"—and STILL, the creature told us what it was going to cast! Unbelievable! Just unbelievable!", Avanthere concludes. "Now, what are you up to? Oh, you went inside the forest. Why the hell would you go inside the forest? Your shooting alerted everyone in the damn area, and you said you can't see in here!"
"Bandits outside. Easier to see me."
"Oh, yeah, and that fire of yours won't be easy to see. You know, the only light source in this place?"
"Dark inside. Harder to see me."
"You... Ah, you know what? Whatever you say."
The warlock continues his trek into the infinite darkness of the forest, the light on his finger barely lighting up more than a few meters ahead of him. The trees are far enough apart that they pose no threat of getting in the way, but the leaves fall slowly, but in uncountable numbers, and the branches of the trees are long and broad enough to force Agoir to duck and weave under them. One of the many in the fifty-kilometer-wide area of the Blind Forest.
"It's a little hard to sense creatures here.", the deity mentions. "The lack of light is rather unsettling, too. But in the best and most impressive way possible! But, still, it wasn't as hard outside. The creature you killed was inside the forest when I felt 'em coming, but now I can barely sense anything. I don't know what changed. There wasn't even a forest here last time I was awake."
Agoir keeps on walking.
"This is the part where you say, 'I don't know either', and get me to explain what's happening. I've prepared entire speeches for these moments, you know!"
"Meh."
His head is filled with an endless stream of voices letting out an endless stream of complaints once more. It has only been a few hours, but he has almost gotten used to it now. The same can't be said for the forest which is turning out to be more and more difficult to traverse as he goes on. The trees are still the same distance apart, but some of the branches are rooted at the bottom half of some of the trees, making navigating the forest less than ideal. Small animals are also running around, some of them even bumping into Agoir's feet. The falling leaves are catching fire from the flame on his finger, sometimes even igniting each other, and it's almost enough to make him flinch. Almost.
The animals are running away from him. Their whole lives have been spent in the cold abyss, and now a source of heat and light intrudes their home. Some of them are attempting to scare him away, growling and barking at him. Even the forest itself seems to be against the warlock, the trees blowing a soft, almost enchanting cool wind. A wind that makes him feel comfortable. At home. Like meeting a beloved after decades of war. A soft, welcoming wind that makes him feel... tired. Sleepy during a cold winter night.
"I feel weak.", he says.
"Where did that come from? Of course you are."
"No. Different. Wind, weird."
"What? There's not even anybody casting some wind-based spell against you. I knew you were pathetic, but this much? You surprise me!"
Agoir remains silent as he walks into the woods, his body slowly becoming limp. His eyes are starting to feel heavier and his movement is sloppier as the air caresses his body, putting him at ease despite his thoughts knowing something is wrong.
"... Hey, are you falling asleep!?", Avanthere asks. One of its million voices even had a hint of concern.
"Wind. Weird. Makes me... sleepy.", its warlock returns, his voice drowsy as his body loses balance every few steps.
"Like hell it is.", the voices let out, this time some of them disappointed. "Just don't fall asleep and fight back."
"Okay."
He lets his arm holding the torch-finger fall, dropping the fire onto the ankle-high grass that rules the forest, and uses his hand, now free, to punch his eye.
"... Did your ear grow pointy?", Avanthere questions.
"W... wraf?", Agoir says, his words no longer making sense as his body puts all effort into staying awake and upright.
"Did language evolve out of that metaphor too!? Wood elves are dumb. They have pointy ears. They do dumb things. You did something that was dumb. You must have turned into an elf."
"N, No... No. I, huma... n. Nn."
"Bah! Fine, fine, I'll get rid of your stupid sleepiness! Just stay alive, damn it."
It goes silent as Agoir leans on a tree and takes a seat, the mystic, welcoming warmth of the cool air having finally gotten to him. Glowing eyes shine in the distance, Agoir at the center of it all. They draw closer and closer as the warlock's eyes shut, no longer able to keep themselves open. Behind him is a strange light giving a comforting heat. The eyes all turn and run, while Agoir rests the back of his head on the tree and prepares to sleep once more. For the first time in three decades, he feels tranquil. He feels that sleep will finally allow him to escape all he has done, even if only for a moment. A moment of true, undisturbed peace.
And then he wakes.
"Huh?"
He blinks multiple times and looks around the darkness that does not seem so dark anymore.
"What?"
"Finally. Now get back on your bloody feet and get going!"
"What did you do?", Agoir asks as he gets up, his voice still as monotone as ever. But in his mind is genuine curiosity.
"I got rid of your need to sleep. It took me longer than it needed, but I had to decide if it was worth using the few souls you've accumulated to do that. A whole four seconds wasted! Ah, but you don't need to worry about sleeping now, so, like I just said... Get back up and move! This is your quest, and I, your spectator and patron, need something interesting!"
"But I like sleeping."
"I don't."
He remains silent and dusts his clothes as he stares at the heat behind him.
"Where did this fire come from?", he asks.
"How would I know? It's a fire, those are natural in this realm."
Shrugging it off and taking Avanthere's explanation for the phenomenon, Agoir walks away from his impromptu torch, now all grown up. One of the trees is completely engulfed in flames, yet it barely lights up more than ten steps around it. The tree does not burn, however. It only melts, shrinking little by little as the fire continues to spread, allowing the moon's light to pierce through the dense roof of the forest for the first time since its birth, and giving light where the fire cannot.
The forest sings. The forest wails. The forest weeps as the light infects its pure body. The wind strengthens, blowing those who crawl off of their limbs and knocking those who run off balance. Agoir's dark, unbuttoned trench coat flaps as the powerful breeze slows him down.
"Careful.", Avanthere states. "Seven creatures ahead and a lot of smaller ones even further. It was already hard to sense auras earlier, but it suddenly got harder. It's like the woods are out to get me!"
"You said people would be out to get me if you're here.", Agoir returns as he continues onward, hiding behind the trees to avoid being pushed back by the wind.
"Yeah, out to get you. Not me. You should be crawling with fanatics right now because you carry my presence! I, however, should be very safe because everyone thinks I'm dead."
"No we don't.", Agoir corrects.
"Ha! Yeah, right. Nobody even knows that... I'm still in this... Hold on, if you knew where to find me... People actually think I'm still alive!?"
"You are."
"Good job figuring that out! But if people know I'm alive, and all of a sudden there's some douche with my aura... Damn it all!", it curses while Agoir steps aside from a herd of deer running, some of them tripping and others getting hit by flying branches.
"I don't get it."
"A psychopath appearing from out of nowhere with my powers wouldn't be such a big deal if people thought I was dead!"
"Why?"
"Can't you figure that out from what I'm saying!? Other gods will know that instead of some fanatic follower of mine, you're actually my warlock!", Avanthere explains.
"I don't get it.", Agoir returns as birds caught on fire fly above him.
"What about that don't you get!?"
"Why is that bad?"
"You are going to make me go insane, and I'm already insane!", it yells in anger. "Look, above-creature-below-me, I have quite the legacy, yes? Everybody fears me! Some with malfunctioning minds worship me! And the other gods are either indifferent or hate me! This realm is full of those that hate me. I can easily overpower them all, but that's against the terms and service we agreed on."
"Terms and service?"
"Do they not teach you these anymore!?"
"No.", he answers just before feeling his ears twitch at the sound of distant talking.
"Is my only job for the rest of your quest to be an exposition dump?! Damn it, whatever! Something, something us deities are so~ powerful that we exist above mortal realms, blah blah, we destroy realms just by existing, this and that, something, we agreed to limit our aura to enter the realms, stuff, we settle fights with chosen champions to not destroy things.", it utters, its cacophony of voices all sounding tired of it all. "Do you get it now?"
"Yes.", responds Agoir who hides behind a tree as the voices in the distance become clearer. His mind blocks out the rest of Avanthere's explanation as all his focus goes to understanding what the people in the distance are saying.
"There's some smoke behind us.", a rough voice announces, cracking at the end. "Damn animals are running here too!"
"Did you someone start a fuckin' fire up there?", another responds.
"I couldn't see anything, but maybe it was Devochet?"
"Now that you mention it, where is she? Been gone a while, that lass.", a third voice asks. "Oi, Glavny, she told you where she was?"
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"She told me her illusion saw some 'Silver Spear scum'.", yet another voice says, this one deeper than the rest. Compared to the previous three, his voice is more refined, almost sounding professional. "She should be back by now, but something may have gone wrong."
"Shit, what if she did see Voyenalik!?"
"That's impossible.", the fourth voice exclaims, his previously steady voice slightly breaking up. "But it does not matter. Get ready to move out. We'll look for her and continue on with our mission. And if she's... No, no. She's an experienced fighter. Focus on packing up, we head out in five."
Voyenalik. The Strongest Warrior on Carvstni. The leader of the largest bandit clan on the planet, The Silver Spears. A warlord who has defeated armies and destroyed a nation on his own. None but the strongest can speak his name and not feel fear, and none but his own can be saved from his wrath. Dragons have fallen before him. The strongest adventurer, the most powerful mercenaries, and most fearsome assassins, to the weakest fighter, average farmer and youngest child. All of them have been slain by his hands, and countless more continue to fall before him. A legend to all who live and have lived, and the one man Agoir is set on slaying.
He steps out from behind the tree and notices that there are no people in front of him like he was expecting.
"Shocked, huh?", his patron asks sarcastically. "Enhanced senses, remember? But I guess that doesn't stop you from not hearing what I say.
The warlock responds with a single nod and continues onward, finally seeing a small campfire in the distance before long. Near it are six people, all wearing clothes similar to the bandit lady, and all share the same patch. An axe splitting a skull in half. The Skull Axes clan. One of them stands out from the rest, standing taller than the other five. Agoir himself is nearing six feet in height, yet the bandit is a good three heads taller than he is.
On his back is a long battleaxe and the other bandits carry weapons of their own. One carries a spear, two a bow and the rest a longsword. Their armor is no better than the bandit lady's, though the tall one has chainmail on his torso.
"Ready to go whenever ye' are.", one of the bowmen announces.
"All right.", the tall one, Glavny replies. "We cannot risk going back. The smoke is concerning. We'll take a longer route around to meet up with Devochet. I'll send her a [Message]."
Crunch.
The bandits flinch at the sound and face its source, some of them drawing their weapons.
Crunch.
Agoir takes another step forward, twigs breaking under his feet as he steps into the view of the bandits. Glavny takes his axe from his back and takes on a defensive stance.
"No more steps forward.", he declares with a stern tone.
The words do not stop the warlock who continues his walk, completely ignoring the archers ready to shoot him on command and the others preparing to attack him.
"One more time. No more steps forward."
"I don't like the look of this guy, man!", the spearman whispers. "Chief, look at his clothes! Those tears are exactly like Devochet's sword strikes, but he's here and she's not!"
"Quiet.", Glavny commands before focusing his attention on Agoir, his voice becoming grimmer. "You heard us talk, didn't you? Where is she?"
He simply points his arm behind him, his pace unhindered. Glavny's eyes furrow and his grip tightens, an audible crack being heard as he stares down the warlock who still marches on as if this is all part of a normal walk in the dark. The forest casts a shadow over the warlock's face, adding more terror to the other bandits whose nerves have already been worn down by the noises within the woods and its absolute darkness.
"Bastard!", the chieftain screams as he sprints at Agoir, swinging his axe towards his head.
Only then do his steps halt.
Bang.
Red is the ground and wet is the face of the bandits as the thunderous sound echoes throughout the forest. A clang interrupts the following silence, coming from Glavny's axe hitting the ground. The arm that wields it continues to do so, only without a body to raise it. From the tip of his fingers to the bone that is his shoulder, the arm is no more.
Yet he does not stop. Gritting his teeth and his eyes filled with rage, the chieftain does not stop his charge and swings his fist in place of his axe.
Bang.
The unbreakable chainmail that shields him breaks, the side of his abdomen disappearing in an instant. His mouth bleeds and his body winces at the pain, the adrenaline in his veins failing to fight back the overwhelming pain of losing an arm and a part of his body. His legs give in to the strain and he falls onto the ground face first, his blood and his life draining as fast as he was defeated.
The nervousness that once painted the outlaws' face is replaced by nothing but terror. Their eyes drift from their chief to the man who killed him and their feet take a step backwards, the fear of being like their leader the one thing keeping them from retreating.
"To be honest,", Avanthere begins, "that was just sad. When I first sensed this guy, I was so happy. He was the prime example of your average bandit back in the day! Tall! Strong! Respected! Feared! And on a good day, even liked! A good role model for pathetic bandits like you! But he fell so easily. I feel embarrassed for him."
"You sound sad.", Agoir reacts as he resumes his walk.
"Of course I am! You ever meet your hero only to find out everything about them was fake? I haven't because I have no heroes, but this was as close as I could get to that. Things have really fallen off since back my days."
The bandits all run in fear as their reaper approaches, who himself has no idea why. He shrugs it off and continues on as the fire arrives on the trees surrounding the bandits' camp, their tents catching fire with it and cutting off the paths that the owners of the said camp took to escape. Curses and panic are all the words spoken between them, followed by another silence as they realize that the only path to their freedom is through the trees not yet ablaze. The path Agoir is taking.
"N..."
Agoir's steps are halted once more as he slowly turns around at the sound of the voice.
"No..."
"Chief!", one of the bandits yells in relief as Glavny repeats the word 'no', his body twitching as he tries to stand up.
His body rejects the death given to it and his screams of agony are only made louder as burning leaves fall on him. But he rises back onto his feet. Feet that shake under the pressure of being a moment away from death, but feet that carry an impossible willpower that is the chieftain.
"[Silent Image].", upon uttering those words, a blue, translucent light spurts from his missing joint, growing until it takes on the shape of an arm. Its width and muscle do not fit the rest of his body, but it moves just the same when he shifts his stub. "[Solidify: Light]... [Ability Boost]."
Agoir tilts his head and carefully observes the bandit who continuously casts spells to heal and strengthen himself, giving inspiration and courage to his subordinates who take on another combat stance behind their master, their respect blossoming into something greater.
"Silver Spear...", he says. His voice is drained and tired, and the words sound forced. "I... Glavny, Second Hand of... the Skull Axes, will color—", he coughs, blood coming out with it. "—I! I will color the soil with your blood!", he declares, his voice filled with determination.
He picks up his axe with his illusory hand and draws a dagger with the other, finally prepared to fight Agoir with his true strength.
"I wonder what happened to 'bandits outside, not inside'.", Avanthere comments as its chosen prepares his shotgun again.
The trees behind Agoir are caught on fire, creating a wall of fire to burst to life behind him. The bandits, though intimidated, fight back their fears. This is the first foe they have not overcome.
But they are determined.
Determined to survive. Determined to avenge their fallen. Determined to defeat and surpass the world of difference between them and their enemy.
A determination that is short-lived as a herd of burning deer comes rushing through the tree line behind them, tackling some of the bandits to the ground and trampling them to death, setting others on fire in the process. The five remaining bandits are split apart and injured by the horde, and it's only made worse when goblins with eyes as white as snow come following them, some even riding the deer.
They come wielding swords and spears, attacking the bandits while the deer circle around the area, unable to find an exit through the flames. Being the perfect opportunity to claim more souls for the ones he lost, Agoir draws his shortsword laid horizontally on his back with his left hand and wields his shotgun on the other and starts to attack the goblins, shooting one and slashing at another. Meanwhile, only two of Glavny's men remain as all three of them are attacked by half a dozen greenskins at a time, getting stabbed repeatedly and slashed all over.
One goblin jumps on Glavny's back and stabs him over and over with a dagger and jumps away just before he could grab it. Another pierces its spear through his arm and into his side, getting its body split in two as a result. He swings his axe all around, desperately trying to hit a goblin, or even anything as their wicked laughs distort his mind. Breaking the spear lodged in him, he uses his now-free arm to grab a goblin by the head and crushes it into fine liquid before using its body as a club, hitting more and more and throwing it into another.
He slashes with his axe and crushes with his arm, screaming again at his hopeless situation and at the sight of his last allies being killed, one of them decapitated and the other getting his limbs pulled apart.
Agoir is on a rampage of his own, stabbing a goblin through the chest and raising it as a meat shield as he sidesteps and dashes forward to avoid being hit, all the while twirling his shotgun to simultaneously reload and fire the weapon. He drops the goblin, now missing a leg and full of holes onto the ground and crushes its head under his feet and jumps into the air to avoid an axe. Though inexperienced with combat, especially against a horde, his movement is careful and swift, yet frantic and strong. Goblin after goblin, deer after deer, they all fall to his gun whose lever smokes at the speed he uses it.
A goblin tries to jump him and is met with a slug to the chest, disintegrating it and causing its arms, legs and head to fly off in various directions. But he, too, is not safe due to the number of ravenous beasts attempting to kill him. His legs receive multiple slices and his head, without a helmet, is grazed by flying spears and claws. One gets a hold of his left arm and is promptly dealt with using righteous firepower, but his other arm, no longer pointing at his enemy, is free to be pierced.
He and Glavny fight off the greenskins as the trees around them melt and leaves fall, moonlight shining on them. The Blind Forest weeps louder and the moon grows brighter as the once dense leaves no longer coat the land in darkness. A roar sweeps the trees and Glavny, already exhausted, frowns at the sound and the rumbling of the ground. The melting trees fall as a large beast emerges from the burning trees, its brown fur burning and weapons stuck on its body.
The bear roars upon laying its eyes on the goblins around Glavny, running at them full force. The chieftain hurriedly kicks away his tiny foes, giving it his all to get out of the way of the rampaging monster. But they are many and his time is not.
He slams his fists against the bear's forehead who rams him full force, knocking him off his feet and sending his axe flying into the air. The beast recoils from the force of Glavny's attack, growling in pain but shrugging it off. It roars, biting and clawing at the goblins trying to bring it down as the melting trees have completely turned liquid.
Glavny pushes on his knee and stands, giving a good punch to a few goblins as he prepares for the bear to charge again. It does, barging through a horde of gremlins like a cannonball smashing through a wall. It stands on its two back legs and swings its claws at the chieftain who grabs its paws and holds it in a stalemate, only letting go of one to give it an uppercut to the jaw.
The bear leans in and bites into his shoulder, breaking the chainmail and overpowering his mortal arm to let it swipe, removing large chunks of flesh in the process. It receives a translucent fist into its eye in exchange, causing it to open its jaw where its prey punches off some of its fangs and pushes it away.
"[Cure Wounds].", he pants, a soft green glow covering his arm that slowly recovers what it had lost.
He runs and tackles the beast, hitting its head as fast as his fatigued body can allow. He is met with more swipes to his chest and limbs, losing more and more blood until his mental fortitude is the one thing that keeps his next breath from being the last.
The goblins run out of the way, choosing to finally retreat and allow the two monsters to fight uninterrupted. Uninterrupted as the bandit's right eye leaves its socket and the beast's fangs its mouth. Back and forth they attack, and back and forth they lose a part of their lives. Glavny, whose fists are bloodied and fingers no longer straight, kicks the bear between its legs and grabs its neck with one hand and its leg with the other, and with trembling arms, lifts it above his head as it roars and tries to slay its now-captor as best as it can, but to no avail.
His knees fail to remain upright from the weight, one of them bending the wrong way as he takes his magical arm and turns its nails into claws and slices through the beast's neck who chokes on its blood. He thrusts it into its stomach and pulls on the flesh from the inside, doing the same with his other hand. Still in the air, the beast is gutted as it lets out one last defiant roar before its death at the hands of the bandit chieftain, now bathing in a sea of blood and guts from the beast's insides, screaming as he drops the body and collapses, all the energy in his body now gone and the weight of what had happened rapidly pouring into his head.
It's quiet again.
Agoir stares at the scene, chewing on an apple Avanthere manifested for him.
"What a show!", it says in glee. "Still, a bandit back in the days would've murdered three bears with nothing but a twig. He wasn't even close to killing one with a twig."
"I can't either."
"Not a surprise to anybody. I will change that soon, of course! But go get going now. It's easier to sense things because of the fire, but I still hate the feel of the dark."
"Afraid of the dark?", he jests, his tone unchanging.
"Of course not! Actually, maybe. There used to be this bastard 'God of Shadows' and it made me want to puke out of disgust. I fear ever coming into contact with that cretin again."
The warlock tosses the apple core away and makes his way out of the scene, his soles drenched in the bloody sea. He stares at Glavny one last time who lies unconscious on the ground, but not without life. To his patron, the chieftain is the closest thing to a real bandit. Having grown up surrounded by some of the most infamous bandits in history, to Agoir, he was less than a speck of dust compared to his comrades. He eagerly wants to head back to his camp to impress his patron, even if it's to brag about it.
"I wonder what his reaction to my brother will be.", he thinks to himself, slightly shaking his head as he begins to traverse the rest of the Blind Forest, which is its entirety with how little he has gone.
But now, at last, he can begin his journey home.