.
With a swift motion, Adolph snatched one of the daggers from the thief. The thief's eyes widened in surprise, his hands gesturing as if to ask why Adolph had snatched his weapon.
"Hey, what did you get my dagger for?" the thief questioned. Adolph, however, didn't reply. Again. He stared hard at his reflection on the dagger's blade. His mask, in particular, caught his attention. That fierce reflection... those sharp eyes of his... they were glowing again—dim red.
"I see... Ready when you are, Adolph."
The thief grew impatient with Adolph's silence, finding it quite rude. He wanted to repeat his question and far louder this time. But then...
"Hey—ACK!"
Adolph snapped.
SCHULK!
A dagger found its way right to the thief's throat. His eyes bulged with surprise and disbelief. The thief tried to say something, but something else spurted out of his mouth. Blood—thick blood flooded his mouth. This red, gooey liquid overflowed when he tried to shout out his anger... his despair. His cry to live.
Was he crying?
SCHALK... CHUK!
Adolph quickly withdrew the dagger and stabbed it right back toward the thief's collarbone. The red-dyed blade easily pierced the man's body and more blood from the neck flowed down to where the dagger was planted.
"Die," said Adolph. His deep and sharp monotonic voice trembled the wavering life out of the thief he had stabbed. The thief clung to Adolph's forearm as if asking for forgiveness, begging to be let go. After a few moments, the thief's body became heavy. With life completely sapped out, his legs finally gave way. He was dead.
"I'll take this one, Adolph." the mysterious voice said.
Resurrection, Soul-Binding Of The Damned
The thief's body began to darken, desaturated, and coated in black. It didn't take long before their whole body was cloaked with shadow-like darkness. Then, the body started to change—to morph. The thief's body broke down into numerous sheets of dark matter, floating in the air like shreds of black cloth—moving unpredictably like a dark fluid. The thief's clothes and equipment fell to the ground, passing through the dark matter as if it were just air.
The dark matter disintegrated further until it was as fine as sand. Like dust, it swirled rapidly in the air. Shrinking... condensing into something. At the center of this maelstrom, an amorphous form of black began to take shape. Over time, as the black dust coated it, the form became more detailed. More pronounced, as if it was being brought to life.
Eventually, the shape became distinguishable. It was a small body, like that of a dog, with a petite head and long whiskers. Its fur was as black as midnight, with a bright stripe of white running along its tail and legs.
"A black... fox?" whispered Adolph. The black fox fell from the air where it was formed, landing among the equipment of the thief Adolph had just slain.
"Nice to meet you, Adolph," the fox said. It sounded like the familiar voice that was talking to him earlier.
Adolph subtly nodded in response. "Are you an ally?" he asked.
"I am more than your ally. I am your very first servant of what's more to come," the fox replied.
"What did you do with the man's body?"
"That was an incantation—our incantation. We are the reavers of the soul. The body material was the compensation for this body, the soul essence fueled the incantation's promise. An offering to suffice the law of the world, as always... and as it should be."
"Is that so..." responded Adolph, even though he didn't entirely understand what the black fox meant.
THUMP.
All of a sudden, a thin knife flew and perched right at Adolph's torso. "We don't know who you are, but you're dead!" a thief in the distance shouted.
There were five of them—all properly armored with padded vests except one who was bare naked. With short swords in their hands, they confronted Adolph with hostile expressions. The food and drink they had been feasting on were now tossed around their horrendous campfire, further desecrating what little dignity was left of Mycen's front yard.
The thieves advanced towards Adolph at a slow yet steady pace. Their fighting spirit was unwavering; their intent to harm was clear as a blade poised to strike. Meanwhile, the black fox made a rustling noise below, catching Adolph's attention. It unsheathed the other dagger of the thief from the ground and tossed it before Adolph's feet. The fox then stepped forward to front the approaching enemies they soon would face.
"Ready when you are," the black fox said with such confidence.
Adolph picked up the dagger on the ground that the black fox seemed to offer. Equipped, Adolph now donned a bloody blade on his right and a shiny one on his left. He then fixed his attention to their enemies who were only about a few steps away from them.
"Do you have a name?" Adolph promptly asked as he took a defensive stance.
"Niche. My name is Niche," the fox replied.
"You're mine!" The first thief came rushing towards the two, hoisting his short blade high above his head. His expression crazed—a reckless rush. Adolph moved forward slowly, while Niche jumped to the side to evade the incoming attack.
"Yargh!"
SCHRIT!
The downward slash from the thief's sword struck Adolph in the neck—a direct hit, cutting deeply into the upper left part of his chest. The thief gripped his sword's handle tightly as he locked eyes with Adolph's mask. The thief then let out a subtle chuckle—his arrogance. His smile spread into a devilish grin as he savored what he believed was an easy victory.
But he was wrong. Very... wrong.
SCHULK!
The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.
Adolph simultaneously stabbed the daggers on his hand at the opposite temples of the thief's head. His victim shortly shrieked in pain; drool sprayed and blood spewed around. The thief jolted violently before going still as if his energy had been abruptly drained. Lifeless, the thief released his grip on the sword embedded in Adolph's body. He remained standing only because of the blade planted in his head. Adolph let go of the daggers in his hands, and the thief slumped to the ground.
Adolph was about to withdraw the short sword stuck in his body when he noticed the rip in his armor. The cut was visible, running deep from his neck down to his chest. His armor was now scarred...
So what?
Aye, such a thing wasn't enough to faze Adolph. It didn't even raise his concern. Right... None of it mattered as long as he could still move his body—and that was enough for him. Adolph pulled the sword from his body and pointed it toward the four remaining foes, who stood dumbfounded in the distance. The weapons in their hands visibly shook... their once daunting expressions began to waver. After the battle's opening, the enemy's feet found themselves retreating to the campfire.
Niche then ran towards the dead body of the thief whose head now sported a pair of dagger handles like beast horns. The fox stood on top of the body, focusing intently on the corpse's head.
"We grow with their souls, therefore we thrive in death. Don't forget this, benefactor," said Niche with a mournful tone in its voice.
Salvation, Soul's End Guidance
The body was then slowly enveloped in utter darkness once again. It didn't take long before the black surface dispersed into a thousand small sheets of dark matter, much like what Adolph had witnessed earlier. However, this time, the body remained unchanged on the surface—unaffected. The dark matter compressed into a blob about the size of a fist and floated in front of Niche. It danced and flickered like a ball of darkened flame; so ominous yet enticing at the same time.
"This is a soul essence. One of the components that forms life," explained Niche.
"Wha—what in the hell did that dog do to him?!" exclaimed the naked thief in the distance. The other thieves around him were equally shocked and unable to respond.
Niche found their remark quite displeasing and shot a fierce glare at the thief who addressed Niche as a dog. Meanwhile, Adolph ignored their distant banter. He forgot about the battle for a moment, his focus locked on the soul essence Niche had mentioned.
Niche waved his head towards Adolph and the dark orb of soul followed, floating away towards the same direction. It was as if Niche had passed it towards Adolph through means invisible to his sight. Enthralled by the mysterious thing, Adolph reached out his hand to feel it. The essence, in return, approached him as if drawn by a magnet.
As Adolph's hand made contact with the surface of the soul essence, it quickly went inside of him. Vanished. Disappeared, in an instant.
Bewildered, Adolph couldn't help but wonder where the essence had gone. Was it inside his body now? Inside his soul, perhaps?
"It is now in your privilege's domain." Niche interjected.
"In my what?"
Adolph's ignorance of the matter was abruptly interrupted as another flimsy knife flew toward him, landing near the first knife that had struck him. As usual, it did little to affect him beyond momentarily catching his attention. Nothing dangerous and instead of posing a threat, it just provided him with an additional weapon. A small disturbance. He simply disregarded the fact as he returned his focus to the soul essence absorbed in his hand.
"Bastard's not dying... Try with the hatchet!" grunted the naked thief in the distance as his nether regions waggled over the campfire before him. The perverted bastard doesn't seem to mind, nor the other thieves surrounding him.
One of the thieves obeyed the naked man's command and gripped a short hatchet in his hand. It was a short weapon; more suited for throwing than chopping firewood. With a wide arc, he wounded up the axe in his hand and gritted his teeth as he seeks for power.
"Grah!" exclaimed the thief as he performed his most powerful swing. The sharp whistling of the hatchet sliced through the air as it traveled its way toward Adolph, who noticed the attack way too late.
SCHRUT!
The hatchet found its mark just below Adolph's armpit, embedding itself in his torso below the tear left by the short sword earlier. Now, with a body adorned with two knives and a hatchet, Adolph's frame resembled nothing less than a makeshift weapon rack. As if he became a target practice—one that moves and still lives.
"You're quite the apathetic person, benefactor. But your armor isn't meant to be a dummy for these people," remarked Niche, striking at Adolph's detached demeanor.
"Doesn't matter. They—" Adolph grasped the hatchet's handle embedded in his torso before continuing, "—can't kill me with these things anyway."
After casting an intimidating glance at their enemies, Adolph turned to Niche at his side. "What is a soul essence?" he asked the fox.
Adolph's curiosity about the soul essence was palpable, but his disregard for the impending battle was unwise given the circumstances. It was nothing but an arrogant act, and arrogance was always been the harbinger of failure. With a sense of urgency, Niche redirected Adolph's focus back to the battle, engaging him to take it with more seriousness. "I'll explain later, benefactor. But for now, we have a battle to handle—" Niche's voice was abruptly drowned out by a menacing shout from the enemy's side.
"What the fuck's going on here?!"
With deliberate steps, another rough-looking persona entered the scene behind the dilapidated hovel. His large build and menacing demeanor marked him as the most formidable troublemaker among this pack of thieves. He appeared at the corner of the ash-painted walls, accompanied by two more accomplices.
Adolph overheard whispers among the remaining thieves by the campfire. With trembling voices, a name could be distinguished by their whispering.
Barth.
"Well, who's our guest?" Barth questioned his cohorts. "Where are the others? Why are we greeting him with such—the fuck are you doing?" He paused, glaring at the naked thief by the campfire. Displeased, Barth smacked the naked thief on his face before continuing his supposed introductory speech. "Why are we doing this with such a small... silly... and cold party?"
"Are you the leader? The one who ordered this raid?" With his gaze fixed on his new opponent, Adolph didn't waste his time on idle formalities.
"Hoho... The answers to those questions are different names. But sadly, I cannot tell you both, wolf-mask. What I could tell you though is that right now, I sure am the strongest around here."
"So you are the leader," concluded Adolph.
"Feel free to assume, my man!" replied Barth as he threw both of his hands into the air. As Barth slowly approached him, Adolph had a good look at this new opponent he and Niche faced.
Barth possessed rather a large and imposing figure with a barrel-like torso that strained against the confines of his black overalls. Burnt into both of his bulky shoulders were tattoos... resembling the shape of a coin, visible beneath the grime and ash that stained his attire from the recently raided hovel. His face was round and fleshy, with small, beady eyes set deep into his ruddy complexion. A tangled mess of greasy, dark hair fell in unruly strands over his forehead. Ugly... but strong—an impression that struck Adolph immediately.
As Barth advanced, a thief behind him offered him something: a large, heavy battle axe.
"Oh! Almost forgot this," Barth remarked nonchalantly as he accepted the weapon from his subordinate.
The blade of Barth's axe was nicked and stained with dried blood. Despite the massive size of the axe compared to his frame, Barth wielded it with unnerving ease. As he raised the axe and rested it over his shoulder, Barth's presence changed... for the worse. Exuding a menacing aura, a combination of brute strength and a ruthless disposition loomed before Adolph.
"Now then. Time to explain yourself, wolf-mask. Which family ordered you to intervene here? What is your purpose here?"
Niche snarled fiercely at Barth. This black fox's courage doesn't fail compared to Barth's intimidating presence. Meanwhile, Adolph remained unfazed—his mask with a never-changing, fierce expression was indifferent to Barth's intimidation.
The bright and golden glow of the sun setting over the horizon filled the entire standoff with a beautiful afterglow. Shame—such beauty shall soon be tainted red with more blood.
Adolph tightened his fist that received the essence from Niche. His resolve steadfast; Adolph boldly stated right in the face of Barth, "Do I have to kill again?"
Barth, face bulging and visibly irked by Adolph's defiance, retorted with much disdain, "Say that again, wolf-mask—"
.
.
.
"—after I split your sorry ass in half."