The morning was cold and all but pleasant for Lodwin. His old and new scars ached with dull pain, while he could feel the cold of the night linger in his bones despite the fire. Veduca seemed unbothered. Then again, she didn’t need most common necessities of an ordinary human.

Suddenly, he noticed her rubbing her hands absentmindedly while he collected their few belongings. After packing away the last few things, he approached her with his bag on his shoulder. He looked at her intently, while figuring out how he could best ask her about it.

“Lod?”, she addressed him with a soft smile, while turning into her more human looking mask once more. “Is something the matter? Your glare is quite intense.”

Lodwin ignored her last remark and pointed at her hands before rubbing his together and mimicking blowing on them.

“Are you asking me if I’m cold?”, Veduca asked, and her smile brightened.

He nodded.

“Oh, Lod! You needn’t worry about me”, she evaded his question. “I’m fine.”

He squinted at her.

“Really”, she replied with an amused chuckle. “I’m telling you the truth.”

Lodwin left it at that and walked ahead out of the building, but the moment he opened the door he was met by a familiar grim face. It was Imila, the innkeeper, whom they accidentally antagonised. She held a rusted spear in her hand and wore a worn padded doublet with a few miss-matched pieces of dented armour, which reminded Lodwin of the guard they had encountered at the entrance of the village. Despite the intimidating expression on her face, some of her true feelings of uncertainty broke through.

“Good morning, Imila!”, Veduca greeted her, almost too cheerful. “You look like you’re out here to fight someone. I do hope it isn’t us, as we’re about to leave this village. There’s no need for violence.”

“I’m not here to fight you”, she replied, as if carefully considering every single word. “I’m here to tell you that I’m going with you.”

“What?”, blurted Veduca out.

“You heard me!”, Imila hissed and looked like she was about to put her spear through her.

Lodwin reacted immediately and stepped between them while loosening his sword in the sheath and glaring at her. The innkeeper reacted immediately and backed slightly away while frowning at him.

“S-sorry about that”, Veduca replied and put her hand on Lodwin’s holding the sword. “I didn’t mean to upset you. It’s just… My companion and I are going to kill the Knight of the Divine Lord in Eldebourg and then move on to find the Divine lord himself. Neither of them are what should be called remotely human anymore. They’re worse than everything you could imagine.”

“Don’t dare and think me foolish, girl”, Imila snarled. “I know I’ll mostly likely die a rather unpleasant death sooner rather than later. But what else do I have but my husband’s old armour and my brother's broken spear? I have nothing left, and before I die like some starved diseased beast, I’ll rather die fighting!”

Lodwin respected her attitude, but having her along the way was out of the question. Not that he worried about her safety, as she seemed well aware of the danger. But her presence alone was more than an inconvenience. It made it increasingly difficult for Veduca to heal him fast once he became injured. And not to speak about the hysteric fit Imila would throw once he would sustain a mortal wound and not die from it. He could vividly imagine her attacking him and Veduca on the grounds of thinking them henchmen of the Divine Lord, who played with her.

With a huff, Lodwin pushed past the innkeeper and headed to the street. But she didn’t let herself be ignored and held him back by the shoulder. He stopped dead and slowly turned his head towards her. Upon seeing his scowl, she didn’t flinch away but for a moment, there was clear hesitation in her gaze.

“I won’t let myself be brushed off like this!”, said Imila, insistent.

Lodwin deepened his scowl and drew his sword.

“Lod, no!”, called Veduca and forced herself between them.

“Your companion doesn’t want to kill me, young lady”, the innkeeper said, while still staring into Lodwin’s eyes.

I want to test her, he signed.

Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

“Uhm… Well, I guess this is alright but…”, Veduca began, uncertain of what to say. “Lod? Can I speak with you for a moment?”

He nodded again.

“Fine”, Imila remarked with a content expression on her worn face. “I’ll wait on the street.”

Without sparing them another glance, she left Lodwin with Veduca on the broken threshold.

“Please, don’t maim or kill her,” pleaded Veduca once Imila was out of earshot.

Since when do you think so poorly of me?, he asked her with a few frustrated gestures.

“Sorry about that”, she apologised. “It’s just… You glare at her about as much as you glared at those bandits, who had attacked us the other day.”

I’m no bloodthirsty beast.

“I know.”

I’m just going to beat some sense into her.

“I… Alright, Lod, I believe you’ll do the right thing. But, please, make sure you won’t hurt her much.”

Promised, he signed her by placing his hand over his heart and bowing.

Veduca smiled a little, then she went to Imila, who had watched them the whole time. Lodwin followed her as silent as a shadow.

“You two have an odd way of talking”, the innkeeper remarked idle.

“At first it was quite complicated, to be frank”, she replied with an uneasy smile. “But we have travelled already for so long, we have our own language without words. Does this make sense?”

“Somewhat…” Imila replied and gazed over at Lodwin, who had watched them while keeping his distance. “What were you two talking about?”

“Well, Lod said you need to best him in a fight.”

“You’re straight to the point, aren’t you?”, she asked amused and stepped aside, her spear at the ready.

“I just do not wish to prolong things unnecessarily”, Veduca replied with a strained chuckle.

Lodwin drew his sword and moved past her. Immediately, she stepped away and cast secretly a spell. He suspected she was using her magic to keep this fight hidden. Although it didn’t sit well with him, he knew it to be better than having suddenly the rest of the village gawking or even involving themselves in it.

Imila raised her spear without a second guess and planted her feet firmly on the ground. Judging by her posture, she seemed to have been taught at least some basics, but Lodwin was well aware that this alone didn’t make someone skilled. Moreover, she hadn’t put up much of a fight the last night.

Lodwin loosened his posture while tensing up his core muscles, something he had taught himself as it made it easier to withstand blows made when faced with a weapon with a longer range. Imila seemed to notice his arms slacking and saw this as her chance to make the first blow. To her credit, he had to admit that she was very fast and her aim considerably good. But he was stronger and faster. Still, her ability with the spear was much better than her prowess with the knife or the axe.

They exchanged hefty blows. Sword against spear. Metal against metal. It annoyed Lodwin that he had to hold back. After all, she avoided and parried his blows about as often as he did. At the same time, he felt a certain rush he remembered from his days hunting down monsters and wicked sorcerers.

It was the need to overpower.

The need to crush.

The need to destroy.

During his early apprenticeship, his instructors had taken note of this lust for battle within Lodwin. While useful, it also posted danger not just to him but also his companions. Thusly, he had received special training to control his urges.

Stay mindful of your body and position.

Keep the positions of your companions at the forefront of your mind.

Stay aware of your surroundings and your enemies position.

Don’t strike blind.

Concentrate on the tip of your blade and let it become a part of your being.

Keep your body and mind grounded.

Stay aware of your weakness.

Avoid unnecessary strains.

Lodwin tried to bring this advice to the forefront of his mind but failed. Through the change in his nature due to what Rosomil had done to him and the influence of the contract with Azazel, he did remember those instructions, but he couldn’t process them.

Heartbeat after heartbeat, he felt his caution melt away, along the resolve to hold back.

His blows became harder.

His mind intoxicated by the rush.

He didn’t just want to crush the innkeeper, he needed to do so.

He must do so.

The power Azazel had gifted him made it even easier to crush his enemies.

Imila’s resolve flattered. Her movements became slower, uncertain. Fear flickered in her eyes.

There! An opening!

With frenzied precision, he aimed for her heart.

Suddenly, a strong tuck.

His sword and arm were pushed away.

Confused and rattled, he could only watch as Imila used this forced opening and rammed the blunt end of her spear into his abdomen.

The air was forced out of his lungs as an intense pain bloomed from his belly and spread searing hot through his whole body. Lodwin gasped for air but couldn’t take it in. With a thud, he found himself on the ground.

“I won!”, cried the innkeeper, triumphant.

Lodwin stared at her and forced the growl down that clawed its way out of his throat. She moved away from him with a concerned expression.

“So it seems”, said Veduca with a nervous smile, Lodwin could still feel her lingering magic around him.

Angry, he stood up and walked to her. He put his sword away but grabbed her hand and forced her to look him in the eyes. The startled expression on her face didn’t sit well with him, but he was too angry to let it really sink in.

“Can we talk later?”, she asked softly.

He clicked his tongue and let her go. The last remainder of the rush ebbed away. In a sense, he felt more at ease, but this jaded feeling paled in comparison to the presence of the innkeeper they now had to deal with. Perhaps Azazel could do something about her, but somehow Lodwin had the feeling the demon wouldn’t mind her.

“Now that everything’s settled, why aren’t we heading out already?”, Imila asked impatient. “Daylight won’t linger.”

“Right!”, Veduca said enthusiastically and moved towards her but turned after a few steps to Lodwin. “Are you coming?”

With a sigh, he adjusted his clothes and grabbed his bag, which he had left at the entrance of the house, and followed them with some distance. This was going to be a long walk to Eldebourg. To add insult to injury, a cold, soft drizzle set in.