Himura Satō
The ruins are as empty as a desert, a shame but unsurprising. "There has to be something here…" I say to myself, my voice trailing off while scavenging an empty house. I've been looking for quite a while now, but it seems this ruin was just a mere change of scenery.
I turn my attention to the peculiar pair of hills beyond the ruins. The hills themselves aren't anything special, apart from horn-like protrusions, and so what really caught my attention was the ravine in the middle. Approaching it, I find an abandoned mine, and far below that is a gigantic skull, its jaw acting as some sort of entrance.
"Yeah, no, I am not entering that." Just like that, I went beyond the hills, and just past a wall of trees, there was a gigantic battlefield. Hundreds of skeletons lay all around the battlefield. All of them had their weapons in hand as if their spirits were still fighting on.
I took a short moment to recite a small prayer to whoever would listen, "Let these souls rest and may they find solace in their next life." I open my eyes. "Next life, huh?" I wonder why someone like me would pray for them. Was it to save myself from guilt or to truly pray for their souls? A thought occurs to me that it might be both, yet my heart points to the former.
I gathered most of the rusty weapons from them, but even when the sun soon fell, there were still many weapons around. For now, I went back to the ruins and found a secluded corner where the wind didn't blow much. I try to make a fire like I did before, but to no avail. Last time was a fluke, and now, all I managed to do is hurt my arms.
I sigh. "Guess I wasn't the wizard of fire after all…" Thankfully, this house's four walls are still standing, so I huddle in the corner and hug my bag. I close my eyes but try to stay alert to any goblins. I subconsciously recall what happened last night. It was way too close; I could have died then and there.
As I think to myself, I slowly lie down as I couldn't sleep well in my current position. But before I could sleep, I heard a noise. Scraping and falling metals all around me. I sneak towards the entrance of this house and pull out my spearhead.
The scraping gets closer to my location until something metallic starts to scrape the outside of this house. One ragged step after another, and then, I dash out and immediately cut off the head of something humanoid, rotting, and quite clearly undead. Ghoul, zombie, whatever they're called, dies in an instant.
"Huh, could've sworn that destroying the brain was the only way to kill these guys." I thought as I stepped on his brain. Monsters in the amount reaching double digits run after me at a jogger's pace. I ran around the ruins, baiting a few of them away from the group to the point that I could kill them fast enough to gain back some distance.
But as I do so, I find a man, slightly older than me. There is a lute on his back, and he was armed with only a crossbow. He shoots one in the head and runs away while reloading. We look at each other, but before another thought could even register in our minds, the ground shakes violently, causing us and even the monsters to fall.
"GRAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH!" Someone shouts with an ear-piercing volume. Looking at the twin hills, the protrusions that I thought were horns were so horrifically wrong. They were fingers. In a single instance, those hills were demolished as the stone-colored fingers opened up the ravine, as the face that I thought was just an entrance to some area was, in fact, a skull of this clearly alive monster.
Beside me, another violent shake occurs as the hard rock-colored legs rise and the buried monster stands before us all. The height of the monster was akin to a large mountain. The monster before me was clearly undead and unholy, with flesh as hard as the mountains, yet bones were exposed, signifying its age. I wanted to run in fear, but I find myself gripping my broken spear harder, as if this weapon even had a chance to scratch its legs.
But before it could even make a move, something flew through the air, a greatsword in hand, glowing green. And in another moment, its jaw was cut. The jaw fell to the ground, but I couldn't see where it fell. The wind falls silent, I see the humanoid creature raise its arms and the glowing greatsword, with a single slash, leaves a green afterimage and splits the creature in half.
A force so great was just cut down so easily, and yet here I am, thinking I still have a chance. The creature lands on the ground with a shake and looks at us. No, he looked beyond me. The creature, clearly some sort of undead, raises its greatsword and commands its army. "…Slaughter the half-breed, maim them all, and let fires of purity purge Bellken." I didn't understand what his gibberish meant, but the man with the lute fell to the ground, clearly about to wet himself, but he didn't break.
The undead begin running wildly towards the direction of the city, and many charge at the man to finish him off, but as one of them raises their flanged mace, I parry it to my right and push my right hand forward, cutting about half of its throat. "Go," I say in my own tongue, clearly, he didn't understand it, but he ran away either way.
Monsters, animals, didn't matter; anything moving was killed by the ravaging army. These monsters seem to ignore me, but then again, the man did not look at me as he spoke his command, so perhaps that's why. The man with the lute flies with some sort of magic. I felt a sudden gust of wind as he spoke his spell. "Wind magic, perhaps? Is that even a thing?" I ask myself before turning towards the man.
A commander of some army, ragged leather armor trimmed with gold. The trimmed gold had some sort of magical circle. Most of them were scratched at some point, so I doubt they work, but I can also clearly see some intact ones as well. Rags covered his armor, and in one hand was a greatsword, a green flame-like gas surrounded it.
Right now, I have two choices. Fight him, and probably die, or run back to the city. Actually, I have one if I want to succeed here. "You know what, street cred will definitely help me in the long run." Nothing helps more in a social place than popularity.
I put the broken spear back in my bag, drop my bag on the ground, and draw my long blade. For the first time, he looks at me directly. "Pure breed, you wish to protect these filthy half-breeds with your blade? Commendable."
I remain silent for obvious reasons and assume a stance. I place my blade forward, at the same level as my hips, and take a single step with my right foot. I drop slightly, firmly planting my feet on the ground. My ears were flooded with these creatures running past me. I tried to focus, but even then, the noises didn't magically become silent.
"So be it." He says, as he stabs his greatsword on the ground, and a sleeker blade suddenly materializes in front of him. "I hope you don't mind; you seem far too weak for my larger blade." I have no clue what he said, but the condescending tone was easy to identify. He does not assume a stance, merely standing there, the blade outstretched to his side.
The moon begins to glow brightly once again, and as the light envelopes us. Thich! The ground shook as he dashed towards me. He pulls his blade back. I grasp harder and then…whoosh! As the stab makes contact with my blade, I pull my blade back to the left side of my hip, and then, I counterattack with a diagonal slash using only my right hand. He pushes his blade slightly towards me as he pulls it back, sounds of scraping metal reverberate as my gauntlets shield me from the pulling cut, and he blocks the attack as a result.
I step forward, stepping on his foot, and pull my blade back, trying to slash his neck. He moves back slightly, dodging the cut, and then he steps back using the foot that I stepped on. My step was so laughably weak that he probably didn't even notice that I stepped on it to try and prevent him from gaining space.
He raises his blade, and I push forward, grasping my blade with both hands. I slashed in a downward diagonal angle, blocked. Then I do the same attack at the opposite side, and he parries. He attempts to counter with a vertical slash, but I side-step to dodge it, then I counter his counterattack, but he simply dodges again.
He attacks my right with one hand, but I walk back and watch as the blade goes to my side. "Odd." A single thought occurs. Ting! I parry his other hand, grasping a curved dagger which came from the same side, using my left gauntlet. I slash horizontally and hop back to gain some space. We circle each other, and I begin to think.
"I don't see any way to win this apart from pure skill. And unlike me, he's strong enough to be able to pull the tricks that I plan to use on him to gain a bit of advantage. Apart from that–" I look at my left gauntlet to see that one of the plates was slashed through, but thanks to the layered design of each plating, another plate absorbed the slash.
I stop and he stops as well as I pull out my switchblade and cut the leather from my shin guards. "Finally, I have a reason to take this off, I was starting to feel uncomfortable with it on." Uncomfortable in the sense that my guts are aching because of how dumb I look. I could get away from rolling up my sleeves and wearing my gauntlets, but wearing shin guards on top of my slacks was already beyond acceptable aesthetically. "I could have probably gotten away with it if I wore it under the slacks, but I was already slow with these gauntlets on, so that was also another reason why I wanted to take these off. Gah, what am I doing wasting my thoughts like this, he'll start attacking again, y'know." I stand back up. My heart begins to calm a little.
I look at the commander again. "I thought he would fight like a soldier, emphasizing strength over technique to cleave through thousands of people, but right now, he's acting more like a duelist, keeping me at a distance. It was the correct response, but my failed strategy hinges on him fighting like a soldier so I can use my dirty tricks to win."
This battle was between two swordsmen, a clash of techniques and wit. "I think I can win even if his strength makes his techniques stronger." Well, it was either that or I die. "Shall we?" He speaks with a questioning tone. I didn't respond, and we dashed towards each other.
Astoria
I dip my bread into the soup and savor the soup-flavored bread. After doing so, I bite a chunk of warg meat. "Boss, you ought to use the regular meats," I complain, still chewing on the meat. "Then get out of my tavern and kill those wargs because they're not gonna stop." He retorts.
"You gonna pay for my services?" I ask. "Hell no," I respond with continued chewing. "Ugh, you long-living folks really making us short-living folks deal with your problem." He complains. "Well, too bad," I say as I drink the broth. "No beer tonight?" He asks. "Nope, I got a feeling tonight."
As I say that, our attention turns to the gossip of the mercenaries around the tavern. Unsurprisingly, the talk about the "mysterious noble" was old news, and now, the new bard is the tavern's newest topic. Even I'm surprised by that bard. I thought he was just some newbie who sings poetically, but he has a lot of style. Also, I'm pretty sure his lute makes sounds that a lute shouldn't be able to.
"You say that all the time, but what do you mean by you having a feeling?" Aldia asks as she puts dirty dishes in the sink. I smile and speak, "See that priestess over there? Why would there be a priest in this shit hole of a tavern? A spot where mercenaries commonly go. There's a chance that the church has business outside the walls and that priestess over there requires our services." I smile proudly after explaining my deduction.
"First of all, fuck you, second of all, you do know that specific priestess is not exactly a priestess, she's both a priestess and a paladin. Also, I know for a fact that she's stronger than every single one of you combined, meaning it's not as simple as a standard mercenary job." The barkeep retorts. "And why do you say that?" I ask. "Because there are soldiers outside, dumbass." He insults; in response, I look at a window a few distance from me. "Oh shit, really?"
"Some elf you are." I raise a middle finger to him as the tavern falls silent, as there is commotion outside. "Get out of my way!" Someone shouts, and at the next moment, the doors burst open and out comes the talk of the tavern. The bard of many sounds, as we call him. He walks towards the stage, wiping off the blood from his face.
He raises his pick to the sky, and the wind picks up. His hair flows violently, his eyes are filled with ambition, and his lute is begging to be played. His pick meets his lute, and a wave of sounds shoots out from his lute. It was hard for me to describe the sounds I'm hearing, but something was interesting about his lyrics.
The man who promised to purge all half-breeds, Kioi, is inevitable. His army rushes towards Bellken, but the man himself? Busy with a certain figure of noble-like aesthetics. That was the gist of it. There was a slight smile on me. "I got it all figured out." Kioi has a sweet sword known as the "Everchange". A sword which came from another realm, which is why the only church in this city, the church of the God Hu, the god of all things foreign, is getting involved. And since soldiers have sworn to protect this city, they are also concern about Kioi attacking Bellken since a lot of people in Bellken are technically half-breeds.
And lastly, since the us mercenaries deal in killing anything beyond the wall, we are the main force that will go and actually try to kill Kioi, hence the reason they are here. As for the bard, well, he was probably hired by either the church or the government, who cares. "You heard what he said, and so I don't need to explain why we're here, right?" The man in black iron spoke. One of the mercenaries approaches the door with his party, passing him. "Yeah, yeah, what is this, like the fourteenth attempt of trying to kill Kioi before the sun goes up? We already know what we need to do." The whole tavern agrees with him.
"Alright then, slightly change on the plan, we aren't letting that fucker go, so I'm coming along too which means you follow my command or I end your existence." He says, grasping his extremely broad black sword, smiling slightly. All of us scoff and laugh at his joke. There was no way we were actually gonna follow his commands, probably loosely at best, but fully? Never.
I check myself out before following the mercenaries. I didn't have a reason to use a greatbow, so I dried my greatbow over a fire a few hours ago, so I got it back to a regular longbow. My quivers were filled with arrows. Knives were resharpened and hidden around my armor. After a few seconds, I confirmed that everything was ready. And so, I walk out of the tavern. "Good luck!" Aldia shouts as she runs up the stage to take care of the bleeding bard.
At the same time, the lady from the church heads out as well. I look back to see her, wearing the standard clothes for a woman of the church of Hu, but it was uncanny to see a clearly used steel staff embedded with a dim blue gem and sharpened tip at the bottom. The staff clearly had scratches everywhere, and the sharpened bottom still has some dried blood on it.
"Interesting." I slowed my steps, and I let her catch up to me. An elven woman like me with long brown hair, unlike my short black hair. "Name's Astoria. If you don't have anyone with you, why don't we team up?" I extend my hand. She seems surprised at first, but she gathers herself and speaks, "Freya Bellken." She smiles slightly and shakes my hand.