The sun had set above the mountain circle of Giraldia, the capital of Enritta, a small, yet powerful kingdom on the eastern side of the Enoa continent, was ready to meet another day. Settled right near a large waterfall, the city enjoyed a net of canals with crystalline pure water. Most of the houses’ roofs were decorated with bluish shingles, and the large castle extended both on the surface and the fifty-meter plateau of the river Natta. A beautiful place... was to be afflicted by yet another bad omen.
Recently, the region was nothing but peaceful: monstrous wolves raiding local farms; roads breaking for no apparent reason; whole passages getting blocked by rock collapses; children and adults alike spitting deadly black pox. The city was not defenseless; however, it took a lot of strain to sustain order. With soldiers on constant duty and healers quarantining the sick, at least the semblance of stability could be preserved.
In the meantime, a cloaked figure walked the streets of Giraldia. A man in dirty brown robes never spoke a word, never stayed in one place. Instead, he carried a gilded censer, as if it were a lantern. Everywhere the vagrant went, the plague rapidly subdued. But, despite his best efforts, people were too scared of getting close to the wanderer. He'd only been there for a day, and people were already gossiping. One said that he was a saint who came to rescue Giraldia from its ordeals. The other claimed to have seen a devil, who sowed the seeds of rot, accompanied by a crow with golden eyes. But only one person knew the truth. And they waited in a small alley.
"Years goes by, epochs change one another, time itself crumbles, but something never changes. You have always been everywhere and nowhere at once, Lorenzo." Another voice without a mouth spoke. It belonged to a woman, yet nothing hinted at her gender in the outlook. A fencer with a thin, undulated rapier, carried in nothing but a leather strap. The crimson weapon took its tone not from adamantine alloy, but from the dried blood. Its carrier wore high black boots and greenish trousers with a white shirt under a leather jacket tucked in them. With a full metal mask, symbolizing an old screaming man, and a pair of long velvet gloves, not even a bit of skin was visible.
"Catherine…" The tenth hero whispered. "Who have you murdered to reach me this time?" The hexer’s voice was mundane and restricted, and that alone said much about the undead.
"Please! You never cared much for collateral victims in the first place! Even when you hadn’t traded your pretty face for that atrocious mummy." Bloodbringer mocked the sorcerer; she hadn’t even needed her blade to stab his heart. Even if it had already been dead for centuries. "Releasing the children of Enuas, enslaved in your name, fighting the system that feeds your miserable undead, killing gods, not willing to join your suicidal quest, and now treating victims of your own reluctance. That… Reeharoze is a lost cause."
"No. And neither are you." Lorenzo stated, not even attempting to draw a weapon from his endless pocket.
"Heh… He-he-heh… Oh, you old idiot…" While one lacked any body language, another burst into laughter. Although her throat was long gone, the reflex remained intact. "You, me, Tarson, Reeharoze! Don’t you remember how it ended the last time? We’ve killed each other! You, Lorenzo, just can’t stop! I can’t let you destroy the laws of Deimos-!.."
"Why can you not see how much pain they are causing?" The dark magician argued, clumsily extending his arms. "Look at the will of Ahriman! Look, how he answers the minor offense!"
"This happens only because you couldn’t put Reeharoze to rest! It’s her fault! Snap out of it, at last! In a world filled with monsters and dark horrors, we can’t live without something that makes us strong!" Bloodbringer snarled, as barely noticeable drops of blood poured from under her helmet.
"We, as humans? For you have stopped being one long ago!" Now Lorenzo threateningly raised his thin, cold arm. "Instead of eradicating monsters who killed our sons, you have become one!"
"You can’t erase them! These animals are just a part of Enoa, as demi-humans! You just lack the bravery to admit it! And resolve to become what you were always meant to be!" Catherine cried, suppressing her immense powers. How many times have we had this conversation? Tens? Hundreds? Thousands of times?
"I will not sacrifice Tarson!" The hexer swore, watching the divine bird in the sky. The latter, in his wisdom, never stood between these two.
"But you shan’t spare whoever stands in your way…" Bloodbringer fretted, trying to remember their centuries of constant war. Three hundred years felt like one long cycle of hatred and violence, with only their lives — real lives — mattering.
"Animals mutate into monsters by wild magic, a byproduct of the Laws of Deimos." The undead hero deadpanned.
"And all of spellcasting, including the spiritual powers, which are native to this world. Will you destroy it all? And if yes, what will remain afterwards?"
"Peace."
"No, Lorenzo. Death." Catherine shook her masked head with disappointment. "I thought ourdeaths would finally stop this circle of madness, but we were denied even this. Lorenzo, in memory of our old marriage, I shan’t battle you here. We all make mistakes, but if you go on, you won’t leave me another choice."
"I will not rest until the last god falls before me. Including that serpent you foolishly revere!"
"Suit yourself, my love. But damn me if I let you turn the world into your spitting image." On these words, the Champion turned back, drew her rapier, and violently slashed her own forearm. An unnatural amount of blood spilled on the ground before forming a crimson rift in the space itself.
"Wait, Catherine…" Rashly, almost desperately, the sorcerer halted his nemesis. "Do not touch Keyaru. He is still weak, but he will become our savior!"
"No. He’s just a mutilated rapist, left to complete your unfinished business." Bloodbringer dismissively argued, before stepping into the portal. "Farewell, Lorenzo… Until we meet again."
…
A winged woman waded into the white palace. Her eyes looked at the carpeted floor, and her head nervously trembled. Only her shivering left arm protected the violet-skinned woman from Enritta’s guardians. Men and women, fighters and mages — their pikes mauled her flesh, their spells broke her limbs, but none of them could put an end to the abomination’s misery, for she recovered even from the most grievous wounds in a matter of seconds. Neither could anyone remain conscious for longer than half a minute in the black mist before succumbing to a sleep spell. Dozens, even hundreds, failed to stop her solitary procession toward the king’s chambers. Nothing short of a true hero could.
By that time, Traman von Mirtia had been unable to stay away from his bed for long. Wheezing and coughing, the aged monarch, even during the hottest days of the summer, remained covered in thick bed sheets. He wasn’t ruling anymore; that privilege and burden remained with his son Castor. Yet, the spirit never crumbled in this fighter.
"Ghh, damn that old body… What… is that fucking ruckus?" Despite everything, the elder managed to stand on his own. When he did, when the crowned ruffian headed toward the door, it was opened by the bodies of his elite bodyguards. An emissary of darkness announced her arrival.
"I’m… I’m so sorry… I need you dead. Only… you…" Reeharoze spoke with the voice of a frightened woman, not the immortal demigoddess she had been raised as. The winged horror expected her target to be just as terrified as she was, but found no coward there.
"A-ah, finally, damn it!" The king in white pajama robe took his blackened mace from the wall and assumed a battle stance. His knees creaked, his arms quaked, but still, age couldn’t strip him of technique. "Before you murder me, tell me, was it Margurth who sent you?"
"…" Only a short nod was her answer. The messenger of the void was not someone who made an impression of a powerful entity, yet there she stood, with a trace of bodies as a track.
"Fuck, I knew he was deranged, but to send a demon crygirl after me is something else."
"I… am sorry…" Reeharoze spoke, raising her shivering hand to form a sphere of darkness. But pretending to fight her nearly unkillable friend was different from actually murdering an innocent man in cold blood.
"Wait, did you even have a choice in that matter?" Traman wondered, slightly lowering his guard.
"…" She slowly shook her head. A sphere of deadly darkness threatened to rip him apart, but the man would rather… pity his murderer.
"Hey, girl! Was it you who caused all that nuisance to Giraldia?" The monarch wondered, looking at her wings. This series of catastrophes started with some of his subjects seeing a winged creature, whose description coincided with that of Reeharoze.
"Y-yes." As was to be shown.
"Would you leave after my death?" Traman asked, receiving another nod. "Do you need my son?" And the second question…
"No. Not now…" The demi-goddess once again glanced at the man. "I don’t want to do it. You… You’re sick, only a few days before you die on your own."
"You… killed my entire guard, cast a plague on my lands by the order of your king, and now you want to spare me? Girl, what’s up with your head?" The bewildered dying monarch just couldn’t stomach the situation.
"Not killed. They’ll wake… soon. And my friend is helping with hea-" Reeharoze wasn’t allowed to finish. Let alone dispel her black sphere. A fair-haired man, carrying a brown suit and a blessed sword, decapitated the perpetrator.
"Father, are you not h-?.." And just as the winged woman was interrupted by his blade, Prince Castor was stupefied upon seeing a large bleeding hole in Traman’s chest. With nobody to cancel the abyssal spell, it reached its goal in the end. "Oh no… No, no, no, no!.."
"Why? WHY?!" A melancholic voice now was powered by sadness and anger, as a cut head turned into black dust to reunite the fallen body. "WHY DID YOU DO THIS?!!"
Before Castor knew it, he faced the screaming woman. Black tears ran down her violet cheeks…
…
"Is it morning already?"
Keyaruga woke up in his rented room. On the left, he spotted Setsuna, his willing slave and a fellow fighter. On the right slept Freia, the princess without a kingdom, now doomed to serve her most hated man. Or blessed with the chance of a new life. It all depended on the perspective. She was happy with her change, while the local slavers… not so much.
The healer wouldn’t deny himself a chance to pet their hair. The she-wolf had hers smooth and straight, whereas the sorceress’s pink curls were always fizzy. Even more after their nights together.
Previously, the red-eyed lad destroyed Leonard, the man responsible for the devastation of Alban, and the deaths of Anna and Kurt. He had to pay, to feel what it’s like to be a victim, so that he could be reborn as a better person... Somewhere in the future. Then… there was a question with Norn. While realizing that the warlady was behind that assault, yet the hero just couldn’t bring himself to hate her. Keyaruga knew exactly what she was, and why she did what she did. He… promised to stop her, and yet he failed. He chose not to notice.
"M-m… Good morning, my Lord."
"Yeah, morning, Freia." After the greeting, the man grabbed his companion and tossed her onto his torso in the way, which let him bury his face into the girl’s massive breasts.
"M-my lord?.. Do you want… to make some love?" The Hero of Magic asked flirtatiously.
"I just need to think. Don’t move." Keyaruga growled, breathing in the feminine aroma, rubbing his cheeks on those soft and smooth tits. The feeling itself was pleasant enough for him to just close his eyes and contemplate.
Norn could not be allowed to continue. Margurth Rikil Jioral didn’t deserve to have his talented daughter at the head of the kingdom’s army. The red-haired lad would rather have her there, with him, than conspiring against their noble cause. "You know, I’d like to have a brother like you." The man remembered their last conversation before the fatal future was erased. He could transform Norn into something resembling her sister, but even without the mind of genius, the magician knew who she was. And with Keyaruga’s plans to usurp Jioral and put the youngest Jioral on the throne, brainwashing seemed like a lost cause from the very start.
"Nh… Nm!.. Ale-fa-nis, master." It was Setsuna. Barely did she wake up, the huntress found her prey between the hero’s legs. Now, she was masterfully licking her "future".
"I see your claws were not the only thing to improve." Keyaruga praised her ally, putting Freia nearby. Just enough to feel the princess's lips, her warmth.
"Uh-huh. Setsuna… has been learning. To please you." The girl briefly spoke before returning to her morning routine. Her agile tongue got better and better, along with Phasian, and making Keyaruga happy. It’d been less than a week, and the ice warrior could already make her man squirm. Or, at least, pleasantly shiver, while Freia embraced and kissed him like there would be no tomorrow. Setsuna’s wet mouth, her struggling, her innate charm, in tandem with Freia’s beauty and kindness, made the man surrender in no time.
"Uh…” It even took a bit of strain for the hero not to moan. Not too much, but still.
"Gulp. Setsuna will be strong." The gray-haired girl happily smiled, like a child when being presented with a new toy. Her grammar arsenal now included past and future tenses. The man broke into a series of kisses. His crimson pupils looked at the sorceress’ blue.
"So, how was yesterday?" The red-eyed lad wondered, groping Freia’s breast.
"Excellent, magnificent, I would say." The magician replied, as her smooth arm rubbed Keyaruga’s manhood. "We released around... well, many-many of these poor things. Although, we had to do without Lorenzo’s help in evacuating them. These underground tunnels were so stinky, I could throw up even now, feh."
"Please, don’t. That’d ruin all the mood." The healer sneered, moving his arm closer to the girl’s bottom.
"And Setsuna got stronger." The huntress cheerfully boasted, joining her friend’s efforts in raising her master’s rod. While Freia tried to make the world a better place, the ice warrior sought strength.
"By the way, where’s Kureha?" Keyaruga wondered before quickly noticing the heroine’s reserved smile and the fighter’s scowl. Freia seems to have come to terms with her presence, but Setsuna? I think she’s still jealous. Maybe, of her battle skills?
"Re… reccone… sen?" The huntress tried to spell the word, and she failed miserably.
"Reconnaissance? I see." In the night, the man barely even noticed her absence. At that time, he wanted sex and a nightmareless sleep, and now… Now he heard a few quiet knocks at his door. The lascivious tone faded, as the man stood up and headed to the source of the nuisance without even caring to dress up. After all, his eye glowed jade. And when he faced it… "Hello, Kureha. Come in."
"O-oh… I…" The swordswoman blushed, covering her embarrassed face. This was exactly what Flare warned her of. "I’ll have my leave. That was not the right time." With that said, the fencer turned around, swiping Keyaruga’s extended hand aside. The latter didn’t feel too proactive at the moment, which couldn’t be farther from the truth for Freia. The princess dashed forward and literally dragged both her man and his new woman inside. The door slammed shut.
"Listen here! My lord made a move on you, and now you will just undermine him? Decide, either you are with us, or no!" The caster snarled, pointing her fingers in the fencer’s chest. Now, the magician mysteriously sympathized with the Swordmaster. Too much of herself did she see in those blue eyes.
"Stop it, Freia. I won’t force you, we just need you as an ally." The lad clarified, standing between the rivals. But even his interruption meant little at that point.
"Could I… join you? Keyaru…ga, Freia, Setsuna?" Kureha asked with her eyes lowered. No longer intoxicated with aphrodisiac, Silver Death asked to be accepted rather than barge into the man’s private life, even if it was his ploy all along.
"U… Uh-huh… But master pleases all three." First one to answer was the she-wolf, with an ultimate condition.
"I will follow whatever choice you make, Keyaruga." Then, the princess voiced her resolution. "As long as you’re happy."
"Well, welcome aboard, my dear. If you’re willing to truly join us, then this is how we start our day." With a kiss, and then…
…
And then, after a couple of hours of passionate orgy, including doing it in the bathtub, all the team finally proceeded to their breakfast.
"So, what’s the news?" Keyaruga asked Silver Death, while munching two sausages at once. The girls were quite persistent in their passion, and now the lad felt even more exhausted than after fighting the Swordmaster in a mortal duel.
"Yes, we would like to listen." Freia cheerfully added her aspiration. After all, fighting dozens of slavers side by side and sharing the same man at the same time did make the ice between the two thinner. Even with the sorceress still clinging to her enslaver and liberator a bit too much.
"This is important one." The girl spoke, and her smile of sexual satisfaction quickly disappeared. She spent the whole night on this, and that had its malicious effect on the fencer’s facial skin. And she still hasn't touched her food. "First, captain Leonard and his four men went missing. The soldiers are still searching for them."
"They won’t succeed. I lured them into my trap and murdered them all." The hero shrugged without even a slight concern.
"Because of what they’ve done to your people?" Kureha inquired, while the other girls quietly ate their meals.
"Leonard raped my foster mother, his men slaughtered my father, and after tossing his cut head near her, she chose to bite her tongue off." Keyaruga spoke, nervously grinning. Nobody mistook that for a sort of happy smile. "Then, he let his assholes fuck her corpse. So yes, half the reason was my vengeance."
"This… I can’t describe it even. Please, forgive me for not helping them, Keyaruga."
"When they came, you… You were on your way here." The healer replied dismissively. "I wish none of you saw how I treated him. I made this fucker suffer, kept him alive, only for him to feel the same pain. Yet, that didn’t help my parents. I can only travel back in time to save them…"
"I… see…" Kureha offered her condolences with a slow nod, while Freia marked Keyaruga’s words. He spoke them not as an abstract dream, but a full-fledged option. She knew just how tormented her beloved was, but this could add another deep layer to his traumas. Setsuna too sympathized, but with no outside indication. She would help her master, the she-wolf would let him kill his foes, inside and outside alike.
"I had another reason. Apparently, Leonard had been looking for Flare. Wanted to finish the job. I couldn’t let him go. And maybe, his demise would stop my fellow villagers’ execution." The man deadpanned. Truth be told, the lad didn’t even care much at that point. With Anna’s death, this brand new life started to look like a rough draft. And he still remained cautious about a Champion’s possible interference.
"I understand. But the latter proved in vain." Kureha said, making the tough atmosphere even worse.
"What do you know?" Keyaruga asked, tossing a quick glance at Freia. The sorceress processed the information, and the hero would soon acknowledge her right to the truth. Just not yet.
"Their execution is scheduled for this Sunday, in the local colosseum. Since that three days term has almost passed, and you didn’t show up, they postponed the date."
"Sunday… It's Tuesday now. So, we have five days to get ready." The healer spoke, noticing a strange reaction on Setsuna’s face. Mixed feelings of sadness, anger, and disappointment. "What happened?"
"…" The huntress merely pointed her finger at Kureha. And the latter made a long exhale.
"Forgive me, but I forbade them from approaching that place."
"They hold slaves in there, making them fight against monsters just for the amusement of a crowd! Surely, you must like it there!" Freia quarreled, slamming her hands on the table.
"Listen, princess!" And this time, the swordswoman wouldn’t restrain herself. "Dealing with slaver scum is one thing, they die by the dozens every day! Tackling Jioral is another! Do you know what your enemies’ positions are? Patrol routes? Threat level? A whole damn killing barrier? If not, then do not make Keyaruga mourn your death as well!"
Freia opened her mouth, but not a single word left her lips. Kureha had a pretty valid point. After all, a mighty magic barrier protected the amphitheater of murders. Tribunes were shielded from monsters by a translucent dome, which could bring brutal death to everything inside. It’s a trap, but I have to step in it.
"Great intel. With that, I can take measures." The healer said, although without any enthusiasm.
"Oh gods, not you too. Saving people is a heroic deed, but what is the point if you die prior?"
"I won’t. I will succeed and show the world just how mad this rotten kingdom is." Even though the sorrow still remained, Keyaruga now glittered with resolve.
"No, you!.. Are you mad? You will die! Are you not afraid?" Silver Death warned, trying to stop the lad from this suicidal attempt...
"I am! I am afraid to die without achieving anything!" The memories of the bottomless black void were still fresh... "If you’re fine with that, then go on! Denounce me! But I warn you, next time I will not be so merciful!"
"This is not what I meant!" The fencer answered, barely restraining herself from yelling curses in the hero’s face. "I can not let you take this risk!" Oh… Setsuna, you were right!
"Listen here, you!.." The Hero of Magic was ready to burst, to scream at Silver Death.
"Oh no, you listen!.."
"SILENCE!!!" The man screamed, stopping both girls at once. "I know, you’re worried, but we have our ways around this! So you’re either with us, or against!"
"I will continue to fight for you till the bitter end!" Kureha swore, putting her arm at her chest. “But first, you have to tell me your plan!”
"No, that won’t be necessary." The man dismissed Swordmaster’s help before approaching her up close.
"This is why I raise my sword now!"
"Do not mistake my words for what they aren’t! I literally don’t need you here!" The lad decreed, as his eyes watched Freia and Setsuna. Neither of them tried anything weird, nor did they visibly rejoice in Kureha’s potential banishment. "I need you to stay at Jioral’s court. There, you’ll have two tasks: first, provide me with information about the king’s affairs. Second…" At that point, the Hero of Healing lowered himself just enough to whisper. "…I need you to protect Norn. I know she’s back in Capital.” And now, in full voice… “After we’re done here, she’ll have to head to Buranikka. I’ll be waiting for her there."
"Is this abandonment? Or trust?" The swordswoman pondered, barely hiding her grudge.
"I can’t ask anyone else. Also, I don’t think I can make you happy, so you better find another man." Keyaruga advised, sitting near the Silver Death. The latter wasted no time in hugging the hero.
"Is she… important to you?" The silver-haired girl quietly inquired. Like most soldiers, her opinion of the cruel warlady was not the best.
"Yes. I… need her."
"Then… This is our farewell." Kureha stood up to grab her remaining short sword and armor. "If you want to see me again, just ask. I will come to your side.” The swordswoman promised, as her hands rapidly fastened the leather belts of her equipment. “Keyaruga… you never told me, how you acquired our family mastership.”
“I will, after we meet again.” The man assured, watching his new companion leave.
“You’re making my wait all the more unbearable.” Kureha smiled, turning her back to the Hero of Healing. “Goodbye, my love.” And then, she left. Without her, it got quiet, to the point of discomfort. Setsuna reflected on Keyaruga’s sufferings, Freia pondered over her sister and her potential connection to the healer in another time, and the man himself tried to not get absorbed by regrets. Whatever trap awaited him, with discipline, resolve and cautious planning, he would prevail in the end.
"She will not do as master says." Setsuna shook her beautiful head, breaking the silence.
"Yes, you’re pretty much stuck with her, my lord." And Freia’s remark was no different.
"This is fine. After all, we can still use her." Especially in my vengeance.
The sun had set above the mountain circle of Giraldia, the capital of Enritta, a small, yet powerful kingdom on the eastern side of the Enoa continent, was ready to meet another day. Settled right near a large waterfall, the city enjoyed a net of canals with crystalline pure water. Most of the houses’ roofs were decorated with bluish shingles, and the large castle extended both on the surface and the fifty-meter plateau of the river Natta. A beautiful place... was to be afflicted by yet another bad omen.
Recently, the region was nothing but peaceful: monstrous wolves raiding local farms; roads breaking for no apparent reason; whole passages getting blocked by rock collapses; children and adults alike spitting deadly black pox. The city was not defenseless; however, it took a lot of strain to sustain order. With soldiers on constant duty and healers quarantining the sick, at least the semblance of stability could be preserved.
In the meantime, a cloaked figure walked the streets of Giraldia. A man in dirty brown robes never spoke a word, never stayed in one place. Instead, he carried a gilded censer, as if it were a lantern. Everywhere the vagrant went, the plague rapidly subdued. But, despite his best efforts, people were too scared of getting close to the wanderer. He'd only been there for a day, and people were already gossiping. One said that he was a saint who came to rescue Giraldia from its ordeals. The other claimed to have seen a devil, who sowed the seeds of rot, accompanied by a crow with golden eyes. But only one person knew the truth. And they waited in a small alley.
"Years goes by, epochs change one another, time itself crumbles, but something never changes. You have always been everywhere and nowhere at once, Lorenzo." Another voice without a mouth spoke. It belonged to a woman, yet nothing hinted at her gender in the outlook. A fencer with a thin, undulated rapier, carried in nothing but a leather strap. The crimson weapon took its tone not from adamantine alloy, but from the dried blood. Its carrier wore high black boots and greenish trousers with a white shirt under a leather jacket tucked in them. With a full metal mask, symbolizing an old screaming man, and a pair of long velvet gloves, not even a bit of skin was visible.
"Catherine…" The tenth hero whispered. "Who have you murdered to reach me this time?" The hexer’s voice was mundane and restricted, and that alone said much about the undead.
"Please! You never cared much for collateral victims in the first place! Even when you hadn’t traded your pretty face for that atrocious mummy." Bloodbringer mocked the sorcerer; she hadn’t even needed her blade to stab his heart. Even if it had already been dead for centuries. "Releasing the children of Enuas, enslaved in your name, fighting the system that feeds your miserable undead, killing gods, not willing to join your suicidal quest, and now treating victims of your own reluctance. That… Reeharoze is a lost cause."
"No. And neither are you." Lorenzo stated, not even attempting to draw a weapon from his endless pocket.
"Heh… He-he-heh… Oh, you old idiot…" While one lacked any body language, another burst into laughter. Although her throat was long gone, the reflex remained intact. "You, me, Tarson, Reeharoze! Don’t you remember how it ended the last time? We’ve killed each other! You, Lorenzo, just can’t stop! I can’t let you destroy the laws of Deimos-!.."
"Why can you not see how much pain they are causing?" The dark magician argued, clumsily extending his arms. "Look at the will of Ahriman! Look, how he answers the minor offense!"
"This happens only because you couldn’t put Reeharoze to rest! It’s her fault! Snap out of it, at last! In a world filled with monsters and dark horrors, we can’t live without something that makes us strong!" Bloodbringer snarled, as barely noticeable drops of blood poured from under her helmet.
"We, as humans? For you have stopped being one long ago!" Now Lorenzo threateningly raised his thin, cold arm. "Instead of eradicating monsters who killed our sons, you have become one!"
"You can’t erase them! These animals are just a part of Enoa, as demi-humans! You just lack the bravery to admit it! And resolve to become what you were always meant to be!" Catherine cried, suppressing her immense powers. How many times have we had this conversation? Tens? Hundreds? Thousands of times?
"I will not sacrifice Tarson!" The hexer swore, watching the divine bird in the sky. The latter, in his wisdom, never stood between these two.
"But you shan’t spare whoever stands in your way…" Bloodbringer fretted, trying to remember their centuries of constant war. Three hundred years felt like one long cycle of hatred and violence, with only their lives — real lives — mattering.
"Animals mutate into monsters by wild magic, a byproduct of the Laws of Deimos." The undead hero deadpanned.
"And all of spellcasting, including the spiritual powers, which are native to this world. Will you destroy it all? And if yes, what will remain afterwards?"
"Peace."
"No, Lorenzo. Death." Catherine shook her masked head with disappointment. "I thought ourdeaths would finally stop this circle of madness, but we were denied even this. Lorenzo, in memory of our old marriage, I shan’t battle you here. We all make mistakes, but if you go on, you won’t leave me another choice."
"I will not rest until the last god falls before me. Including that serpent you foolishly revere!"
"Suit yourself, my love. But damn me if I let you turn the world into your spitting image." On these words, the Champion turned back, drew her rapier, and violently slashed her own forearm. An unnatural amount of blood spilled on the ground before forming a crimson rift in the space itself.
"Wait, Catherine…" Rashly, almost desperately, the sorcerer halted his nemesis. "Do not touch Keyaru. He is still weak, but he will become our savior!"
"No. He’s just a mutilated rapist, left to complete your unfinished business." Bloodbringer dismissively argued, before stepping into the portal. "Farewell, Lorenzo… Until we meet again."
…
A winged woman waded into the white palace. Her eyes looked at the carpeted floor, and her head nervously trembled. Only her shivering left arm protected the violet-skinned woman from Enritta’s guardians. Men and women, fighters and mages — their pikes mauled her flesh, their spells broke her limbs, but none of them could put an end to the abomination’s misery, for she recovered even from the most grievous wounds in a matter of seconds. Neither could anyone remain conscious for longer than half a minute in the black mist before succumbing to a sleep spell. Dozens, even hundreds, failed to stop her solitary procession toward the king’s chambers. Nothing short of a true hero could.
By that time, Traman von Mirtia had been unable to stay away from his bed for long. Wheezing and coughing, the aged monarch, even during the hottest days of the summer, remained covered in thick bed sheets. He wasn’t ruling anymore; that privilege and burden remained with his son Castor. Yet, the spirit never crumbled in this fighter.
"Ghh, damn that old body… What… is that fucking ruckus?" Despite everything, the elder managed to stand on his own. When he did, when the crowned ruffian headed toward the door, it was opened by the bodies of his elite bodyguards. An emissary of darkness announced her arrival.
"I’m… I’m so sorry… I need you dead. Only… you…" Reeharoze spoke with the voice of a frightened woman, not the immortal demigoddess she had been raised as. The winged horror expected her target to be just as terrified as she was, but found no coward there.
"A-ah, finally, damn it!" The king in white pajama robe took his blackened mace from the wall and assumed a battle stance. His knees creaked, his arms quaked, but still, age couldn’t strip him of technique. "Before you murder me, tell me, was it Margurth who sent you?"
"…" Only a short nod was her answer. The messenger of the void was not someone who made an impression of a powerful entity, yet there she stood, with a trace of bodies as a track.
"Fuck, I knew he was deranged, but to send a demon crygirl after me is something else."
"I… am sorry…" Reeharoze spoke, raising her shivering hand to form a sphere of darkness. But pretending to fight her nearly unkillable friend was different from actually murdering an innocent man in cold blood.
"Wait, did you even have a choice in that matter?" Traman wondered, slightly lowering his guard.
"…" She slowly shook her head. A sphere of deadly darkness threatened to rip him apart, but the man would rather… pity his murderer.
"Hey, girl! Was it you who caused all that nuisance to Giraldia?" The monarch wondered, looking at her wings. This series of catastrophes started with some of his subjects seeing a winged creature, whose description coincided with that of Reeharoze.
"Y-yes." As was to be shown.
"Would you leave after my death?" Traman asked, receiving another nod. "Do you need my son?" And the second question…
"No. Not now…" The demi-goddess once again glanced at the man. "I don’t want to do it. You… You’re sick, only a few days before you die on your own."
"You… killed my entire guard, cast a plague on my lands by the order of your king, and now you want to spare me? Girl, what’s up with your head?" The bewildered dying monarch just couldn’t stomach the situation.
"Not killed. They’ll wake… soon. And my friend is helping with hea-" Reeharoze wasn’t allowed to finish. Let alone dispel her black sphere. A fair-haired man, carrying a brown suit and a blessed sword, decapitated the perpetrator.
"Father, are you not h-?.." And just as the winged woman was interrupted by his blade, Prince Castor was stupefied upon seeing a large bleeding hole in Traman’s chest. With nobody to cancel the abyssal spell, it reached its goal in the end. "Oh no… No, no, no, no!.."
"Why? WHY?!" A melancholic voice now was powered by sadness and anger, as a cut head turned into black dust to reunite the fallen body. "WHY DID YOU DO THIS?!!"
Before Castor knew it, he faced the screaming woman. Black tears ran down her violet cheeks…
…
"Is it morning already?"
Keyaruga woke up in his rented room. On the left, he spotted Setsuna, his willing slave and a fellow fighter. On the right slept Freia, the princess without a kingdom, now doomed to serve her most hated man. Or blessed with the chance of a new life. It all depended on the perspective. She was happy with her change, while the local slavers… not so much.
The healer wouldn’t deny himself a chance to pet their hair. The she-wolf had hers smooth and straight, whereas the sorceress’s pink curls were always fizzy. Even more after their nights together.
Previously, the red-eyed lad destroyed Leonard, the man responsible for the devastation of Alban, and the deaths of Anna and Kurt. He had to pay, to feel what it’s like to be a victim, so that he could be reborn as a better person... Somewhere in the future. Then… there was a question with Norn. While realizing that the warlady was behind that assault, yet the hero just couldn’t bring himself to hate her. Keyaruga knew exactly what she was, and why she did what she did. He… promised to stop her, and yet he failed. He chose not to notice.
"M-m… Good morning, my Lord."
"Yeah, morning, Freia." After the greeting, the man grabbed his companion and tossed her onto his torso in the way, which let him bury his face into the girl’s massive breasts.
"M-my lord?.. Do you want… to make some love?" The Hero of Magic asked flirtatiously.
"I just need to think. Don’t move." Keyaruga growled, breathing in the feminine aroma, rubbing his cheeks on those soft and smooth tits. The feeling itself was pleasant enough for him to just close his eyes and contemplate.
Norn could not be allowed to continue. Margurth Rikil Jioral didn’t deserve to have his talented daughter at the head of the kingdom’s army. The red-haired lad would rather have her there, with him, than conspiring against their noble cause. "You know, I’d like to have a brother like you." The man remembered their last conversation before the fatal future was erased. He could transform Norn into something resembling her sister, but even without the mind of genius, the magician knew who she was. And with Keyaruga’s plans to usurp Jioral and put the youngest Jioral on the throne, brainwashing seemed like a lost cause from the very start.
"Nh… Nm!.. Ale-fa-nis, master." It was Setsuna. Barely did she wake up, the huntress found her prey between the hero’s legs. Now, she was masterfully licking her "future".
"I see your claws were not the only thing to improve." Keyaruga praised her ally, putting Freia nearby. Just enough to feel the princess's lips, her warmth.
"Uh-huh. Setsuna… has been learning. To please you." The girl briefly spoke before returning to her morning routine. Her agile tongue got better and better, along with Phasian, and making Keyaruga happy. It’d been less than a week, and the ice warrior could already make her man squirm. Or, at least, pleasantly shiver, while Freia embraced and kissed him like there would be no tomorrow. Setsuna’s wet mouth, her struggling, her innate charm, in tandem with Freia’s beauty and kindness, made the man surrender in no time.
"Uh…” It even took a bit of strain for the hero not to moan. Not too much, but still.
"Gulp. Setsuna will be strong." The gray-haired girl happily smiled, like a child when being presented with a new toy. Her grammar arsenal now included past and future tenses. The man broke into a series of kisses. His crimson pupils looked at the sorceress’ blue.
"So, how was yesterday?" The red-eyed lad wondered, groping Freia’s breast.
"Excellent, magnificent, I would say." The magician replied, as her smooth arm rubbed Keyaruga’s manhood. "We released around... well, many-many of these poor things. Although, we had to do without Lorenzo’s help in evacuating them. These underground tunnels were so stinky, I could throw up even now, feh."
"Please, don’t. That’d ruin all the mood." The healer sneered, moving his arm closer to the girl’s bottom.
"And Setsuna got stronger." The huntress cheerfully boasted, joining her friend’s efforts in raising her master’s rod. While Freia tried to make the world a better place, the ice warrior sought strength.
"By the way, where’s Kureha?" Keyaruga wondered before quickly noticing the heroine’s reserved smile and the fighter’s scowl. Freia seems to have come to terms with her presence, but Setsuna? I think she’s still jealous. Maybe, of her battle skills?
"Re… reccone… sen?" The huntress tried to spell the word, and she failed miserably.
"Reconnaissance? I see." In the night, the man barely even noticed her absence. At that time, he wanted sex and a nightmareless sleep, and now… Now he heard a few quiet knocks at his door. The lascivious tone faded, as the man stood up and headed to the source of the nuisance without even caring to dress up. After all, his eye glowed jade. And when he faced it… "Hello, Kureha. Come in."
"O-oh… I…" The swordswoman blushed, covering her embarrassed face. This was exactly what Flare warned her of. "I’ll have my leave. That was not the right time." With that said, the fencer turned around, swiping Keyaruga’s extended hand aside. The latter didn’t feel too proactive at the moment, which couldn’t be farther from the truth for Freia. The princess dashed forward and literally dragged both her man and his new woman inside. The door slammed shut.
"Listen here! My lord made a move on you, and now you will just undermine him? Decide, either you are with us, or no!" The caster snarled, pointing her fingers in the fencer’s chest. Now, the magician mysteriously sympathized with the Swordmaster. Too much of herself did she see in those blue eyes.
"Stop it, Freia. I won’t force you, we just need you as an ally." The lad clarified, standing between the rivals. But even his interruption meant little at that point.
"Could I… join you? Keyaru…ga, Freia, Setsuna?" Kureha asked with her eyes lowered. No longer intoxicated with aphrodisiac, Silver Death asked to be accepted rather than barge into the man’s private life, even if it was his ploy all along.
"U… Uh-huh… But master pleases all three." First one to answer was the she-wolf, with an ultimate condition.
"I will follow whatever choice you make, Keyaruga." Then, the princess voiced her resolution. "As long as you’re happy."
"Well, welcome aboard, my dear. If you’re willing to truly join us, then this is how we start our day." With a kiss, and then…
…
And then, after a couple of hours of passionate orgy, including doing it in the bathtub, all the team finally proceeded to their breakfast.
"So, what’s the news?" Keyaruga asked Silver Death, while munching two sausages at once. The girls were quite persistent in their passion, and now the lad felt even more exhausted than after fighting the Swordmaster in a mortal duel.
"Yes, we would like to listen." Freia cheerfully added her aspiration. After all, fighting dozens of slavers side by side and sharing the same man at the same time did make the ice between the two thinner. Even with the sorceress still clinging to her enslaver and liberator a bit too much.
"This is important one." The girl spoke, and her smile of sexual satisfaction quickly disappeared. She spent the whole night on this, and that had its malicious effect on the fencer’s facial skin. And she still hasn't touched her food. "First, captain Leonard and his four men went missing. The soldiers are still searching for them."
"They won’t succeed. I lured them into my trap and murdered them all." The hero shrugged without even a slight concern.
"Because of what they’ve done to your people?" Kureha inquired, while the other girls quietly ate their meals.
"Leonard raped my foster mother, his men slaughtered my father, and after tossing his cut head near her, she chose to bite her tongue off." Keyaruga spoke, nervously grinning. Nobody mistook that for a sort of happy smile. "Then, he let his assholes fuck her corpse. So yes, half the reason was my vengeance."
"This… I can’t describe it even. Please, forgive me for not helping them, Keyaruga."
"When they came, you… You were on your way here." The healer replied dismissively. "I wish none of you saw how I treated him. I made this fucker suffer, kept him alive, only for him to feel the same pain. Yet, that didn’t help my parents. I can only travel back in time to save them…"
"I… see…" Kureha offered her condolences with a slow nod, while Freia marked Keyaruga’s words. He spoke them not as an abstract dream, but a full-fledged option. She knew just how tormented her beloved was, but this could add another deep layer to his traumas. Setsuna too sympathized, but with no outside indication. She would help her master, the she-wolf would let him kill his foes, inside and outside alike.
"I had another reason. Apparently, Leonard had been looking for Flare. Wanted to finish the job. I couldn’t let him go. And maybe, his demise would stop my fellow villagers’ execution." The man deadpanned. Truth be told, the lad didn’t even care much at that point. With Anna’s death, this brand new life started to look like a rough draft. And he still remained cautious about a Champion’s possible interference.
"I understand. But the latter proved in vain." Kureha said, making the tough atmosphere even worse.
"What do you know?" Keyaruga asked, tossing a quick glance at Freia. The sorceress processed the information, and the hero would soon acknowledge her right to the truth. Just not yet.
"Their execution is scheduled for this Sunday, in the local colosseum. Since that three days term has almost passed, and you didn’t show up, they postponed the date."
"Sunday… It's Tuesday now. So, we have five days to get ready." The healer spoke, noticing a strange reaction on Setsuna’s face. Mixed feelings of sadness, anger, and disappointment. "What happened?"
"…" The huntress merely pointed her finger at Kureha. And the latter made a long exhale.
"Forgive me, but I forbade them from approaching that place."
"They hold slaves in there, making them fight against monsters just for the amusement of a crowd! Surely, you must like it there!" Freia quarreled, slamming her hands on the table.
"Listen, princess!" And this time, the swordswoman wouldn’t restrain herself. "Dealing with slaver scum is one thing, they die by the dozens every day! Tackling Jioral is another! Do you know what your enemies’ positions are? Patrol routes? Threat level? A whole damn killing barrier? If not, then do not make Keyaruga mourn your death as well!"
Freia opened her mouth, but not a single word left her lips. Kureha had a pretty valid point. After all, a mighty magic barrier protected the amphitheater of murders. Tribunes were shielded from monsters by a translucent dome, which could bring brutal death to everything inside. It’s a trap, but I have to step in it.
"Great intel. With that, I can take measures." The healer said, although without any enthusiasm.
"Oh gods, not you too. Saving people is a heroic deed, but what is the point if you die prior?"
"I won’t. I will succeed and show the world just how mad this rotten kingdom is." Even though the sorrow still remained, Keyaruga now glittered with resolve.
"No, you!.. Are you mad? You will die! Are you not afraid?" Silver Death warned, trying to stop the lad from this suicidal attempt...
"I am! I am afraid to die without achieving anything!" The memories of the bottomless black void were still fresh... "If you’re fine with that, then go on! Denounce me! But I warn you, next time I will not be so merciful!"
"This is not what I meant!" The fencer answered, barely restraining herself from yelling curses in the hero’s face. "I can not let you take this risk!" Oh… Setsuna, you were right!
"Listen here, you!.." The Hero of Magic was ready to burst, to scream at Silver Death.
"Oh no, you listen!.."
"SILENCE!!!" The man screamed, stopping both girls at once. "I know, you’re worried, but we have our ways around this! So you’re either with us, or against!"
"I will continue to fight for you till the bitter end!" Kureha swore, putting her arm at her chest. “But first, you have to tell me your plan!”
"No, that won’t be necessary." The man dismissed Swordmaster’s help before approaching her up close.
"This is why I raise my sword now!"
"Do not mistake my words for what they aren’t! I literally don’t need you here!" The lad decreed, as his eyes watched Freia and Setsuna. Neither of them tried anything weird, nor did they visibly rejoice in Kureha’s potential banishment. "I need you to stay at Jioral’s court. There, you’ll have two tasks: first, provide me with information about the king’s affairs. Second…" At that point, the Hero of Healing lowered himself just enough to whisper. "…I need you to protect Norn. I know she’s back in Capital.” And now, in full voice… “After we’re done here, she’ll have to head to Buranikka. I’ll be waiting for her there."
"Is this abandonment? Or trust?" The swordswoman pondered, barely hiding her grudge.
"I can’t ask anyone else. Also, I don’t think I can make you happy, so you better find another man." Keyaruga advised, sitting near the Silver Death. The latter wasted no time in hugging the hero.
"Is she… important to you?" The silver-haired girl quietly inquired. Like most soldiers, her opinion of the cruel warlady was not the best.
"Yes. I… need her."
"Then… This is our farewell." Kureha stood up to grab her remaining short sword and armor. "If you want to see me again, just ask. I will come to your side.” The swordswoman promised, as her hands rapidly fastened the leather belts of her equipment. “Keyaruga… you never told me, how you acquired our family mastership.”
“I will, after we meet again.” The man assured, watching his new companion leave.
“You’re making my wait all the more unbearable.” Kureha smiled, turning her back to the Hero of Healing. “Goodbye, my love.” And then, she left. Without her, it got quiet, to the point of discomfort. Setsuna reflected on Keyaruga’s sufferings, Freia pondered over her sister and her potential connection to the healer in another time, and the man himself tried to not get absorbed by regrets. Whatever trap awaited him, with discipline, resolve and cautious planning, he would prevail in the end.
"She will not do as master says." Setsuna shook her beautiful head, breaking the silence.
"Yes, you’re pretty much stuck with her, my lord." And Freia’s remark was no different.
"This is fine. After all, we can still use her." Especially in my vengeance.
