《Elysium》


 Prologue: Loss

    Pain! So much pain!


    I could only feel this raw sensation as I was lying there on the ground, admist burned pieces of furniture and the likely remains of my friends and myself.


    My eyes didn''t work properly, probably wounded by pieces of wood or metal that ricocheted through the parlor after the explosion. But my nose on the other hand perfectly captured the smell of burned hair and sizzling flesh.


    I tried to open my dry throat, plea for help. But my tongue seemed paralyzed and my lungs seemed to have collapsed. The pain mainly focused on my chest area, I was surely impaled by something; a table leg maybe.


    The feeling in my limbs was non-existent, except for unbearable pain. I could feel my blood slowly dripping on the carbonized ground, like an hourglass each drop represented the little time I had left.


    When a small puddle of blood formed itself under my body I could faintly hear the sound of sirens, it sounded so far away but I knew it was just my sense playing a prank on me. The ambulance was already here.


    Fire fighters desperatly tried to free my body from the debris. They responded quick, acting with the utmost care to not hurt me.


    Only the adrenaline in my system kept me awake for the few minutes until the fire fighters gave up. The paramedics desperately tried to keep me alive with infusions and breathing masks. Cpr was out of the question as the contraction of my pectoral muscles would cause the thing that was lodging itself deep in my chest to move and cause even more damage.


    Sweat trickled down from the paramedics, the heat and the scene of destruction was straining them mentally.


    I lightly smiled towards the paramedics. I tried to open my mouth again to thank them but only incoherent burbles left my throat. My mouth filled with blood and the taste of iron and copper remained.


    It was to late. I felt myself growing tired, my body was cold and warm at the same time. Lightheadedness made me feel comfortable but I dreaded what would happen next.


    I was never a person that was fixated solely on one idea of afterlife. Reincarnation, nirvana, heaven/hell, simply nothing, I believed in it all and doubted these ideologies at the same time. They didn''t sit right with me, but whatever.


    I tried to defy death, like any living being would do at its last moments. I feared what might happen, feared the unknown. Tears glistened in my eyes as I reluctantly gave in to the cold embrace of death.


    Oh right! ''How did he die?'' some of you might wonder. Well let me just introduce myself and then we can start.


    My name is, or was, Antero Ribeiro. 28 years old.


    My parents were of portuguese origin and immigrated to Germany where I went to school. I had two older brothers and we were a happy family, even if we had disputes inbetween we still loved each other.


    My brothers left when they were roughly 20, studying abroad or simply enjoying life. I did the same when I finished school. I was a lazy person, but if money was involved I would do anything.


    I loved biochemistry as well so I sat my lazy ass down and studied. First I went to a university in Germany, studying biochemistry and all its facets; meaning; mathematics, physical chemistry, inorganic chemistry, but I also switched to bionics and astrophysics. God I loved science.


    After building up a decent reputation I was awarded a grant from Seoul National University. Of course I accepted.


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    I was only 22 at that time. Further studying for 4 years of my life I realized that this was not what I wanted. I loved science yea, but I did not wanted to waste a third of my life dedicated towards biology and the like.


    So with 26 I travelled back to Germany. My parents were furious when they heard what I did. But I couldn''t care less.


    I left them once again, visiting foreign countries and only keeping me alive with part time jobs. It felt nice somehow. I was free and enjoyed the change of scenery every few weeks.


    I learned many things and in the end I settled in Australia. I loved the landscapes and the exotic flora and fauna. Not everything is deadly in Australia, trust me.


    I studied business adminestration and became manager of a small retail chain.


    Settled in Australia, having a steady job, a few girlfriends between and a solid clique, I lived quite happily.


    On a weekend off I was invited to a friend''s house. We all needed time for relaxation, a few drinks and a bag of pot seemed perfect for the occasion.


    My friend''s house was build right atop of a underground pipeline. Illegal? Yes.


    We were enjoying ourselves when suddenly the earth began to shake. The earthquake was not to severe and everything seemed fine after a few minutes.


    The quaking began anew but this time it appeared more like distortions in space. I could hear the girders of the house groaning under the pressure. My friends panicked and shit went down.


    A blinding explosion. Afterwards darkness and pain.


    The pipeline exploded right under our feet. The house was completely destroyed and the roof caved in.


    It was only for a moment that I heard my friends pained screams until they were silenced. My friends were dead, burnt corpses that would hardly ever be identified.


    Everything went black, pitch black. My ''body'' felt light ¨C and fragile ¨C. Sadness filled my heart. I wanted to go back to my family and friends, hoping that this was only a nightmare.


    I knew I would die someday; but just like that, at the prime of my life? It was laughable.


    Time flowed as I welled in the abyss. There was nothing at all, I hoped for purgatory or something, or that my existence would be erased so I wouldn''t have to endure any longer. But I was conscious in a sense; it made it only worse though.


    I had time to think, about what would happen, what awaited me. My thoughts went back to a topic I avoided like the pest. My family. How are they doing? What happened to my friends and where are they?


    Admist all these thoughts realisation finally kicked REALLY in. I was just sad at first but now... I felt immense grief. I would NEVER see my family again. My loving brothers and parents; they were gone, FOREVER! It was all gone, in mere seconds I lost everything. I wasstripped of my loved ones and now I was withering away in nothingness.


    I felt sick, my mind was spinning and I only wanted everything to end.


    After what felt like years my body experienced a slight tug. I turned towards the direction of the pull and saw a blidning light.


    ''Heaven is it?''. I thought to myself as I slowly entered the sphere of white without any expectations or emotions, I only drifted towards the inexplicable phenomenon.

 Chapter 001: Denial

    When I reached the light it felt as if I entered a new world altogether. The light was replaced by darkness but this time it was warm darkness, it felt cozy and secure.


    I turned my head around, as far as it was possible, and moved my limbs to adjust my body to the narrow darkness.


    Suddenly a thought hit me. ''Why do I have limbs?''. This thought was followed by, ''Why is that so surprising?''. I had no idea why the presence of limbs made my mind jerk in surprise and honestly I didn''t want to know.


    My body was small, inexplicable small. It was fragile and weak, each movement made me tired and after only a minute or two my eyelids were forced shut.


    I dreamt of an explosion, screams and faces of unknown people. It hurt my heart whenever I saw those faces. It hurt so much that I wanted to cry.


    My mind felt numb whenever my thoughts went farthern than who these people were. It felt as if I was missing something.


    You probably know this feeling, when you know that you are forgetting something really important and it makes your guts churn. You feel sick and panicked at the same time but you still remain helpless. This was how I felt.


    Sometimes I also questioned my ability to think. It felt unnatural and wrong. I somehow knew this shouldn''t be possible and once again my thoughts became cloudy. Something was preventing me from thinking. Thinking about the unknown things and it made me anxious.


    The warm darkness sometimes made strange sounds, contracted and wobbled. It felt oppressive the longer I stayed in here. And if my mind wasn''t playing tricks on me I could swear that the darkness was getting closer with each day.


    There was another thing that was nagging at my consciousness. A feeling of foreign warmth deep within my body. At the beginning it was burning hot but after time it somehow assimilated with me. There were so many questions unanswered but I could tell that they would be resolved with time.


    The darkness was now really close, pressing against my body.  I was panicking, what would happen now? I was unsure about my current situation and it unnerved me.


    A feeling of missing something grew further inside my mind. With each moment that passed the faces became more distinct but at the same time my head started spinning and thus the faces kept being unclear, as I decided that further thinking would be detrimental.


    Something was hindering me from remembering. ''A biological protection from overloading the premature brain'', I thought. And at the same time the feeling of diziness turned into a sharp pain. I didn''t know where this knowledge came from, it was just there.


    The random knowledge I gained grew with each second and at the same time the pain and wooziness lessened. The point was close were the mysteries will be unveiled.


    I counted the hours inside the ever shrinking darkness until a sudden contraction shook me out of my trance.


    My body was being pulled towards the darkness, or rather a small hole that was left unnoticed by me. The hole expanded so that my head was able to go through. I felt different once I left the hole. My breathing stopped, nay, I couldn''t breath to begin with. How could that be? ''Am I a baby? Was I reborn?'', the thoughts hit like thunder and a mind numbing pain spread through my body. Cold sweat was pouring out of my skin and I desperatly tried to breath.


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    Like a pig in a slaughterhouse small squeals escaped my tiny throat, they were highpitched and filled with agony. I felt something grabbing onto my body adn gently lift me up. Foreign voices entered my ears in a language unknown to me. It sounded like nothing I have ever heard, neither german, english or any other language I came across.


    Again pain riddled my mind as I thought about the incoherent mumble that was sounding around me. Knowledge of language and the like went straight into my mind, filling another piece of the puzzle.


    I accomplished to regulate my breathing and calm my anxious self. With my eyes slowly openning I was greeted by a wrinkled face. First I thought I would see everything upside down but then I remembered that this is only a misbelief. The nerves of the visual cortex are already adjusted to the dimensions of space from day one onwards. Again my mind was filled with numbing pain. ''Brain damage?'', I thought and only worsened the pain.


    I could see the wrinkled face for only a moment as I was gently passed towards two big warm hands. They were callused but gentle. ''A man'', is what I thought. A face approached me and confirmed my assumptions.


    A sturdy, tanned man in his early thirties. He had gentle dark blue eyes and a thick curly black beard that covered his lips and chin. He had no hair on top of his head but this was compensated by his santa beard. A brilliant smile was barely visible under the man''s beard and huge droplets of tears swelled in his eyes.


    With his scruffy beard he approached my forehead and gave me a light kiss. His beard tickled and I would have laughed wouldn''t I have been stunned by the deep sadness that was unbeknownst to me filling my heart.


    I tried to stop the tears as I remembered what this person represented. ''Father''. Yes I knew it this man was my father but instead of happiness it filled me with grief.


    As his big hands passed me towards the next person my heart sunk into a bottomless pit. I was passed towards a woman that would be in all aspects of aesthetics be considered a beauty, even her sickly face and exhausted complexion couldn''t take the beauty from her.


    She wore a long white robe and laid in a comfy bed, her long dark brown hair flowed freely over her shulders and smaragd green eyes stared into my own. Her skin was pale from giving birth but a light an was already visible. Her lips were dark red and her expression held gentleness and love but fiercness and austerity as well.


    What made her really stand out were the small ivory colored horns that grew out of her head right over her ears. I knew that this shouldn''t be possible, no human being could look like that. But this was not the only thing I apparently knew.


    I finally remembered the person and what she was. ''My mother''. That woman infront of me was without a doubt my mother and with this thought the final piece of the puzzle fell into place.


    My brain was filled with what I believed to have forgotten. The memories of the past. I screamed and cried, the air in my lungs left me as pain uncomparable to before spread through my body. My final banshee like wail accompanied me into the sleep.

 Chapter 002: Cries

    The last gutural scream knocked me into darkness; once again.


    But this time the darkness was overwhelming. My memories were back and with it waves of grief and sadness. The sheer power of emotions left me baffled, it felt as if my insides were torn apart and burned at the same time.


    Inside of the darkness the faces of my friends appeared. Happy and alive they gazed at me with a brilliant smile. My family gave me loving looks, their eyes saying ''Let''s meet again!''. But it will never happen.


    Soon after the faces distorted, some splattered with blood, charred black and bits and pieces of flesh missing. Others, my family to be exact, were red-eyed. I could already imagine my mother sitting in our old house, waiting for a call or the like. The police knocks, introducing themselves, asking if she could have a seat. The eyes of my parents widening as the officers mention my name, ask if I was their son and then the dreaded question my parents would ask; ''Officer is my son alright?'', or something like that. The officers fall silent, slowly reaching out for my mother, holding her shoulders. She trembles, collapses into her old couch, her hands pulling on her hazelnutbrown hairs, leaving bloody spots, with the same rythm as her tears fall.


    The thoughts terrified me, I loved my family dearly. As a kid I sometimes played with the idea of ending my own life only to not witness my family''s death as I was the youngest.


    They were my only family. My ONLY! And yet I was taken away from them, they were taken away from me. I didn''t want this!


    My cheerful brothers, my worrying mother and my laid-back father. I wanted to be together with them.


    I screamed out in the darkness. [FUCK! FUCK! FUCK!...], over and over again. The roaring silence that answered back caused extreme anguish inside of my already broken heart, nobody would answer me; I was alone, in this darkness and in the light.


    I prayed the darkness away that overshadowed me. ''All was just a dream'', I hoped.


    It was then that something inside of me snapped, it fell apart like a house of cards in the wind. My heart dulled and my emotions seemed clogged. ''After extreme trauma the mind proceedes to eradicate the cause of this specific trauma to prevent it and secure survival. Mostly its down scaling of emotions, denial, etc.''. I could only give a wry smile as the knowledge popped out of my mind.


    What use would it have now? And to be honest I really appreciated the work my brain did and I would even prefer permanent memory loss or the like to occur. That way I wouldn''t have to walk around with the knowledge that I lost my most precious people.


    Sadly the ''emotional limiter'' was barely able to keep up with the growing heartache. At worst I could die from ''broken heart syndrome''.


    ''Ohhh the irony!'', I got a new life but the robbing of my old life could cause a sudden death in this new life of mine. What sense would that make? I got a new life just to experience pain and then a meaningless death?


    ''No! I won''t freakin'' die!'', I tried to steal myself. If I die it would be all for naught.'' Why not dedicate this life towards my family? Live it to the best of my abilities and treasure the memories in my broken heart. As long as I could remember them they weren''t really lost, maybe there was even a way to get back?! It was a new life, a new world, a new chance after all.''


    ''What the heck am I talking about?'', I really did try to psyche myself up but who would expect from a person to so easily cope with their own death?


    ''Maybe, time... yeah time will be all that is needed...''. I sighed, the darkness and the faces receded. I would have to live a new life from now on.


    New faces, new people, new memories and friends to be made.


    The darkness lit up, my closed eyes slowly revealed themselves.


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    I looked around. I was lying inside of a wooden cradle. My head could only slightly turn, making me gaze at the dark brown ceiling for roughly half an hour. The room was lit by glowing stones that were imbeded into the ceiling. Either there was a chemical reaction happening inside of the unkown mineral or this was one of the rumored worlds with ''magic'' that was so often talked about in lightnovels. I really hoped for the first as fantasy archetypical ''magic'' could not be explained by any form of science. Energy waves or magnetic fields would consume to much energy to fit in a humanoid creature, so even those explanations would be flawed.


    My ears perked up as faint footsteps resounded from out of the room. This was my chance to draw attention, my stomach was killing me and as far as I understood I was a baby and needed the nutrition dearly.


    I was shocked by how well I was fitting into the situation. ''Maybe I did cope better with my death? Who knows.''. That thought has proven itself as wrong.


    The moment I thought back to my family the tears started to flow non stop. Hot, nay, boiling and salty tears ran down my cheeks. They burned on my skin yet I couldn''t stop them. One cry after the other, ever growing louder, escaped my tiny throat. The burning hot tears flowed like rivers and seemed nigh infinte.


    The footsteps outside became hurried, a door swung open and soon two hands lifted me up to a wrinkled face. The face was gentle and warm, it had a female touch and radiated your typical grandmother aura.


    "Nyriem Ishtar Isk Hynir.". Although the beauty of her face was taken by time, her voice was still as soft as silk. Coupled with her bed of white hair, threads of silver, and her steel grey eyes made her a beacon of security. The foreign words chimed like the rythmic play of a dozen harps.


    "Nyriem Inshir Tomil Myhril.". I had no idea what she said but it soothed my pained heart. The tears unwillingly cralwed back and my screams turned into soft whails.


    "Muy''yiem Hyn Ashir.". The woman said and hugged me against her chest. Her scent remembered me of my own grandparents, alas they died when I was younger. The elderly lady continued to soothe me with words, or rather a song. The tone was melancholic and at the same time jolly. It reminded me of a heroic fairytale, a tale of tragedy and romance and I liked it.


    The calming melody made me relax, my tears stopped eventually and my mind was at ease. I gave into the growing sensation of sleepiness.


    I felt my body being carried into another room. After a while the old woman handed me over to another pair of smaller and more tender hands. They felt warm, even more so than the gentle hands of the granny. They felt right.


    My face was pressed against a soft mound. Although I felt tired, the moment my faced touched the warm mound and the slightly hardened tip I was wide awake. ''Breastfeeding?!''. It felt uncomfortable as an adult to be force-fed like a child, even more so when the person in question was aware of the act.


    Her chest was getting steadily closer, my head craned further away from it. It was imperative for me to get my dose of breast milk, to strengthen my immune system, but I was still reluctant about it. Sadly my instincts and the empty pit in my stomach forced me. I felt the nurturing liquid flowing down my throat as I greedily sucked while I shed manly tears. ''There was still so much to endure. So much to discover. Huh....''. I sighed in my mind. I was an adult, yeah, but being thrown in a new environment and losing any connection to your family would even make the elderly crazy.


    With warmth spreading through my system I embraced the well deserved sleep. Tomorrow would be a new day.

 Chapter 003: A new Dawn

    I slept, peacefully, no nightmares, nothing. Just me and my cushy cradle. The first days flew by like the wind. Mostly I was sleeping, pooping or eating. And seriously the latter two were pretty awkward to do. Knowing that you are an adult and somebody is wiping your ass clean does not sit right with me.


    It was embarassing so each time I felt the urge I would start to cry, sometime a few days later my ''parents'' finally saw the pattern. Everytime I cried they would sit me on top of a wooden bowl. It was still embarassing to have people watch you do your deed but whatever. That way the ass-wiping was kept to a minimum.


    The hardest part for me was to accustom myself to the overall situation. I was reborn, had the knowledge of my old world, the memories, the pain. Everything was still fresh but there were other things as well.


    I could remember the warming sensation in my chest when I was in my ''mother''s'' womb. From time to time the warmth spreads again and recedes as quickly as it came. I began to worry if something was wrong with me. My head also hurt sometimes, there was to much information my matured mind sent towards my premature brain. I woudl investigate the causes later as I couldn''t put my mind to it.


    Most of the time I was lying in the craddle, staring holes in the ceiling and thinking about my future. I had no idea what to do from now on. It was a magical world after all.


    If fantasy stories are not straight out wrong then I was bound to become an adventurer, it would fit with my past lifestyle.


    Venture deep into uncharted territory, slay beasts and rescue the dammsel in distress from the fiery dragon. Mind you I was an adult but who the hell did not have these thoughts?


    The mere idea was just so breathtaking! I lost my old life but in turn I got a blank slate right before me. I could be anything and anyone.


    But from my observations I could tell that this was the classic medieval setting. Wooden huts, rough clothing and only sparse sanitation were the norm. And from your classic run-of-the-mill fantasy stories it would mean that strength decides everything, or rather power. Be it in the form of intelligence, physical- or magical-prowess, or your shrewdness that would fit into a world of politicians.


    I would need all those aspects to enjoy my stay in this new world.


    My to-do list therefore consisted of: Learning martial arts, decent survival skills and strengthening of my body; Increasing my knowledge of history, culture, flora and fauna, etc. of the new world;  Looking for magic, mana or any other source of non-earthly energy.


    These few aspects encompassed a giant whole. In ''survival skills'', smithing, tailoring, maintaining of all sorts of weapons, foraging, etc. were all included. It was a giant amalgamation of knowledge that was compulsory for my survival.


    My chubby fingers tingled with excitement, there was so much to do, so much to discover! Yes I might have been a lazy person but only if things didn''t catch my attention. How could one not be excited in a new world?!


    Before I forget, my new name seems to be Hyrion. I could tell because my parents always played with my tiny feet and hands and said this one partciular word while making baby sounds.


    To be honest I was quite scared when my father''s face suddenly popped out of the corner of my eyes, making baby noises while lifting my body up and down.


    I already got the grasp on a few words. My parents lifted objects or pointed at some and repeatedly said their names. Surprisingly I learned it really fast, I know it was because of my special physique but I thought my mature mind that was inhabiting this body would prevent the hightened memorization and learning rate that comes with being a baby.


    For adaptation purposes to my future life style I tried to do a few flexibility exercises whenever my parents weren''t watching. I did it to the best of my abilities though. Which means it was mostly me trying to crane my neck up and down, clenching my fists and rotating my shoulders. While I was doing all this excersize I remembered a few of the fantasy stories I have read. Where the reincarnated protagonist tries to get an early feel for magic around him, most of the time it was achieved randomly, through a life or death situation or through meditation.


    I couldn''t hope for the first two so I tried meditation, or rather simple relaxation. I couldn''t really get into a croos-legged position so I opted for a lying position.


    My hands were folded over my abdomen, legs stretched out and my eyes focused on the glowing ''lamp'' at the ceiling. I changed between forcefully bluring my vision and refocusing, resulting in my mind getting dazed. In the end I shut my eyes completely, listening only to the sound of my heart beat and the rythm of my breaths.


    On the first day I felt nothing and the same held true for the second day, the third, the fourth and so on. Until the end of the third week. I was normaly meditating when I remembered the heat that tended to spread inside of my chest. It was spontaneous, sometimes lasting for a few minutes and other times only for seconds. I tried to pry further into the matter and when I did I felt a sudden change in the atmosphere.


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    At first I thought it was the air that was fluctuating because of a slight breeze or the like, but I couldn''t even catch on the slightest sounds other than breathing and heartbeat. Then my skin began to prick slightly and the warmth in my chest began to travel down along my limbs.


    It felt as if something was exploding inside of me as the heat errupted. I openned my eyes and gasped for air only to be shocked even more. The air was dyed in all sorts of colors. They were burning and dancing in the air, even the furniture had bright colors on them.


    To be honest, I first thought I meditated myelf into some kind of fully baked state and was merely hallucinating but the moment when my concentration waned the colors receded and everything turned into its usual state. Large droplets of sweat trickled down my face as I breathed out haggardly. It took a few moments for me to catch my breath again.


    Without further notice my parents came barging in, breaking the door open with a powerful kick my father came in. He held onto a large warmace and my mother equipped with two daggers and a handful of throwing knifes stripped on her thighs, followed from behind. They eyed the room carefully and approached my cradle, weapons raised and ready to strike when needed. My mother looked at me, worry visible on her face. She looked my body up and down, her eyes told me she was looking for some kind of change, a wound or scratch.


    To reassure them that everything was alright I gave them a wide smile, something I never did before in this world. Both of them looked at me, my father sighed and put the mace down while my mother was less tense as well.


    My father nudged my mother while looking at me.


    "Little... one... adventurers... good!". Is what I understood. He probably thought my smile was directed towards their admittedly badass entrance and their cool weapons, making me want to become an adventurer even more than ever. Nah not cool at all, that is for kids. No, I really don''t wanna run around killing monsters while wielding a giant battle axe, who would want that? Pfft, laughable!


    My mother kissed me on the cheeks and both of them left my room. I was still confused. Why did they seem to be so alert? ''Did something happen outside?'', I began to wonder.


    Drawn by a feeling of absorbtion all over my body I shifted my attention to my inner workings, once again entering a zen like state. After weeks of doing nothing but meditating it became quite easy.


    I felt my body changing, greedily absorbing a foreign energy surrounding me. A searing pain sparked through my mind as my chest heaved up and down, my lungs worked overtime as they tried to keep up with my unstable puffs. Sweat once again formed on my face as it reddened through the extreme exertion.


    The energy flowed into my body, changing something deep within, expanding it, breaking its limits only to be raised up again. The flow of energy became even more forceful, shattering the internal barriers one by one. My mind was going crazy as the pain amplified by multiple times. Without teeth I tried to clench my jaw muscles as hard as possible, making the pain less unbearable.


    I willed the energy flow to stop, to retract from my body and it did. The pain stopped and I slowly openned my eyes. Nothing changed ¨Cat first¨C.


    From within I forced the energy to squeeze out of me, of whatever vessel contained it. Slowly the energy surfaced and the world was once again soaked in bright colors.


    I raised my arm up and touched a small wisp of red, willed the energy to enter it.


    BOOM!


    The red exploded into a fireball and burned my hand which was hastily pulled back. The small wisp of fire soon grew and the are surrounding it became colored in a dominant red. Fiery flames licked the air as the temperature rose.


    With panick filling my mind I willed the energy to come back and soon the fire dimmed down until it puffed out of existence with only a thin line of smoke remaining.


    Great concentration was needed to will the energy back into wherever it came from and with it the world returned to its former glance.


    I gazed at my small, chubby and burned hand. The pain was neglectable as it was only a slight burn.


    I couldn''t help but feel myself growing more excited. Whatever I did it was pretty close to, if not already, magic! Impatient I went to sleep, hoping for the new dawn to come sooner than the ones before.

 Chapter 004: So much to learn

    The next few days were rather uneventful. I experimented a bit with the foreign energy.


    The results were, hum... how should I say... magical? So, I was now able to manipulate the energy while maintaining a decent focus on it. And I found out a bit of the colors around me and how they interact with the energy, or let''s just say the ''mana''.


    There were many different colors such as red, deep-blue, cyan, dark green, brown, a blinding white and black. Some might have guessed already but those colors represented different elements. Red was naturally fire/heat and deep blue was water/liquid. Then things became somewhat difficult.


    Cyan was wind or rather air/gas magic. Dark green was wood and brown was dirt. White was light and black was darkness. Whenever I infused mana into them the colors would turn into their elements. A patch of dark color would change into shadows or a black floating orb.


    These patches of color were all there where their element was already present. Black was in the corner of the rooms while the white mingled around the ''lamp''. Red, blue and cyan were spread across the whole room while brown and dark green were close to the wooden furniture. Brown was only sparse but dirt always finds its way inside a house. (Sorry if this sounds racist.)


    The colors were always sallow before they came into contact with the mana.


    From my observations I could tell that mana was a control element to activate the ''colours''. Once they were activated I could feed them with more mana, making their territory expand and turning nearby colors into theirs, or move them into a different direction. Although it sounded easy I got a massive headache whenever I did it for to long.


    But because the already existing objects had no colours to them, the colours in the air had to represent something else than the real element. For example the wooden furniture wasn''t glowing dark green from itself, it was a faint layer atop of it. The wood ''radiated'' the ''elemental essence''.


    These pseudo elements assembled around their original element, their primal element, trying to turn into it or whatever. But maybe their only purpose was to be controlled by mana and they had nothing to do with the real elements, alas I had no way to prove that.


    It was still really fascinating to create fist sized balls of light, fire and wind. Happily I spent the next few weeks honing my control over mana and the ''elemental essence'' in the surroundings.


    There were other colors inbetween but those were to sparse and my mana didn''t seem to be able to activate them. There were also some colors that looked extremely pale, making me nearly confuse them with grey. Whatever I did I was not able to activate these colors. I guessed this meant that there existed ''affinities'' in this world. I put the thought to the side and played further with my magic.


    Four months later.


    So I am now able to understand most of the language. It is nothing like english or any european language I have ever heard. The Grammar was like nothing I have ''seen'' before.


    The position of your verb would indicate the tense. Beginning was past, the centre was present and the end was future. I did see a system in that but it still seemed dumb to a person from Earth, like me.


    Luckily I still hadn''t set foot into the written language. From the way my parents emphasized their words and how they sometimes had a questioning tone in the middle of the sentence I could guess that the syntax won''t be mercyful to me.


    I dreaded the moment were I had to learn on how to write!


    This though brought me to another problem. Either my parents were illiterate or we had no money, either way we had not one book in the house. Yes I found out as I decided to go on a crawling adventure.


    My parents were ecstatic. It took at least half an hour to free myself from the bearhug my father gave me and the loving pats I got from my mother. The ordeal left me dizzy and the crawling became even more arduous than it already was. The most I could crawl were a few tens of meters before I nearly fainted from exhaustion. My chubby arms were aching and my knees were already scratched from the wooden floor.


    Back to where I was. We had no books or any form of literature in the house and it made me depressed. With no way to increase my knowledge without exposing to my parents that I am some kind of super baby, how should I get my hands on information? I couldn''t just straight out ask them, this would take around 2 more years, to long to wait.


    On another note, I still can''t really describe this new world as I am constantly kept inside of our house and I only caught a few glimpses of the blue sky which ahd no differences to earth.


    My next months were spent with further augmenting manipulation of mana and some light workout to increase flexibility and stamina. When I got a really good grip on my mana I decided to gather a bit information about my parents. With the control of mana I could without actually looking differentiate what element I came in contact with. The grey colors still remained inactive.


    This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings.


    My father came in regularly, checking on my constitution and talking a bit with me. He would always pull faces and his giant santa beard and bald head made me laugh a couple of times. He would also talk about my mother and himself when they were still adventurers. ''YES ADVENTURERS!'', I screamed in my mind. But of course being an adventurer had its downsides.


    Before I hadn''t noticed but my father was actually missing a whole leg. It was replaced by what I could tell was a massive earth cylinder.


    He talked about how he lost it when he had protected my mother from a Mysalisk. From head to tail tip a five meters long, bipedal reptilian with feathered wings. They had high intelligence and often used makeshift weapons such as spears and swords with their sharp yet nimble claws. They are rather thin and can only barely take hits that is why they hunt in packs.


    My parents were on a subjugation mission, they had to slay the Mysalisks that settled inside a small forest. My mother was fighting valiantly against the horde of Mysalisks as one suddenly dashed from behind. Its jaw wide open and acidic saliva dripping on the ground.  My father intercepted it with the throw of his mace but at the same time a pair of Mysalisks bit down on his right leg. Their fangs dug as deep as to the bone and the bacteria and acid did the dirty work.


    The Mysalisks were slain but the leg had to be amputated before the constitution of my father worsened. Surprisingly my parents at that time were yet to be a couple. The adventurer comission randomly put them together as they were the only two that were close to the job''s location and had the right difficulty for them, and because they accepted the request of course.


    Driven by her guilt my mother stayed with my father and provided him with a decent amount of pampering. It took only a few naughty phrases and hearty laughs for my father to win my mother''s heart. My parents were still young at that time so only a few months before my birth did they decide to settle in a village whose name is still unknown to me.


    My eyes shone with respect for my father. His face reddened as he saw my innocent baby face smiling towards him with brilliant eyes. Of course I did not forget to use my mana on my father to see if anything different might occur.


    Because my parents probably detected the mana from a few months ago I tried to do it as subtle as possible.


    I slowly let the mana flood out of me, the atmosphere changed and I was once again bathed in hundreds of colors. My father on the other hand remained unchanged.


    I created thin threads of mana and slowly pushed them towards my father, upon contact I nearly jerked up in surprise.


    Around the chest area of my father a fiery red orb appeard. It was a magma red and had black streaks inbetween. The red bubbled like lava in a volcano and it made me feel an illusionary heat on my skin. The orb of magam had a thin thread that was running down to the leg of my father and turned into a deep brown. I could guess that the prosthesis was a magical one made by himself out of mana infused earth essence. Slackjawed I wondered how much energy it would take to keep this up for so long.


    After satisfying my curiosity I hurriedly retracted the mana, afraid of my father having any suspicions.


    By the way my father is called Baerhold and my mother is called Ish''ahri. The name of my mother seemed to be less ''human''; proven by her animalistic features, such as horns. And oh! Right, she got a tail as well. I couldn''t see it when she was lying in bed but she got a long copper scaled tail with a tip that looks like a cross. (Like that  ''-I-'')


    Many fantasy stories depict the relations between different species as hostile but in this case it seemed that the world was quite tolerant or my parents were simply abnormal.


    I couldn''t care less. Serious why all the racism, or in this case speciesism, in my opinion every being that falls into the category of ''living'' should be allowed to live without hordes of people hunting it down.


    In a few months I would be one year old and I still had a long way to go until I could venture the world. My first step was to explore the village and find suitable tutors for me. A guard that is willing to teach me hand-to-hand combat and the way on how to handle blunt, pierce and slash weapons would be nice. I also needed someone to teach me on how to fight with a bow and maybe make myself a crossbow. A way to identify herbs and ores would also prove useful and also the way on how to process them into useful pharmaceuticals and ingots.


    "Haaa...". Involuntary I let out a sigh, there was still so much to do, in fact, too much maybe.


    My mind was already tired enough by all the thinking and exhausting manipulation of mana; I leaned back in my craddle, stretchedmy tense body and embraced the well deserved sleep with open arms.

 Update Thread: Concerning Chapter 12 (SPOILER!)

    First I will answer some question and problems that surfaced after chapter 12.


    It was NOT Hyrion''s fault that the beast attacked the village. He couldn''t know about the teleportation magic. Life as a slave is for proud people like the Villagers worse than death.


    AND TO 100% I won''t make anyone rape little children. Abuse can be understood in many ways, it can be physical beatings and verbal abuse that influences the psyche. I called the fatso pedo guy because a commentator called him pedo guy, I just hadn''t the nerve to correct it and went with the flow because I never would have expected such a negative response.


    Why take his arm? (I haven''t seen this question come up but I think some of you might wonder.)


    Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road.


    For those of you that read ''The Alchemist'', can only recommend it, then you know... (SPOILER!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!)


    That Alvin lost his arm because he got to op. My MC is still a child and he is most definetly to op and I didn''t want to rewrite the fighting scenes and stuff, so I made him a cripple. The issue won''t be solved in just a handful of chapters, but... MAGIC, is all I say!


    I hope you guys don''t hate me to much for what I did in chapter 12 but I just had to put a bit of spice into my story!


    See ya next chapter! :D

 Chapter 005: Blood, sweat and Tears

    ''MHM! Look at those abs! Those pecs! These biceps! Dayum I am buff!''. I joked as I tensed my wobbly arms. The baby fat jiggled around like a sack of potatoes.


    I liked my body, it was so soft and squishy. Being a baby had its perks after all.


    But back to a more serious topic.


    Yesterday was my first birthday. I had no idea how my parents knew it, might have been a collective birthday for all newborn kids in the village, or they measured my age with something magical, I seriously had no idea and I doubted they had an accurate calendar.


    The brithday was nothing grand. The granny from day one came back and we ate and laughed, my parents and the elderly woman to be exact.


    I played with wooden blocks in a corner of the living room. Our house was small, it consisted only of one floor and had five rooms.


    One for myself, one for my parents, the living room, a small kitchen and a bathroom. Fire was used to heat the meals and heat the water for our crude bathtub. We had to flush with water buckets. Not the most hygienic method but it did its job.


    I eavesdropped on my parents and the old woman, her name was still unknown to me. Only fragments of their conversation reached my ears. The old woman was busy this last year with school work, I could guess she was some kind of teacher, and she would leave again in two days.


    From the way my parents spoke to the woman it was obvious that both of them respected her, they wanted her to stay longer and would provide her with all the necessities.


    The old woman declined and left our house.


    i was surprised, at first I thought she was my grandmother or at least related but that didn''t seem to be the case.


    But before she left In quickly tried to analyse her with my mana threads. I was frightened.


    The moment the threads touched her skin shivers ran down my spine. I couldn''t detect any sort of mana from within her but an overbearing feeling of power washed over my body. It felt as if I was drowing under masses of black waters. My body turned sluggish and my mind was in disarray.


    With heavy gasps I pulled the threads back, gazed at the old woman and I swear I could see her smiling towards me. I tried my best to play the role of the dumb baby, grinned like a moron and played with my blocks but ehr smile told me, ''she knew''.


    Only when she really left could I normally breath. I was just sitting there in the corner, my parents still talking, and thinking about what happened.


    There was no trace of mana in her, nothing, but she clearly felt what I did, she detected it. With a painful headache my parents carried me back to my craddle.


    Another year passed. The old woman did not come this time. And to be honest, I was relieved. My mana manipulation stagnated and I was seriously getting bored.


    To speed things up I decided to utter my first coherent sentences. Coherent but still uncomplete. My parents were jumping up in joy and hugged me, my poor spine nearly cracked.


    I tried to hint towards my parents about my future occupation by asking them about their adventures. Each day I would talk to them, ask about the world and their past lives.


    They seemed surprised at first but quickly accustomed themselves to their ingenious son.


    Whenever I had time I would ask my parents in an cutely innocent manner about their past adventures.


    My father would laugh hefty and soon talk himself into a trance like state. How he ventured into the Whiteback moutain range and has slain a group of Bickerwolves. Stout wolves with short limbs and white manes. They had powerful jaws and could crush skulls in seconds. Or how he was trapped inside of a Parachnea''s web and still fought the beast to a standstill until rescue came.


    To be honest I didn''t quite believe what he told me, but whatever.


    I also learned about the world. Elysium.


    From what my father told me it has at least two continents. Ishgar and Eribor. It was said that both of them were once a giant supercontinent with the name Kubriem. The continent was shattered in twine when the Netherlord and his armies fought against the combined might of the demon-, beast-, and humankin. the result was a stable relationship between the three races and the victory over the Netherlord Melahchor.


    My father was especially ecstatic over this event as it allowed him and my mother to marry, she was an Ashura from the demonkin. "War loving nomads that are not only passionate in war but also in love.". He said while winking. I had to surpress the urge to punch the bald man in the face but I bottled it up inside of me.


    In the past the three races were constantly at each others throats but once a foe emerged that forced them to work together they realized they weren''t so different from each other. Many suspect it was even the work of the Gods, a test for the denizens of Elysium.


    But now, centuries after the Netherlord''s fall the relationship became unstable again, the thing that bonded them ceased to exist and for that reason on a lone island in the midst of the two continents a academy was errected, Elysium academy. The most prestigious school of them all, only for those that show great promise and... have the money...


    The main reason was to build good relationships between the new generations of the three races but it degenerated into a ''who-has-the-biggest-cock'' competition between the three races, where the students had to partake in many tournaments to prove their worth and trump over the other two races.


    I didn''t really care and wanted to hear about things like magic but sadly it wasn''t his expertise.


    My mother would always chime in and tell father that he is exaggerating in his tales and he ended up more dead than alive after his journeys. I couldn''t help but laugh.


    I was already four when I made my first friends in the village. I tried to act a bit more like a looner as hanging around with small kids felt quite uncomfortable but the relentless assaults of cuteness from the small kids broke through my defenses.


    In the end I spent most of my time playing with the kids and making new friends.


    "HYRION! Catch!". A small red haired girl shouted.


    I jumped into the air, catched the crude clump of leather in mid-air and tumbled over the ground with a judo roll. I sprinted towards the line that was drawn into the ground 20 meters apart from me. With my legs aching I made one desperate dive and landed face first behind the line.


    "WOOOO HYRION!". A crowd of small kids cheered on me. Another kid on the sidelines drew a thin line on the ground, a score. It was 5 points for my and 3 points for the other team.


    What we played was a simple version of football. Each touchdown would be one point, passing was only allowed to the rear and once tackled and fixated on the ground the round would start over.


    If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.


    The ball was only a mass of leather hold together by strings but it worked fine. The kids loved to play football, it strengthened them and made fun as well as being a vent for childish anger.


    I walked back towards my team, wiping the dirt from my scratched chin with my sleeves and giving my team a dumb grin. The gril from before jumped towards me and I gave her a double high five.


    Her name was Lina, a smart little girl, 5 years old. Her blue eyes and contrasting red hair made her incredibly cute and appear innocent but the opposite was the case. She loved football and wrestling with the older boys and was extremely brutal and tomboyish, nevertheless for me she was smething akin to a small sister.


    "Lina calm down...". A shy boy answered while patting Lina''s head. It was her big brother, slim and a boy of few words. He had raven black hair but the same crystal blue eyes as Lina. He was seven this year and because of my own looner nature I mostly hung out with him. He was incredibly smart for his age, curious about nature and animals, their inner workings and general metabolism. For a child he was a genius.


    "Shut up Erik!". Lina retorted. Sadly Erik was often bullied by his own younger sister, but the sibling love between them was undoubtly there, they would do everything for each other even if it seemed different on the surface.


    My mother rushed towards the field. With elegant strides she made her way towards me.


    "Hyrion dear, you wanted to practice the bow didn''t you?". She asked with a bright smile.


    I pestered her for weeks that she should teach me simple archery but she always prohibited it, asying it was to dangerous for a child and whatnot. I clearly made my point clear that I was above average in every aspect compared to kids that were as old or older than me, yet she refused everytime!


    "Are you serious!?", I asked half ecstatic and half doubtfull.


    "Yes of course, I simply can''t stand your constant pestering anymore!", she replied with a smirk.


    "YAHOOOOOOOOOO!". I jumped into the embrace of my mother with open arms. "Let''s go!", I urged her.


    "Huh... alright, let''s go!", she replied and turned around.


    "Bye guys!". I bid goodbye to the children and ran behind my mother.


    "Bye Hyrion!", a chorus of high pitched voices resounded behind me.


    A few minutes later I stood on an empty field, trampled dirt for hundreds of meters. Around me were other people training, mostly 10 years of age +/- 2 years. My mother stood behind me, leather pants and a white vest clung tightly onto her body. A large wooden bow was straped on her back and a smaller version was in her hands.


    I looekd at her with greedy eyes, or rather the bow. She sighed and gave to bow to me while strapping a leather quiver on my back.


    I felt the rough grain of the wood and the abrasive bowstring with my frail fingers. It felt good the rough marterial on my hands, it was handmade and yet screamed ''High Quality!''. My mother was a guard and huntress for the small village Omir. The village was close to the east coast of Ishgar, situated in the kingdom Adrian, named after its founder.


    The village was flanked by a giant forest in the west, the Omir forest, and a few hundred kilometers east would be the Burning seas.


    Sometimes monsters came from the forest, searching for a safe shelter or fresh meat. For that reason the village was quite disciplined. From age eight upwards the children were trained in survival and close-quarters combat. I loved it as it meant that many villagers were adapt in fighting and could assist me in my purpose.


    Back to the training fields.


    A target made of hay was positioned fifty meters in front of me. I was a novice in archery but with the help of my mother and a mind that could easily implement words into actions it was quite easy. My mother was sometimes correcting my stance or grip on the bow but overall she had a satisfied grin on her face when I shoot the first arrow.


    The bowstring lashed forward, propelling the arrow with immense speed into the air. The wood uncocked and straightened. With a high pitched noise the arrow whistled through the air, in seconds it dug itself deep into the ground a few meters behind the target.


    I sighed dejectedly and my mother patted my shoulder.


    With her urging gaze I nocked the next arrow. My left arm held the bow''s frame while my right hand pulled the bowstring backwards. The fletching felt nice between my fingers. I breathed out and released the arrow. The wooden projectile few through the air, landing only two meters away from the target.


    I clicked my tongue and nocked the next arrow. I closed my eyes, breathed in and out, relaxed my mind. I shoot the next arrow. Another miss.


    I repeated the same process over and over, getting closer and closer with each shoot.


    My nerves were tensed and my body was tired but I didn''t give up.


    I nocked another arrow. Hurried and with pent up anger inside of me I released it. A sharp pain followed the whistling of the arrow. The tip cut straight through my index finger and red thick drops tainted the wood and ground. I clicked my tongue once again, the arrow missed... once again.


    I did it over and over again. The whole day I stood there, the arrows hit but I wasn''t satisfied. I practiced until the sun went down. My fingers were bleeding and my legs hurt from retrieving the arrows. The tips were already dull and the feather were notched. The blood on my fingers dried at some point but with every shoot a new layer of skin was ripped open, making way for more blood.


    Salty sweat flowed into my eyes and the stinging pain made me tear up. ''Nice!'', I thought as my vision became more blurred with each passing second.


    I nocked the last arrows for the day. Time slowed down, my exhausted mind was going into overdrive. My eyes fixated onto the target and my arms tensed up. I lited the bow up and shoot.


    ''Bullseye!'', I screamed in my mind as the arrow hit the center of the target. The next arrows followed behind, each of them making its way towards the porcupined center. Like homing missiles each hit exactly the center.


    I grinned satisfied and let the bow fall on the ground. My knees buckled and I fell back into the hard ground. I gazed at the orange sky and smiled to myself. ''Today was a good day.'', I thought as a broad silhouette leaned over me. Hidden behind a thick beard my father gave me a broad smile and lifted me over his shoulders.


    The soft tapping of his trod lulled me into a peaceful sleep.

 Chapter 006: Omen

    (Got a question: Do you like it when the story takes a dark turn or should I stay with the happy-go-lucky attitude? The choice is seriously up to you as both ways are to my liking but only one way can be taken. Oh the end of the chapter is written in third person so tell me how I did on that one. Thank you! :D)


    I am six already, but the light physical training and martial arts lessons packed a punch. My body is well trained for a six year old and a diet of fresh veggetables, fruit and organical meat made my height skyrocket. I aggrandize. I am mostly as tall as the average eight or nine year old.


    But it still felt good. I wasn''t fat or unfit in my past life and went to the gym regularly but this time I decided to live the life of a hunk.


    If I am already talking about my physique. It''s not that I am incredibly good looking with an adrogynous face, I have rather fierce features. A sharp chin, sword-like eyebrows and piercing green eyes that shine with odd intelligence made me look like a beast. My short dirty blonde hair was slicked back and fitted with my sun tanned body.


    Why I am tanned? Please think for yourself. Medieval times.... A village with crop fields.... A healthy boy that is bored because there isn''t even the slightest hint of technology traceable in this damned village! Put two and two together and you get the idea.


    Yes, I was incredibly bored and thus decided to help the other villagers with their fields. It made fun to be honest. To swing the hoe (heheheeehe) and push carts whilst the burning sun smites you wth its fiery rays. It was hard labour that made one sweat but I felt satisfied whenever I finished.


    Another asset was that the other children emulated me. they tried to impress their parents and started to work on the fields as well and on the rare occasions where we had free time we would play one of the few games I imported into this world. Football, basketball, soccer, mostly ball sports as you can already see. The ball was selfmade and for basketball we simply took turns in shooting hoops as the ball was to low of a quality to bounce upwards.


    With these simple games I became the favorite child amongst the adults, as I was keeping their kids busy, and amongst the other children as I was, well, keeping them busy.


    When the work on the fields was over I would practice archery and then light sword combat with Kiroor. He was a brawny Uruk. They were of the demon kin and had pale grey skin, a thick bone covering their chin and were mostly hairless except for a row of thick quills on their backs. Their faces had deep resemblances with those of your typical orcs but their eyes sufficed in displaying their true emotions.


    As opposed to his appearance he was gentle and the kids loved him. They would climb atop of his sturdy quills and swing like miniature tarzans.


    His eyes were always half closed in delight when he played with the kids or talked with the other villagers, his smile was a bit dumb but that only added to his charm.


    At first I thought he would be slowed down by his massive build but he wasn''t a sword wielder just for show. His movements were elegant and comformed somewhat fencing. He had his own favorite sword, a thick blackened blade with a hook at the front. The weapon seemed brutal but the execution of his style made it dance like a leaf in the wind. It was staggering.


    Today I was doing a light spar with him. I could see his movements, I could read them to some degree, but my body was to slow to react in time. I knew when he would make a feint but then it was already to late.


    Whilst training I silently cursed under my breath as I tapped the blunt sword on the ground, shacking a bit of the dirt and sprayed blood loose that was glued on the edge. Yes, I often bleeded as I forced Kiroor to seriously fight with me. It would impede my growth if I was handled with kid gloves.


    Instead of cutting in my flesh with his sword he punched me in the stomach whenever he breached my defenses. It was punishment for when my concentration was on its low.


    After being pummeled by Kiroor in the early morning I went towards the edges of the village. Slightly limping but I still made it.


    A human woman with taned skin and beautiful blonde hair that swayed in the midday sun stood at the small wooden gate. Two watchtowers at each corner, right now unmanned, stood rigidly like two guardians. The gate was slowly openned and I walked out of the village, the blonde woman beside me.


    Her name was Vanessa. A beauty with blue eyes and a well trained body. If I wasn''t in a child''s body I was sure my libido would go straight through the roof.


    Her hourglass figure was wrapped in thick leather garments, a grey shirt was covered by a brown vest. Her fierce eyes and the crimson lips overshone the sun.


    Vanessa only gave me a small nod and we both ventured into the nearby forest. Here she would teach me on how to place traps, tracking of wildlife and foraging. If she would only talk more than this training session would be much more enjoyable. Her mouth only openned to correct me or warn me from dangerous game.


    If I wouldn''t be so highly indulging myself in the unknown flora and fauna I would be seriously bored. First thing I noticed was the size of animals in general. Be it insects or even rodents they could all be gigantic in size. The air was fresh but I doubted that the oxygen component would be much higher than on earth. When I thought about it it was quite easy to determine what caused this growth difference. Simply, magic.


    I still hadn''t the chance to ask any of the villagers about magic as it would seem suspicsious and they are way smarter than one might thought at first. Their hunter life style gave them inborn insight.


    There was something that I was still clueless about in magic, or rather the mana that was surrounding us. Another thing that was nagging my mind was the stupid high strength of the villagers. If lightnovels weren''t complete bullshit than it meant there was a way to infuse mana with your body, permanent or temporary. Though I am digressing.


    Vanessa taught me how to build the simplest of traps from plant fibers and small branches. I even made my own Bear Grylls-style trap. One needed a flexible branch and smaller branches to spike the tip of the main branch. The branch was bound against a thick tree and the spiked head was tensed back. To prevent the head from snapping against the tree, another wooden stake was preventing the branch from snapping back from its position. The wooden stake was connected with a thread to the tree and whenever an animal would walk against the thread the wooden stake will be pushed out of place and the spiked branch would snap shut.


    This novel''s true home is a different platform. Support the author by finding it there.


    It was a deadly trap, even for humans if one made it in bigger dimensions.


    The trip into the forest took only a few hours and with battered breaths and weak legs I once again entered the village. Vanessa on the other hand had a small jump in her stride, she was full of vigor and left for her own acivities.


    With my lessons in sword fighting and survival over I stated the next one, when the sun was slowly fading. This last lesson was the one I dreaded the most. A spar with my father.


    Right now I was doing so in fact.


    Hyrion was standing opposite of his father, a wooden mace in his right and a thick metal shield in his left hand. His body was clad in thick leather armor with small weights attached to the sleeves and chest region, to simulate heavy armament. The training grounds were vacant except for this father and son duo.


    Sweat trickled down his forehead as he studied his fathers posture. The prosthetic leg was standing at the front, a wooden club in his dominant right hand was pointing at Hyrion. Another metal shield was in his left hand. Instead of light clay weights he had thick stonelabs stuck on his body. At his sleeves were two bells each as well as on his legs.


    With every movement the bells rustled and would warn Hyrion from an imminent attack. (Not the least bit copied from Bleach  :P)


    Hyrion''s hands trembled and he gulped loudly. His father was a monster, his physical strength was simply baffling and left Hyrion in the dust. He was sure the stone plates on his body felt like light weights for his father.


    Breaking the tension Hyrion dashed forward, putting all his hopes on his high agility for a surprise attack.


    Hyrion''s arm lashed through the wind like a whip, the club followed from behind. Like a chinese gong the club hit heavily on his fathers raised shield that seemingly appeared out of thin air. The vibration made Hyrion loosen his grip on his weapon. Baerhold smirked and greeted his son''s face with a love filled shield bash. The metal struck Hyrion''s face like a truck and made him fly backwards from the impact. The silent rustle of the bells were ridiculing his vain attempts in blocking.


    With a ringing in his ears Hyrion stood up from the ground, dusted his leather shorts of and spitted out a glob of blood. The red drop splashed heavily on the ground and marked Hyrion''s next dash.


    He rushed towards his father, the mace raised upwards. His father lightly shook his head and smirked once again.''What a stubborn fellow'', he thought and brought his own mace into position.


    Hyrion could only smile as his reckless action made his father ease up and forfeit his defense. Hyrion opted for a crazy attack, one that no child would do.


    Before his mace was brought down like a meteor he took a big swing with his left arm. The shield in his hand shot forward.


    Surprised his father raised up his own shield and deflected the projectile. At the same time he kept his vision close to the ground, not giving Hyrion a chance to attack. But surprisingly he was already gone.


    His father thought he would go for a swing from below or attack his fragile kneecaps in hopes of robbing him off of his mobility, but instead Hyrion jumped with the same momentum as his shield flew towards his father, with his father eyeing the empty ground he had the perfect opportunity for a quick overhead swing.


    "WHAT?!", Hyrion exclaimed in surprise as his surprise attack was blocked by his father''s mace.


    "Nice try kiddo, but your gramps won''t be beaten so easily!", the middle aged man said. In a split second the shield that was wind up to his back was once again shooting towards Hyrion''s face. The shield connected with his lower jaw and pummeled him on the ground.


    CRACK!


    With an obnoxious noise Hyrion''s jaw dislocated and his limp body skid over the dry earth. His father hurried after him and raised up his unconscious body.


    His thick hands were placed on his son''s lower jaw and with a light tug the jaw was once again in place. His son was fine, except for the aching muscles, the bruised jaw, the bloody nose and a slightly sprained back that was caused by his rough landing. In modern Earth there would be heavy repercussions for such a treatment.


    The fainted Hyrion was once again carried over his father''s shoulder, an action that was common between the two. The night was falling in and Baerhold paced forward, slowly with regular steps, his back slowly fading from the training fields.


    Without anyone noticing a dark shadow danced at the margins of the fields, a gruesome, vile shadow. Black leather sucked the weak sun rays up, greedily. One with the night the shadow''s mighty paws clawed over the ground, creating deep cuts in the earth.


    Hot breaths escaped a dry, hoarse throat. Between serrated teeth a fuel odor wafted over the fields, threatening to suffocate everything within reach with its by death permeated smell. Black flews lifted and revealed a myriad of yellow fangs, as countless as the stars on the firmament. With a black and thick tongue the beast licked over its instruments of torture. Like a fat maggot the tongue wriggled over the plague-ridden teeth, a mix of viscous black saliva and mucus dripped on the ground. The resulting seething of the ground, a noise akin to the whailing of tormented souls, was drowned by the harmonic song of the cycadas. Finger thick holes pulsated on the monstrosities neck as the once pure air was sucked in by them. The demon grinned in delight, a cruel grin that was overflowing with a plethora of malice, and exhaled a dark miasma.


    It observed the village a few seconds more before its anticipating breaths dimmed down. In this peaceful night the beast turned its back towards the village, as if on cue the noise in the nearby forest died out as the abomination trotted ever so slowly into it. The king was once again in its domain.


    The viscious shadow, incarnation of death was still lurking in the darkness. Its scythe heavy, raised to the heavens and ready to strike... to claim its next victims when the moon was watching.


    Nobody knew it, but the village was soon to be painted red, if not a miracle happens.

 Chapter 007: Closer and closer he gets

    The night weighed heavy on Hyrion''s body. Nightmares of his past haunted him. He thought he put his past life behind but from time to time the memories came back. The faces of his loved ones, how they danced in the darkness, numbed his mind and chipped away his sanity.


    The moon this time loomed close over the small village, its crescent reminiscent of a glowing shiv.


    The body of the boy turned and bend in inhuman angles, his face was covered in sweat, contorted in pain and his eyes spun wildly under his heavy eyelids. The slatted frame of the bed cawed under the heavy pressure.


    With wild gasps the boy stood up, his body stiff and his eyes bloodshot. His small hands moved to his temples and he began rubbing.


    The boy moved his legs closer to his chest and hugged his knees. "Fuck, what is wrong with me?", the boy asked himself in English. Hyrion didn''t know but great change awaited him.


    A burning headache made the boy grimace as he stood up and walked out of the small house, or rather hobbled out of the house. His body tiptoed its way to the exit, silent without as much as a small creak of the wooden floor.


    The door swung open and Hyrion stood alone in the village, it was deep in the night and most lights were out by now. He bathed in the fresh wind, the chill felt good on his overheating skin. With little to no effort Hyrion deducted that a fever was approaching.


    His headache, his high temperature, the pain in his limbs - which could originate from his training as well -, all pointed towards a fever. At first Hyrion thought such things didn''t exist in a magical world, that people had to have higher resistances against such simple diseases. But he seemed to be wrong.


    He just stood there, a few steps in front of his house, the house of his family, his ''new'' family. Downcast he gazed at the soil under his bare feet. The cool earth felt good between his toes, it tickled and felt refreshening.


    A wisp of white vapor was exhaled by Hyrion before he turned around, to once again embrace sleep.


    (BUT, HAHAHA... NOPE!!! JK)


    But ,alas, another torrent of pain swamped over his body. The pain was more intense than before, as painful as his first days in this new world, it paralyzed his muscles with jolts of electricity.


    The pain mixed with his sombre memories and weighed heavily on his body. With exhausted breaths he fell to one knee and then on the second. His body fell to the side and jerked in sporadic intervals. The blood was drained from his face and his mouth felt dry.


    The pain turned unbearable, it made him think of the past. His mind surpressed the long forgotten pain but it was forcefully brought to the surface. Impaled, burned and bombed to shreds, the pain of his past life invaded him.


    With white fingers he tried to claw the pain out of his mind, scraping at his scalp and ripping open the skin. He wanted to howl in pain but his throat clenched and only a low gurgle escaped him.


    Fearing death Hyrion tried to crawl towards the door, only an arm''s reach apart it lampooned him for his inability. His slow crawl resulted in broken nails and bloody fingers. The dirt clustered together under his hands, testimony for his vain attempts to creep over the parched soil.


    In a fetal position he laid there, angst-ridden by the unknown changes.


    Like a glimmer of hope whispered steps sounded behind the door. "*Huff*, He- Help, So- one, HELP!", Hyrion wheezed.


    He felt his lungs collapsing in itself, and his organs started to fail. His heart palpitated and the strength in his limbs faded. The door slowly creaked open and revealed a fair maiden in a dark blue robe. Two ivory horns reflected the moonlight, - beautiful -. His mother gasped in shock as she saw her son groveling on the ground, his hands tainted red and his the light in his eyes slowly fading.


    She was shocked and at the same time a sudden light of insight shone in her eyes.


    Carefully she lifted the half-consciouss boy up and laid him on his bed. He moaned in pain but she simply ignored it and rumaged in a small backpack that stood in the kitchen. It was hidden inside of a wooden cabinet.


    Placing the bag once again inside the cupboard she returned to the spasming Hyrion. In her hands was a small metallic vial with a green liquid. It had a strong herbal scent that made ones nose ignite by the punch it had.


    She pulled out the cork of the vial and tipped the small bottle at Hyrion''s half parted lips. The liquid flowed inside of Hyrion''s throat and he avidly gulped it down, hooked on the soothing feeling that emanated from the liquid he sucked out every last drop of it.


    His complexion turned healthy again and his heaving chest relaxed. With his eyes already closed he drifted into sleep.


    Ish''ahri looked at her sons mutilated hands. They were bloody and scratched open. A slight mubmle later a white glow enveloped Hyrion''s hands. She nodded to herself and gave Hyrion a motherly gaze. "That should do.", she said.


    Turning around she exhaled in relief and went to sleep likewise.


    I woke up in my bed, drenched in smelly sweat and a dull headache throbing against my skull. It was dawn and from outside I could hear the busy tumult of the villagers.


    Faint memories of pain and hellish images surfaced in my hazed mind. I clasped the thin bedsheets, reassuring myself that everything was alright, that the nightmares didn''t exist. Yes, they were only mementos of a long-gone past.


    With unsteady legs I left the bed. My daily routine began.


    A heavy breakfast, meat, bread and eggs from wild geese-like animal that are bred in the village. they are bigger than Earth-geese and the teeth hidden in their beaks are longer as well. In all honesty, these birds could bite your finger of if they wanted.


    After taking the delicious meal, and thanking my mother for its preparation, I left for the fields. A shovel that has seen better days already was equipped like a sword on my hip. With spring in its full glory we had to dig the fields over. With familiar movements I hacked at the earth, the rain deprived soil cracked rather than be dug over. Rain this year was sparse.


    When the sun was fully displayed over the horizon I went back to my home. I changed the shovel for a thick axe.


    At the outskirts of the forest were already a few farmers mowing the trees down. It seemed simple when one watched them, but in truth it was only their high physical strength that made them cut trough the thick oaks with ease.


    The Omir forest was, as told already, close to the lone village. It provided excellent firewood.


    I moved to one of the slimer trees, felt the gnarled bark and the faint pulse of elemental essence from it. I neglected mana manipulation as of late, I hadn''t any use for it, except from probing the villagers and common wildlife.


    After the hundredth time of being surprised the excitement slowly calms down. All villagers had, what I thought, exceptionally dense and vivid mana. Their mana nearly fizzed out of their ''cores'', the orb of mana that the villagers have situated right inside their chests.


    Their colors varied from person to person. For example my mother had a titanium grey-silver orb with yellow streks of lightning. I could only guess what kind of element she could have under her control.


    The other villagers didn''t dissapoint either. Some even had abstract colors of pink, purple or neon green. Though those abstract colors were always slightly see through. The thought intrigued me of new elements in this world filled with magic, maybe it was even of the mystical psyche series. An element that isn''t really an element but more of being able to control minds, reanimate the dead, place curses and such.


    Shivers of excitement ran down my spine as I though of such impossibilities.


    The cleaving of my axe pulled me back into reality. A deep cut was made in the tree trunk, it bled thick orange resin.


    I took another swing and my axe drew strings of orange gum behind it.


    BAM!


    My axe hit the tree once again, my full body was put behind this seemingly ordinary slash. But this was not the case. I tried to implement as much moves from my combat training into my ordinary lifestyle. It helped keeping the techniques up to date and decreased the time I spent doing menial tasks.


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    Although it wasn''t a technique but rather the fundamentals of a heavy swing, to put your body behind it, rotate with the axehead.


    It still helped a lot though


    The axe cleanly cut into the cleft left behind by the first swing. Another three hits later the tree fell over, a loud thud echoed through the forest and startled the critters in the distance.


    A flock of Bluecrows left the treetops in a hurry, afraid of a potential predator. The sight was something to behold as I gazed at the tens of blue arrows shooting into the sky. I admired the beautiful, unnaturaly beautiful, scenery for a while before I went back to work. A few trees had yet to be felled.


    I went down the forest perimeter, greeted passerby villagers and the rare children that could already handle the hard work.


    In the corner of my eyes I spotted an unobstrusive glade, it was a straight path right into a small clearing. I didn''t know what overcame me but I felt myself drowning in the peaceful imagery of this inconspicuous break. It felt so peaceful, so pure and devoid of human alteration, as though it stood there since time immemorial. The sun shone down on lush green grass and the treetops leaned themselves over it to spare a bit of their shadow for exhausted travelers.


    "Hyrioooon! You wanna play with us?", a sudden scream of a certain red-haired girl startled me awake.


    CRACK!


    I could hear a sound akin to a mirror breaking from my side. I turned around, to the small glade. The glade vanished and in its place was a dark path framed by vile thorns. A dark fog seeped out from the abyssal trail. The miasma''s stench was piercing my nose and with a disgusted face I turned away from the bizarre spectacle. At that time I didn''t mind it at all, such a quirky spectacle. If only I had known... then... then... things might have gone different. I was naive, thought it was just a crazy delusion of an equally crazy mind in an even crazier world. Now I can only repent... and hope.


    I turned towards the chirping voice. Lina stood there, hands on her hips and her chin pointing up, as of late she always had this arrogant stance. Well she deserved it, after all she won the soccer ''tournament''.


    A light giggle escaped me as I walked towards this adorable little girl.


    "HAH!", I jerked up and reflexively turned around. Cold sweat formed on my back, my eyes turned into slits and stress made my heart pump. A piercing gaze had me fixated on the spot but only a second later it dissapeared.


    Lina gave me a quizzical look and tapped lightly on my shoulder. "Hyrion what''s wrong?", her startled voice made me loosen my stance, unconsciously I had the axe raised and ready to strike.


    I turned towards Lina and saw her eyes getting watery, my actions have frightened her more than I could have imagined.


    Dissapointed by myself, that I could make such a young girl cry, I patted her head. Her silky hair felt smooth between my callused fingers. I grinned as I caressed her small head further.


    Seeing my delighted smile, Lina smiled as well. It was a carefree and joyous smile inherent only in kids.


    "Wait a bit, I still have work to do. I will join you later then.", I replied to Lina.


    She nodded her head vigorously. "I ask Erik if he wants to play as well.", Lina said while waving and running back to the village.


    The afternoon was spent by me induldging myslef in another round of Whac-A-Hyrion. I got less and less beatings as my body grew and my techniques refined. The beatings got lesser, but harsher in its stead.


    Beaten black and blue I was once again on the fields, playing with the kids. Today the villagers seemed more energetic than usual and I played with the kids till late at night.


    There was even a small campfire errected for us. I told them about films from earth, revising it into a more fairytale like manner. The heroic Avengers, The Guardians of the Nightsky. I really found it quite hilarious to blatantly alter the plots and the kids made eyes as if I told them the greatest of all tales.


    I also told them about the shepherd boy and the wolf, indoctrinating the old proverb: A liar will not be believed even when he speaks the truth.


    At the end of the night I finished with the tale of Red Riding Hood. About the wolf that stalked the helpless girl, how it tried to deceive Little Red and then felt retribution at the hands of the Hunter. I also remembered a post on a frequented website. Of a girl running from the wolf through the woods every night, how she reaches her home, her safe bed and the wolf stands there, behind her window. He begins to talk. The little girl has to flee every night from the wolf but the wolf, the wolf only needs one night, if in one night he catches her it would be over. Chills ran down my spine as I remembered this peculiar memory.


    With goosebumps I went back home. The campfire died and darkness descended upon the small village. I stood in my room, thinking vain thoughts. The inexplicable feeling of dread flooded my body, my heart began to race and with a bad feeling in my guts I went to sleep.


    Thinking back it was quite ironic. The wolf had longst set its edacious sight on our small village, but was there a hunter to punish the beast? Was there a way to flee? And if, for how long... for how long should we flee from the wolf?


    -----------This is a line-----------


    In a brilliant castle, eclipsing the sordid mansions around it, an old man was pacing around. In a dark cellar he stood, his old face wrinkled and beet red in anger. His crooked nose and the viperous eyes exposed the maniacal persona within. The room was devoid of any other signs of life, only a solid wooden desk, a chair and a silver chandelier that bathed the room in a dim light.


    A knock sounded from behind a massive wooden door.


    "Enter.", the old man commanded in a husky voice.


    The heavy door grinded over the floor, with a strained expression the man behind finally openned the door completely and entered. Light sweat formed on his face as the chubby man entered. His well nourished paunch, beetled over his extravagant waistbelt and his equally expenssive cullotes.


    The man''s chest heaved up and down. He took out an ornament piece of cloth from within his dark mantle. The cloth asorbed his sweat and his face turned less disgusted about his own trickling grease.


    Wet strands of brown hair glued on the fat man''s forehead, his fat lips openned like a fish on land and begged for air. The moustache of his moved with each of the pained and heavy breaths. His bulbous nose puffed hot squalls of air.


    The old man turned to his desk, pulled the chair and presented it the fat man.


    "Th-Thank you.", the man mumbled between forced gasps and sat his overweight torso onto the chair.


    The chair vented his pain by low creaks and bending wood.


    "S-So when can *huff* we... *huff* When can we begin?", the porky man asked.


    Tauten his robe with his knotted fingers the old man whispered in delight. "Tomorrow... Tomorrow we shall burn the heretics.", he stated his ominous response matter of fact like, as if the burning of people was the most normal thing to do.


    "Good, good. But you know what you promised me right?", the fat man regained his composure and asked with crescent eyes.


    "Of course, now go!", the old man barked back.


    "Grevon my friend, isn''t this time for celebration?", the fat man asked Grevon, his eyes were delighted.


    "Finish the preparations, now!", Grevon shouted back, louder and more aggressive this time.


    The fat man only waved it off and slowly stood up from his chair. With slow strides he went back towards the door and gazed with horror at the set of stairs leading upwards. The fat man gulped and trotted his way to the surface.

 Chapter 008: The trial

    It was on one of those nights, when cold gales washed over the lands, when the snowless Winter came back for revenge and engulfed us in arctic winds.


    A full moon gazed at the village, bathing it in silvery light and turning the landscape into liquid metall.


    The shutters pounded against the few windows strewn in the village. Symphonic with the hymn of the wind they smashed again and again against wood and glass.


    With the noise of the cracking wood a pulsating headache made its way into my head. Each throb followed the rythmic crashing of the shutters, growing in intensity ever so slowly.


    The pain slowly radiated into my chest and if on cue a hearth of pain ignited deep inside me. It was pain on a whole nother level.


    It was physical at first but then it changed into an abstract pain of being incinerated from the inside out. It felt like my consciousness was being disintegrated. Like on an old, overheating cine projector my self became holey, and the fire was consuming more with each second.


    I felt my veins bulging out under my skin, thick worms that pulsated with my increasing heartbeat.


    But at the same time I felt a great force from within soothing the fire, smothering it. I recognized it as part of me, no, it was me; my own self. It was a bizarre occurence.


    The flames fought against my inner self but with each minute the flames grew tinier and my inner self grew stronger. It dominated, conquered the flames and when all the flames were swallowed up and I sighed inwardly in relief the aching in my head exploded.


    But it was not only pain, it was something else. Knowledge. Knowledge about ancient voices, their songs, their chants, beings that could only be described as Gods. Images of wastelands littered with corpses. Horned feinds rampaging on a killing spree and angelic creatures fighting them with weaponary of pure light, smiting the devils and vaporizing their corpses.


    "AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!", I screamed towards the heavens. My mind was being cleaved intwine by the knowledge and a vortex of pain flared around my body.


    BOOM!


    My parents came barging in, seeing my pained face howling against the sky. My fingers dug into the sheets and reached my own palms, my fingernails pierced the skin.


    "Guess it''s time then.", I heard my mother talking between the intervalls of my shrill cries.


    "But isn''t it to early?", my father asked.


    "Baer, our son is a prodigy after all. This time it should be alright.", my mother responded and grinned to my father.


    My father only nodded nervously and replied, "I hope he survives...".


    I watched them out of the corner of my eyes. She took out a small needle and pricked her index finger. A large drop of red blood oozed from the small puncture. Her ivory horns turned into a crimson red.


    Stepping closer to my body she forced my jaw ajar and with a quick movement she squeezed the red drop into my mouth. I could feel the blood, hot and tasting like copper. A feeling of ecstasy overcame me and my body quickly urged me for more, it combined with my flaring instincts and I felt myself being drawn into a state of frenzy.


    With horror I felt my body move on its own, towards my mother which had a pale complexion and was grabbed under her arms by my father. I could tell that I was releasing something that can only be described as bloodlust, it was a foreign emotion, feeling or sense for me, but I knew in that moment exactly what it was. I thirsted for carnage.


    My father leaned my mother against a wall and turned towards me. On all fours I crawled over the floor, my legs flexed, I wanted to pounce on my own father.


    I jumped through the air, my jaws openned inhumanly wide, the skin around my mouth lacerated and a sharp pain was discharged.


    In the midst of my jump my father suddenly vanished, not only a limb but his whole body vanished from sight. My blood red vision turned black and I fainted after a chop to my neck and crashed into the floor with the hit''s momentum.


    When my mind was thrown into an endless abyss I stood there. On a lone field, naked and defenseless.


    All around me were enormous trees, their barks black and boughs leafless. The ground was red and muddy and the sound of battle resonated from all around me.


    Metal clashing against metal and bones breaking.


    I looked around blankly, my chaotic emotions settled down and I was able to think clearly.


    The concept of genetic memories was already existent on Earth, be it in sci-fi fictions or fantasy novels, even in actual science it was debated.


    I could faintly guess that this was some sort of tribulation, a gauntlet I had to stand.


    The sound of battle grew louder and all around me the ground started to cave in or rise. Hundreds of gargantuan arms penetrated through the earth to lift out a giant of a monster.


    Lose flesh hung on the beasts body, the muscles were barely covered in rotting skin and twelve bony wings covered the already black sky.


    A demonic head with four fiery orbs as eyes stared right into me, trying to pierce my little body and engrave terror into my soul. But against the beasts expectations I just stood there, mouth agape and my eyes twinkling like stars. I was surprised and even quite frightened at first but seeing this gigantic undead monster just left me speechless. It looked so AWESOME!!!


    "Puny mortal, do you not fear?", the wyrm asked in a deep voice that made my organs shudder.


    "Tell me, of what should I be afraid? Why should you bring me here just to threaten, wound or even kill me?", I asked in a tone unbeffiting of a six years old.


    "HAA! You are right! So, little human tell me your name.", the beast asked, its growling an octave higher than before.


    "Hyrion is my name. Can you give me yours esteemed...?", I certainly did not think the beast would kill me after starting a conversation but I was still hesitant at how to address the God-like entity.


    "My name is Hyat, father of all demons and guardian of so much more. Do you know why you are here?", I was certain that the wyrm was now roaring in a much more amiable manner.


    "I guess a trial awaits me. Of what nature I am still unsure but can already guess what it might be."


    "HAHAHAAH! You are clever little boy! Come closer, your contender awaits.", the wyrm grumbled and suddenly its whole ribcage bursted open and revealed a dark hallway.


    My paralyzed body moved forward without hesitation and I entered the suspicious path.


    BOOM!


    The ''gate'' behind me closed, cutting out all sources of light an leaving me in the darkness.


    On cue hundreds of torches lit up at each side of the crimson carpeted hallway. The sound of my dirty feet was stiffled by the soft floor.


    I walked for hours until I reached a giant black door. At some point I suspected that the dragon tricked me and the endless hallway would go on forever, but it was probably made to exhaust the challenger.


    I laid my tiny hands on the giant door, making it swing open without even using any force.


    As I thought, a large arena was behind the obsidian door, the ground was trampled dirt and to spice up the ambiente a few remains of unknown creatures laid in the corners.


    I sighed, this was certainly to much of a video game for me right now.


    The moment I stepped in the doors behind me closed and warped out of existence, leaving me alone in a giant arena.


    Thunderous footsteps spunded through the arena as a mmetal gate opposite of me openned up.


    Clad in silver scales stood my adversary. It was hulking over two meters, had four limbs with sharp talons at the end, long carnassials grew directly out of its face rather than mouth, a large barbed tail slithered over the ground and four tattered wings were tucked against its back.


    The monster stared at me with its four red eyes.


    ''Holy fuck!'', I thought while staring at myself. I had nothing on me, no armor nor weapons. If I would at least be bigger and not a six year old than the situation wouldn''t look so grim.


    The creature cackled and its face twisted into an insidious grin. As if reading my thoughts the creatures hands blurred and suddenly all of them were armed with deadly weapons. A black scythe, black sword and a two handed giant warhammer, were in its giant hands.


    It stampeded over the ground while I was looking for a useable weapon. In a few seconds it traversed the whole length of the arena and appeared right infront of me.


    Facing the creatures bile I was frozen on the spot.


    The giant hammer crashed into my side with full power and I felt my organs and bones obliterating under the pressure. Like a ragdoll I was thrown over the ground, not even able to cough as my lungs were completely shattered.


    The pain was intense, it was the same pain I felt when I first died. Yes, the pain of death.


    But instead of dying I felt my organs rapidly recovering until they were completely intact, even my smashed heart simply started beating again.


    I weakly stood up only to be bissected by an obsidian sword. Gore painted the ground red and I felt my own organs slowly sloshing out of my body. I was dying once again.


    And like last time my body was quickly restored and this time it was the scythe that ended my life. A clean cut through my jugular and I slowly bled out.


    The pain did not subside neither did I grow stronger whenever I was killed. Thousands of times I felt the same pain I felt in the past. I remembered my family and how I lost them; my friends and how I lost them. The pain made me remember all of that each time.


    I tried to retaliate but the giant simply squashed me like a pesky fly.


    My rage boiled inside of me, that fucker killed me thousand of times and yet I couldn''t even put a scratch on him.


    With fury in my heart I roared. "I WILL FUCKING NUKE YOUR ASSHOLE YOU SON OF A BITCH!", right before I died again I tried to channel my mana in the atmosphere around us, there were no colours but I tried it anyways.


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    The moment my mana tried to leave my body it suddenly errupted and my body incinerated - literally - from the inside out.


    A giant explosion marked my own end. Alas my body was restored again and I was mowed down once more by the monstrosity.


    Before I was killed again I noticed that the explosion I caused had lightly damaged the beast as the left half of its face was burned black.


    "HAHAHAAHA! YOU FUCKER!", I screamed and overloaded the mana inside of me once again. Like firecrackers I exploded whenever I ''respawned'', the ground at that point was already a sea of red.


    The dumb creature grew infuriated with each time I blew up and ''cock-blocked'' it from mangling my body.


    The pain was as unbearable as the first time but whenever I thought about the damage I did to the monster I couldn''t stop myself.


    Like a lunatic I blew myself up every time my body was restored, the explosions were countless and the ground underneath me was cracked and ruptured.


    I didn''t even notice the beast that was laying on the ground, most part of its body pulverized adn withering in agony. Only after I didn''t even feel its enormous pressure on me did I stopped suicide bombing.


    With deep hatred in my eyes I gazed at the monster that was lying half dead on the ground. Its expression made me crack up.


    Its eyes were wanted mercy!


    I laughed like the maniac I turned into and gazed indifferently at the creature. Its body shrunk until it appeared like a defensless boy, bloody and eviscerated but still recognizable as a young boy.


    "Pl- Please have mercy... I-I-I was forced. Pleaseee...", the boy asked with teary eyes and a meek voice, all hints of malice vanished from his face.


    I looked at him warmly and gave him a reassuring smile. "Don''t worry boy.", I said while turning around.


    "Thank you.", the boy said while closing his eyes.


    "HAHAHHAHAHA! FUCK NO!", I screamed while heaving the massive scythe from the ground. Its obsidian edge glimmered crimson by the red blood.


    I walked over to the boy, "FUCK... YOU!" and hacked at his body. Each swing made his body spasm and a small fountain of blood errupt. Only when his body was limp on the ground, full of cuts and holes, smashed and burned, did I finally drop the scythe.


    The boy turned once again into the giant monster, only dead this time. "Guessed as much", I whispered while falling to the ground.


    The scenery changed and I stood once again in front of the giant wyrm.


    I was still exhausted and asked in a sleepy voice. "Did I succeed?". Because I was looking at the ground I couldn''t see the amused eyes of the wyrm. His face turned into a giant grin and the ground vibrated as he started laughing.


    "HAHAAHAHAHAAHAHAHAH! You know, killing wasn''t even the test! If you had simply embraced death all of this would be over! HAHAAHAHAHA! I like you boy, I really like you! AHAHAHHAHAHA!", Hyat roared.


    I only looked at him with a questioning gaze, ''WHAT?!'' was written all over my face.


    "Don''t stare at me like that. Who would even think it was possible to kill that warden of mine?! HAAHAHAHAHA! Didn''t you think it would be to hard for a boy to kill such a monstrosity? Didn''t you feel pain?!", Hyat asked in a curious tone.


    Anger stored up inside my body and uncounsciously leaked into my voice. "OF COURSE IT WAS PAINFUL YOU DIPSHIT ASS DRAGON! ''didn''t you feel pain?!'', WHAT IS THAT QUESTION? OF COURSE!!!!!!", I yelled at the god-like monster.


    Only a moment after I noticed my rude behaviour and dread manifested in my heart. ''Oh fucking shit, what did I do?!'', I asked myself as I gazed at the giant wyrm.


    Its eyes shone for a moment and the grin dissapeared. An oppressive aura enveloped the beast and his body slowly closed in on me. Its monstrous face was brought closer to mine, one of its eyes bigger than my body.


    The maw widened slightly and let me have insight into the abyss that is called its innards.


    The jaws widened and its breath became heavy...


    "HAHAAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAAHAH! You amuse me boy! Never has anyone spoke to me like that! AHAHAAHAH!", to my surprise the beast only laughed and made me deaf for a while.


    "I guess I should reward accordingly!", Hyat laughed and quickly disappeared into the ground.


    ''What?! Where is my re-! AHHHHHHHHHHHHH'', my thoughts were cut short as a giant bone pierced my right eye, straight through my brain.


    I fell to my knees while the bone dissolved and pain akin to being covered in highly potent acid spread over the right side of my face.


    "This is for screaming at me! HAHAAHAHAH!", I heard the old wyrms obnoxious laughter as I was once again falling into the abyss.


    "HAA!", I woke up from my bed. The night was still reigning over our small village.


    The crystaline lamp in my room turned on by the sudden motion and bathed the room in a warm white.


    With my hands supporting my body I stood up, only to feel a thick liquid spread over my bed.


    I rubbed my fingers together as I brough the liquid into my sight. It was a deep shade of red, thick and smelled like iron. It was unmistakeable blood.


    A shiver crawled over my back as I mechanically turned my head to the bed.


    A pool of blood drenched my bed in a crimson red and slowly dripped onto the ground. Dazed i stared at the mysterious puddle of red that somehow formed underneath me. I was startled out of my face as I felt a hot liquid dripping into my eye.


    Only then did my brain perceive a slight pain from my head.


    ''Did I bump somewhere?'', I asked myself as I followed the trail of blood that was dripping down my face right to my skalp.


    "Oh God! What is this?!", I exclaimed as I felt a thick pole like object sticking onto my head. It connected perfectly to my skull and was without a doubt, a horn.


    ''Oh for fucks sake! MOOOM!'', I screamed in my mind. There was only one person with horns in my family that I know of. And apparently I inherited the Ashura''s trademark.


    ''Wait no...'', with horror I felt around my spine only to sigh in relief. ''No tail! Good...''. The idea of a tail was certainly intriguing but to master control over a fifth limb would take massive amounts of time, time which was needed for other activities.


    The slight pain though was not only around my skalp but also around my face. My right eye and the rest of the right side of my face to be exact. I could still remember the deadly bone that was pierced through my head and could only sigh. I stood up and went towards the bathroom. I looked at the mirror and saw a boy with dirty blone hair and a dark expression. His face was handsome and wild and his body was ripped. On the right side of his head was an ominous looking horn. It was a deep brown and jagged unlike his mother''s smooth horns. Neither was it elegantly curved but more angular and even branched out into a smaller second horn at the side, making it look like a demonic antler.


    Another feature was a deep black tatoo running over the boy''s right eye to his cheek. It was tribal in nature and appeared a bit like his horn.


    When I felt around the tatoo I noticed that it wasn''t a tatoo but more of a black scar that grooved into my skin. My right eye stayed green but the cornea and iris were streaked in black snake-like lines.


    I do have to say I looked increadibly cool and badass. But it made me wonder why I only have one and my mother has two horns.


    Shurgging my shoulder I went back to my bed, pulled the sheets off and turned the mattress upside down. It was still blood soaked but still tolerable.


    I closed my eyes and listened to the sounds of the wind. The gale cried and lightning snaked through the skies, that is how it sounded.


    But something within told me that this was not quite right. Something was amiss.


    I groogily stood up and walked to the bedroom of my parents, expecting both of them cuddling with each other and sleeping peacefully. What I saw was a messy bed and open cabinets. Small weapons were strewn across the ground, knives, arrows, small axes and other projectiles. Even pieces of armor were lying on the ground.


    My heart suddenly shook as the cries of the ''wind'' intensified. No, this was not the wind singing its hymn, these were the cries of people!


    I grabbed one of the knives from the ground and sprinted towards the door. The well-known sound of battle resounded from outside.


    With trembling hands I grabbed the doorknob and pushed it open.


    An impossible hot gale invaded our small hut as I stepped outside.


    The village turned into a sea of fire.


    Villagers fought against people clad in blue and grotesque beasts alike. It was a scene of pure chaos and it made my heart sink.


    "HAHAHA! Got ya''. ''Nother of thes'' small midgets!", a man in blue trotted over to me. He had a red face ad his eyes were blood-shot. His body smelled of sweat, blood, piss and alcohol. His hauberk was covered in red and even the golden lion insignia on his blue platearmor was drenched red.


    "Godda ''ave fun with the lil'' demon!", he slurred while drawing his sword out of his scabbard. He walked unsteady towards me, the frail little boy, the frail little boy that he would decapitate.


    In this moment I roughly knew what was transpiring. And I was furious.


    Blood dripped from my hands as I gripped the dagger with all my might. My knuckles turned white and my face turned red in rage. My mind stopped working and my feral instincts took the reins over my body.


    I wanted to see blood.


    (For those, well, 90% of you that wanted a happy story, don''t worry. I won''t make it to dark and who knows what might happen in the next chapters? :D)


    (Enjoy this chapter, the prelude to a massacre!)

 Chapter 009: Midnight Madness

    The drunk man sneered at the young demonic boy.


    His brigade was dealing with the heavy armed villagers at the training fields while he hack and slashed those that were to old or to young.


    The job wasn''t the smoothest and many of his comrades were already felled by the absurdely strong villagers but the payment for the job was all the more worth it.


    5 Gold coins for every human that was captured and 50 gold for each demonic apparation that was ''cleansed''. With only 50 silver a lone soldier had enough money to enjoy one year of living in decent luxury. Maybe not in the empires grand capitals but in smaller kingdoms and towns it provided more than enough.


    He already celbrated with his comrades before the fight, either they die here or make a fortune, so there was no real problem in drinking his fill.


    As the soldier thought about all the whores he could taste, all the drinks he could drink and all the meals he could scarf after completing the mission, Hyrion just stared at him with a gaze full of blazing fury.


    In his half drunken state the soldier didn''t notice the slight vibrations in the air, the turbulence of elemental essence unconsciously created by the boy''s raging temper.


    With woobly legs the soldier made raised his sword up, smirked at the boy that was unmoving; by fear, the soldier presumed.


    His siver longsword soared through the air, with the strength of the drunken soldier it would take less than a moment for the boy to be rend asunder.


    Before the sword connected a large barrier of wind made the man loose his grip. The sword spun wildly in the air and flew a few meters to the side.


    "AHHHHHHHHKKK-!", the man screamed as spontaneous flames errupted around his whole body. The scream was cut short by a large chunk of earth encasing his head.


    Hyrion only grinned wickedly. He didn''t need to actually move his hands to finish him off but he liked it more dramatic in case someone was watching him.


    His right hand balled a fist, slowly. The stone around the man''s head suddenly started to compress.


    "AHHHHHH! AAAAAAHHHHHHHHHH!", pained screams errpted from underneath the dirt. "Ashir Hiroa Siri- AHHHH!", the man tried to chant but in the same moment large chunks of earth clogged his oesophagus and airway.


    With a sudden jerk the stone pulled together and squashed the man''s skull. Brain, bones, teeth, skin and muscles were all turned into a dense meat patty. The charred body fell to the ground as the stone rolled from the maxillary-less head. The lower jaw was smashed as well and the tongue was turned into a bloody pulp.


    Blood slowly trickled out from within the stone and the remains of the cropse''s head.


    A feeling of ecstasy and horror spread through Hyrion. ''It was so~ easy'', the boy thought amused. It took him a few seconds to rob a person of his life, it amused him and at the same time let him feel horror. He killed.


    Be it on Earth or in Elysium, it was his first kill but there were soon to come more and Hyrion steeled himself since long ago for such an event. Since coming to this world he knew he would have to kill eventually. Of course the frenzy was in right now made it easier but someday he had to do it anyway. Be it to protect those around him or simply kill those that wronged him.


    Nobody saw him killing, so what could happen? There were no laws, there was no investigator. He killed and that''s it. The morale of modern Earth can never be applied in such a harsh environment. Those that had strength were in the right, Hyrion had the strength to kill the man; he was in the right. There were no repercussions for him to be wary of.


    It enthralled him. To be able to kill when you have to and noone can dissuade you from your decision. It let humans experience their primal instincts once again and it was intoxicating.


    With his morales of modern earth quickly collapsing under mental trauma and simple discretionary he could enjoy his very own killing spree.


    With a childish grin plastered on Hyrion''s face and a bit of sweat on his forehead he moved on, searching for the next victims.


    It took only a few seconds when he saw the villagers fighting not only on the training grounds but also at the borders of the forest and around their own houses. Dark beasts slaughtered friends and foes alike, litereally, the beasts killed each other as well as the villagers -Hyrion''s friends- and the soldiers -Hyrion''s enemies-.


    They reminded Hyrion of panthers and wolves, just more slick and eyeless.


    He could in some way or another excuse the beasts. It was their instincts. Feast and grow stronger. But he couldn''t forgive the pathetic excuses of humans that were slaughtering his friends.


    With focused steps he bypassed a group of soldiers, hiding between houses or destroyed carts. They engaged with some of the villagers, Hyrion could see Vanessa and Lina and Erik''s mother, Elena. She was as good looking as all the other woman in the village. With finny ears and long, smooth red hair and her brilliant blue eyes she looked somehwat like a fantasy dragoness.


    They engaged against a whole squad of soldiers, thirty people in total, with only six people.


    Hyrion ddn''t care about the numeric advantage of the enemies and sneak attacked his first victim from behind.


    He sneaked behind an unsuspecting man and swiftly striked.


    His dagger lodged from the right, past the nose guard of the helmet, into the left eye of the man.


    The man squealed in pain as he was blinded on his left eye and tried to grab the foe that was clinging on his back.


    Hyrion reacted quick and used his own jagged horn to pierce the man''s head from behind. The horn penetrated the skull as if it was rubber and dug into the brain matter. At the same time Hyrion twisted the small dagger deeper in the eyesocket of the soldier.


    The man collapsed while screaming and shouting curses to Gods of unknown origin. Hyrion tumbled from the back of the man and attacked his next victim.


    His second kill only needed a few seconds so the soldier close to the man had barely time to react.


    Hyrion sprinted between his legs and rammed the dagger deep into the man''s groin. The intense pain hidnered the man from drawing his weapons or resisting in any form.


    Hyrion twisted the dagger upwards and lynched the man. With a quick and precise movement the man was gutted and bled out on the ground. The man whimpered, tears flowed from his closed eyes and his face lost all of its color.


    Like the maniac that he was Hyrion moaned in excitement as he killed his third victim. His mind has already given up in stopping him from his frenzy and was actually supporting him by coordinating his next moves more precisely than ever.


    the fourth man noticed Hyrion in time and drew his weapon, his expression was one of disgust and terror. General disgust about the demonic population and terror about the cruel way his comrades were slaughtered by a mere boy.


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    His instincts told the stillr ational man to run but the indoctrinated hate for the demon-kin made him hesitant.


    Using the openning that was created by the inner turmoil Hyrion dashed forward. Like a serpent he slithered over the ground and headbutted the man with extreme power, propelled by his own wind magic.


    His horn pierced straight through a lung and with delight Hyrion pulled it out in a full arc, sending blood everywhere.


    Hyrion wanted to be as cruel as possible in his killing and the ideas only pilled up.


    Using the windessence in the air the punctured lung was quickly filled with enormous amounts of wind. The other lung was pumped up afterwards until the chest of the man bursted apart in a deafening noise.


    Guts and gore covered Hyrion from head to toe and with a jubilant expression he walked to the next soldiers to reap their lives.


    The soldiers could only stare in terror at this epitome of carnage, a boy that mercilessly killed their comrades, without blinking or twitching. He killed them ruthlessly and they would be next. They were no mages or high class soldiers, they were even lower than ordinary infantary, they were racist peasants. How could they hope to defeat the devil Hyrion?


    Even without high mana perception they could see the fluctuations around Hyrion, how the space around him distorted, folded and collapsed in itself. Electrical currents magically appeared in thin air and vanished into the soldiers. It was a spectactle that was unknown in this world. Voiceless incantation. It is not that archmagi or sages could perform this, it was simply impossible. For denizens of Elysium.


    But Hyrion was another matter. He was a being not from this world. He was someone that defied the laws that the Highgods set into this universe. He was someone that could overthrow the system and today would be his debut. Today he would indulge himself in slaughter.


    A rain of fireballs, earthshards and windblades bombarded the poor soldiers. A sudden gale lifted twisted the magled corpses into the air and threw them across the battlefield. Blood rained from the heavens as the devil ascended on the earth.


    "AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!", a gutural roar errupted forth from Hyrion as the earth twisted underneath him. The ground ruptured and the houses collapsed in themselves. The scar on his face lit up, catalysed by Hyrion''s anger, fear and sadness of losing his second family.


    The black mark turned crimson and his brown horn changed to black. His bones dislocated out of places, making room for new ones. His body grew and another pair of limbs broke free from his ribcage. Fleshy wings sprouted from his back and a large white orb drew circles around his serrated horn.


    Purple veins buldged out from his skin and the ground around Hyrion ignited. Two souls, demon and human, fusioned with each other, antisymmetric in its origins yet complementing each other. They fought for supremacy and coalesced into each other. Boundaries were blurred and a new creation set foot on Elysium.


    A true beast awoke. Madness and chaos prevailed in this abomination and created something forbidden. But he was only the start.


    The four armed avatar of destruction gazed at the puny mortals infront of him. The villagers that saw the emerging devil kneeled in front of him. Their heads hung low and they showed obsequiousness to the paragon of their own ranks.


    The demon smiled warmly at the villagers but as its gaze landed on the soldiers a freezing wind billowed over the lands.


    In the tongue of the ancient Gods the demon invoked. "When the twelve wings darken the sky and the trumpets of victory chime over the lands, the ''One'' awakens and purges the wicked. Edicts of heaven."


    A blinding light enveloped the demon atop the hill and the faint vibration of trumpets shook the air. Man and beast alike starred in wonder at the demonic, yet celestial being. The vibrations turned into fissures in space, heaven and earth alike was torn apart.


    The heaven started to splitter and pieces of the nightsky fell onto the earth.


    Wings of gold casted a giant shadow over the soft meadows, a titanic figure of a man clad in white appeared at the sky. With golden eyes and a halo of blinding radiance he gazed at the mortals underneath him.


    With a warm smile the sun descended.


    "Haaaa! *pant* Haaa...! What was that?!", Hyrion asked himself as he stood there over the corpse of a soldier. His hand clenched the scar on his face as it pulsated in a vibrant red color. Beads of sweat trickled down his face as the terrifying illusion woke him from his frenzy.


    He gazed at the villagers, how they fought valiantly against the rest of the soldiers. Most of the soldiers were dead already and many troops deserted the battlefield, no longer wishing to engage in an impossible task.


    Elena sprinted towards Hyrion, hugged him tightly against her bossom, carefull of not hurting herself on the sharp horn.


    "Hyrion, why are you not with the other children? Why are you not with the village chief?!", she asked worriedly. Her gaze switched to his blood clad attire. Gore hung all over his small stature and his expression was terrified and tense.


    "Oh dear. Come here!", she said while hgging Hyrion tighter.


    His expression was still dark, the ominous vision he had felt so real.


    Suddenly his face turned even darker. ''The village chief! That''s where the first one came from!'', he could have deducted it easily hadn''t he been in a complete frenzy.


    He fred himself from Elena''s embrace, she was confused but when she saw his worried face she couldn''t help but feel worried herself.


    Hyrion sprinted back from where he came from, away from the ceasing battles and to the biggest house in the village. A dark ebony wood house with a dark brown brick roof.


    Infront of the house was a large mass of soldiers. Through the currents of mana in the air he could detect a handful of mages amongst the soldiers ranks and the overall armor and weaponry of this particular troop was exceedingly better than the equippement of the peasant soldiers.


    ''Fuck they distracted us!'', Hyrion screamed in his mind while Elena followed with a handful of other villagers.


    Vanessa gazed at the sixty or so troops with a grim expression while Elena was on the verge of tears. "Lina... Erik...", she silently mumbled.


    ''No way...'', Hyrion exclaimed.


    The fury in his eyes coupled with iron determination. He might be a child, but no one, no one shoudl even dare to fuck around with him or his friends. They will feel his wrath.

 Chapter 010: The Hunt is on

    I felt anger surging once again, but I forecfully surpressed it. The cool gale of the night helped in this incredibly difficult feat. I just wanted to mutilate the dirt in front of me. I wanted to tear their bodies apart, limb from limb, ravish their corpses and send their remains to their families.


    A small part of my mind was repulsed of my train of thought, but I couldn''t help myself.


    I lost my family once, and now it shall happen again? Don''t fuck with me!


    What a life would that be? I would better off be dead instead of endure the whole suffering. I did it once and it was not pleasant.


    The phalanx of enemy soldiers encircled the village chief''s house. Equipped with heavy plate armor, silver in colour with golden engravings, and marble white swords, they had an air of superiority in their stances.


    Their equippment spoke volumes about their fighting potential, yet they were fought to a standstill by a handful villagers.


    I was more than impressed by the ten or so villagers and how they repelled the onslaught of the paladin-like warriors.


    My pupils contracted as I saw a bald man parrying multiple sword slashes with a simple mace. ''FATHER!'', I shouted in my mind but remained calm on the outside.


    In between the soldiers I saw some mages, the air around them trembled as the elemental essence was controlled by their mana. A see through formation was being drawn in the sky, it radiated power.


    The prayer-like chant was drown by the sound of weapons clashing an bones breaking but I could still hear the hypnotizing rythm faintly in the air. They were preparing for a catastrophic magic.


    I tightened the grip on the bloody dagger, most of the soldiers were longst dead and only this elite corps remained. I felt a warm hand on my small shoulder, it was Elena. Worry and hatred turned her expression into an ugly mask. Her blue eyes shone with fury and her red hair stood on end.


    I could hear a slight growling from her as her lips revealed sharp fangs and slowly red scales emerged on her jade skin. I was somewhat taken aback by her transformation. The once gentle and calm Elena turned into a fierce warrioress.


    Her had clamped down hard on my shoulder and I did my best not to wince. "You stay here, those people are dangerous.", she said while reaching down her waist to pull two thick bowie knives. They looked heavy, short but thick with a sharp edge. The silver daggers were held by her sleek hands, their brutality contrasted to her gentle mannerism and yet she wielded them like an extension of her body


    Vanessa tensed the large bow in her hands, as a ranger she had excellent accuracy and eye sight. She nocked a finger thick arrow, dark brown wood and a black tip glimmered in the light of the inferno around us.


    Her blonde hair waved around her slim neck and sharp face. Like a hawk she set her eyes on the ''prey'' before her.


    The other villagers that were with us equipped their weapons as well, various polearms like halberds and glaives and other exotic weapons were tightly clenched by the fraught villagers.


    Defending in a narrow space and straight out fighting were not the same. We had a higher risk of dying since the knights could circle around us with their numbers. Unlike how they fought against the group with my father, where they couldn''t stay to close to each other without hitting their comrades.


    Elena''s gaze ordered me to stay put, to not engage in a fight as dangerous as this. Her eyes stil had worry for my well being in them, but for fucks sake I was an adult. Most likely I was older than some of the villagers here, so how could I just stay back while they sacrifice themselves?!


    I looked at their receding backs, only hundred or so meters from the enemy soldiers apart. Vanessa hid behind a house, the arrow longst ready to be shot. Elena and the other villagers had an stiffling aura floating around them, it rolled like tidal waves and made the air around them roar in agony.


    The first to strike was Vanessa. I could barely see her letting the arrow loose. With the speed rivaling that of a bullet train the arrow wheezed through the closed rank of soldiers and send ripples through the air. Quarter a breath later the arrow found its prey and literally bursted the head of an unsuspecting soldier apart.


    Blood and brain matter clung onto the nearby soldiers as one of their comrades had their head blasted into oblivion. The arrow did not stop there though.


    It send another soldier flying as the arrow collided with the heavy plate armor. The tip was glowing red and the sizzling of metal could be heard. Even the wooden shaft was smoking.


    Unbelieving I starred at Vanessa, in that moment her bow looked oppressive with its ebony frame and the silvery string, ''An instrument worthy for father death'', I thought. The bowstring was still hot and vibrating and Vanessa had to wait a few moments to nock the next arrow.


    ----------------


    A handful of soldiers turned around, following the trajectory of the lethal arrow. Elena greeted them with her two massive bowie knives.


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    One jabbed straight into the open mouth of a soldier, tearing flesh apart and only coming to an halt when it hit the spine. The dagger in her left was in a backhand grip, the blade smashed into the face of the same soldier that had its mouth cut open.


    His nose caved in and the jawbones cracked. With the force of the swing she pulled the other knife out. ''He had it coming, having no helmet on and all.'', some of the heavier armored knights thought.


    One of the soldiers with a heaume on drew his sword. With a heavy swing he went for a horizontal smash, but Elena blocked with both of her daggers and deflected it over her head, exposing the lesser guarded flank of the man. Like the fangs of a serpent the dagger slithered towards the area right beneath the ribs.


    The man grimaced under his helmet and wielded the sword with only one hand. His free hand grabbed onto the dagger with its iron gauntlet preventing injuries.


    At the same time he slashed diagonally from the top right to the bottom left, right past Elena''s raised right arm.


    Elena jumped back and her face twitched as the sword cut faintly into her skin. The leather vest was cleanly sliced through.


    "Hehehe! Come here little missy!", the man taunted.


    Elena''s expression remained unchanged and she engaged once again. Two other soldier stood ow side by side with the sword wielding man. It is not that Elena hadn''t noticed, she just tried to fool them.


    A low whistle, undistinguishable for humans sounded inside of Elena''s draconic ears. It was akin to a dog whistle abd because of the sound of battle it was only further drowned in the noise.


    Elena dashed forward to the man in the center, the man that wounded her. But instead of attacking him, she crouched down and dashed to the man on her left. At the same time another blurry arrow replaced Elena and shot straight through the man with the heaume.


    Leaving a dark after images in the air the arrow pulverized the man''s head and his body fell lifelessly to the ground. The open throat was singed black, sealing the blood inside.


    The man on the left stabbed with his sword at Elena, who was close to the ground, only to receive a kick at his chin. His brain mometarily fazed out as it repeatedly bounced against the inner skull.


    While the soldier was dazed his right kneecap was squashed through a few low kicks of Elena. With his balance disrupted the soldier fell to his side and at the same time a knife approached from the ground.


    Fearing his imminent doom the soldier tried to shift his weight and alter his fall but the knife was to fast. It stuck right into his right temple and fixed his head on the knife. With the residual force behind the slash the neck was craned to the side and bones popping could be heard.


    The third soldier tried to attack Elena, while she was distracted with the falling warrior, but was stopped by a large glaive piercing straight through his chest.


    A man in his mid-twenties, short brown hair and soft stubbles, heaved the man with his raw muscle strength into the air. The glaive ripped into the tendons of the soldier as he screamed like a pig. The man, Tarir - a human -, twisted the glaive in mid air. "HAAAAH!", with an explosive shout Tarir tensed his muscles and jerked the glaive to the skies. With a silver light it cleanly sliced the flesh apart.


    The massive glaive cut through the soldiers chest, platemail and all, and cleaved through his head. Blood poured out of the splitted man as he fell limp to the ground.


    Hyrion was still dumbfounded by the villagers and their incredible strength. Those three soldiers were defeated in seconds.


    Unconsciously Hyrion walked forward, following his instincts that perked up through the cries of death and battle. Only after a black arrow whirred past his face did he woke up from his stupor.


    Vanessa glared at him, ignoring the man that was shot to the ground by her arrow. Hyrion could only bite his lower lip and stare longingly at the battlefield. As a man and as an elder he could not leave his friends and family alone; not again.


    A thin line of blood trickled down his chin as he dashed frward with an explosive jump. The wind swirled around his feet and propelled him forward. Like a ghost he floated towards the battlefield. The scar in his face faintly trembling as the scent of bood became thicker.


    His morales long since withered away, endowing him with instincts that are vital for the survival in the world of the strong.


    Hyrion''s small body blinked with lightning speed towards the soldiers, the shouts of Vanessa unable to reach his ears. Like a mirage he spawned into existence right inside of the enemy lines. A cruel grin was on his face and the blood caked daggers of his demanded oblation. They shone red in the fractured moon light, fangs of a demon hungering for prey.


    Hyrion joined the fray and with it the hunt began!

 Chapter 011: Beginning of an End (Part 1)

    (Sorry that it''s late, exams started this week and they will continue for another two weeks. So don''t expect any daily chapters, mabye if I am in a good mood. Enjoy this chapter!)


    The moment I breached the encirclement of soldiers I started to regret. I was haughty and threw myself right into the lion''s den.


    I just stood there, rooted to the ground, surrounded by dozens of trained soldiers clad in high spec gear.


    As I felt the overbearing aura of the soldiers I could only facepalm in my mind. I could have wiped them out with simple magic, but my emotions led me to my demise instead. "Better make the best of the situation", I mumbled to myself.


    Not moving at all would pose no help, so I swiftly dashed through the ranks of knights.


    Giant bastard swords flashed before my eyes as the soldiers noticed the fickle silhouette that hid in their shadows and moved whenever a blind spot presented itself.


    Cold sweat flowed down my back as I sauntered through the alley of iron giants. Their sharp branches whipped through the air; crackling wind and earth splitting apart. Each movement was swift and filled with prudence. One hit would end my life, the blades were heavy and the soldiers had buffed bodies that would turn me into mincemeat.


    I felt the cold gale created by the swords brush past my back. The tearing air created a harmonous melody, a buzzing that was numbing my mind. I felt myself drawn into the swords, closer with each step. It felt exactly like those moments where you stand on a tall building or any kind of tall structure and think: ''What happens if I jump?'', you are getting drawn to the edge, peek over the handrail and look into the abyss. It calls you.


    Cries of the nether called to me, boomed inside my mind. I felt it move deeper into my ego, straggling inside and feasting on the gallimaufry that were my thoughts. Curiosity, a small seed, grew wider, surpressing the tingling sensation of danger my mind was radiating. The silver crescents looked so welcoming and a feeling of weightlessness overcame me. I wanted to fall, into the shivs, glowing silver and lulling me in with their songs.


    The pull of the swords was strong, my agonized mind started to spun wild thoughts. ''Maybe its a dream? Maybe I will go back once I die?'', but a part of my subconsciousnes new, this is a lie. Like a thunderclap a sword cut into my cheek, the red liquid crawled out of the wound, the tasty pain jogged me awake. Reason poured into my mind. If I die here I wouldn''t just simply die. I would leave behind my SECOND family. My SECOND chance to do it better. Maybe there were other people that had this privilege, I don''t know. But I would certainly not forfeit my second life.


    With deftness I twisted my body around the sharp blades, a small margin of space seperating me from the cold steel. A thin strand of red floated in the air, before it splashed on the ground.


    Throughout the fight I started to notice slight changes, changes concerning my life. Maybe it was the atmosphere created by the howling swords, the grinding of armor against armor, maybe it was the closing sense of death whenever I approached the blades. But I started to hang dearly on my life.


    I never showed much emotion towards my parents, yes, not simply the ''parents'' of ''this world''. No, they are now my parents, they always were but I was an ignorant fool that simply wallowed in self-pity. The children that enraptured my heart, the villagers that cared for my well-being. I  simply shrugged it off, thought I was different than them.


    It was hilarious how true it is. You only care about the things you lost. Once they are gone you realize how much they meant to you. And I for once thought: ''No! I won''t lose them!''.


    Determination brimmed forth from my small body. I was resolute, I wouldn''t let any more harm befall those close to me. I. WOULD. NOT!


    Tersely I gazed at my lone dagger. It was crude iron, but smithed with heart. Ancient scratches covered the dagger and each of them contained books worth of history. And at the end of the day another mark would proudly cover this dagger.


    Its crusty surface smiled warmly at me. The slim hilt was tender, thin leather strips wrapped around a piece of iron, enchanting my soul.


    I felt a grin spreading from ear to ear, filled with deviousness and excitation. The battered dagger was tightly held by my hands, it was a part of me. My fingers pricked and my eyes dilated, my muscles jerked and the hair on my neck bristled.


    A handful of metallic giants surrounded me, gaps closed, shields raised and swords drawn. A ring of silver fire closed off the distant shouts, impossible to penetrate for me and yet I felt this unique tremble, this slight tingle in the back of your head, the thrill. Adrenaline swamped my system, my to young body, my to old mind. I just wanted to see the end of it and so I raised the dagger high.


    I felt the heavy gazes of the knights on me, but my eyes stayed unwavered, my heart was serene. Their gazes changed, from incredulousness and disdain to respect. Yes, now I stood on the same level as them.


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    My frail body leaned forward -feeling the rumbbling of mother earth -, my breath swirled up small dirt particles on the ground. I exhaled. "Huuuuuuuhh....". The knights tensed, time slowed down.


    My knees buckled, tendons and muscles tautened. I felt my bones screech under the immense pressure.


    Before my face hit the ground I kicked off, the new world in itself, the mana, helping me. Air condensed under my feet, heat build up at my arms, the earth groanned as it cringed under my will.


    BOOOM!


    My power exploded forth, I could taste the blood in the air.


    -------------------------------------


    Vanessa mumbled a short chant and nocked the next arrow. Her body leaned onto the wooden crates, one end of the bow dug into the earth.


    Her breathing was calm, each shot flitted as fast as lightning through the rows of knights. She couldn''t stop the young boy, Hyrion, from engaging with the soldiers.


    Her emotionless face had a small smile on it. The boy''s gaze was always stoic, but today... today it had a ramping inferno blazing in it. It ranged from fear, hate and grief to happiness and sheer madness. He was unique.


    His demeanour was, brusque and clinical. She felt he didn''t give two shits about them at all. Apart from a bit gratitude in his gaze there was nothing. And now he fought fiercly for his family, his friends. It made his previous attitude seem like a lie. Vanessa was still worried though.


    Not about his situation, she knew he would be alright, but exactly this peculiar thought. He was so completely different from children his age, even the older ones. His young eyes shone with unspoken intelligence and gazed more than once at her with woolen lust. He seemed so mature. So strong. And... Reliable. Otherworldly was another way to describe him.


    Vanessa only sighed. ''That boy is just so...''. She straighted her back, shoot another arrow; another soldier down. ''So, different.''


    Her stock of arrows was rapidly dwindling, her body ached a bit from standing still the whole time.


    She lolled and fastened the bow once again on her back. Her hands moved along her hips and grabbed on grey hilts. A longsword and a copper kris in each hand. Her leather boots created thunks as she marched closer to the battlefield.


    Her smaragd eyes darted back and forth, between soldier and soldier, analyzing their strengths and weaknesses. A short limp, a slight jerk when the left arm moved, a twitch in the eyes. Nothing could escape her senses.


    With short steps she accelerated into a sprint. Using speed as means to create raw power. She caught a glimpse of the boy. His smile full of sharp teeth. The eyes that burned with ardor. The small body that stood tall in front of the iron knights. His atmosphere that told tales of unimaginable magnitude, a posture that would tower over Gods.


    Vanessa giggled cutesy and disappeared in a wall of moving iron.


    CRACK!


    A rooftop slowly crumbled into dust. Massive claws pierced through the simple stone. Black like a void, they cleaved the porous marterial into rubble.


    Grotesque fangs flickered in the moonlight. Menacing, insidious, jagged daggers that would bore a hole throught steel, carried a broken, demonic grin.


    Skin cracked by maggots and disease trembled as the excitement in the beast grew. Its lust festered through the panic ridden cries, the smears of red staining the ground and the sweet smell of blood permeating the air.


    It gulped audibly as it took a relishing breath of the sullied air. Cut, burned, crushed flesh; it was heaven for the monster.


    A low wimper escaped the beast as it once again sniffed the stench of death. Its whole body shuddered as the formless head picked up traces of fresh spilled blood, and it was close.


    The beast imagined the delicious corpses of the small insects it would crush, a wave of pleasure shot through the beast. With a low profile it moved to the ground, Each of its six limbs caved in the soil.


    A small puddle of blood obstructed its way. A headless corpse, crushed by a stone, laid inside the puddle.


    The creature stopped for a moment, moved forward and stopped once again. It jumped back, inside the puddle and wallowed in the mixture of brain matter and blood.


    A fat tongue rolled out of the creature''s gaping maw. Sentient and moving on its own it crawled towards the corpse. The acidic liquid burned the muscle and skin tissue of the dead body. The maggot squirmed inside of the remains of what was once human and enjoyed the taste unmitigated.


    Its small snack was all but eaten to the last strands of hair. Satisfied the creature stood up again. Its body still twitching from time to time whenever it thought about its prey.


    Its maw let loose a cackle of infernal origin. The yellow teeth and black breath polluted the earth. Rattling in anticipation it moved its detestable body into a dash.

 Chapter 012: Beginning of an End (Part 2) + Epilogue

    (So this one is a bit longer and probably anticlimatic for some of you guys. I went with instead of ruining the life of his family, why not ruin his life, once again, and make the fate of his family uncertain?! Great choice am I right? Please don''t beat me when you finished reading! This chapter marks the end for what I''d like to call the ''Introduction arc'', next will be...who knows what.


    Enjoy! :D )


    BAAAM!


    Hyrion crashed straight into the first soldier.


    His fist moved as fast as lightnng and at the same time a pillar of earth errupted at his side. It followed the same path as his blurring arm and connected square with the knight.


    The silver armor of the knight flashed in a bright skyblue, its light radiated in waves and each pulse made the earth crumble. Desperately the pillar of earth was rebuild with mana but each time the spear of earth reached the armor it disintegrated to dust and the mana dispersed into thin air.


    Hyrion knew clearly that a simple punch wouldn''t be able to damage the armor donning the knights. But his magic, his trump, was unexpectedly negated.


    Gnashing his teeth Hyrion followed through with the punch. There was the off chance that the armor was less durable than it looked, alas it wasn''t true.


    DOOONG!


    Like a massive club Hyrion''s fist connected with the armor and made a fierce gong errupt, testifying for the raw power contained in Hyrion''s small body.


    The knight staggered a few steps back but immediately cut down with his massve bastard sword. The air was rend apart as the sharp iron cleaved straight for Hyrion''s head.


    Hyrion graced the knight with a stern flash. You think you got me, Hyrion''s eyes booed, think twice.


    His body twisted sideways, along the thin but lethal blade, he spun and used the momentum for a devasting blow to the knights jaw.


    With blazing eyes, shining under the visor, the knight stepped backwards and changed his vertical slash to a horizontal one. The blade scurried through the air, at the same height as Hyrion''s hip. It was a slash meant to sever the opponent apart.


    Hyrion glanced for a split second at the incoming blade, tapped his left foot on the ground, jumped into the air, spun with the force behind his punch, turned his body in mid air over the gleaming sword and kicked with his left heel against the knight''s head.


    The man could not react as the booted heel came into his view, he stood safe out of the range of Hyrion''s punch but not his kicks.


    Brushing lightly against his leather garments the blade passed below Hyrion, leaving only a silver line in the air.


    CRACK!


    The kinght''s head cocked back, splintered teeth and a spoonful of blood errupted forth from his mouth. Iron splitters from the helmet pierced his cheek, mutilated his face. His body tottered back until he tripped over his own feet and fell bottom first on the hard ground. His eyes rolled up and his mouth started to froth.


    Hyrion breathed heavily and wiped the sweat from his eyebrows. The first foe was down. His small frame turned to the crowd of stupefied knights. In no way did they stood still to watch, the exchange of blows was simply too fast for them to act accordingly.


    Eyes brimming with resolve and hate glowed menacingly at the knights. The smaragd green was filled with poison and ignited by flames of pain and wrath. It was a beacon of destruction, bathing the knights in its deathly glory.


    The knights gulped heavily but their stance did not falter. They were undoubtly strong and with their numbers winning was unquestionable... yet their hearts felt heavy and their minds whispered in low voices ''flee'' and ''run''. Waving it off as a remnant of former guilt, guilt about their systematic mass slaughter of the demonkin, they drew their swords, readied their shields and steadied their determination.


    Hyrion felt the earth crackle under his boots, his thewed legs tensed and bend, like a predator he readied his stance and prepared to pounce once again.


    With a snap he made walls of fire errupt from the ground, robbing the knights of their vision as the infernal circle danced around them.


    He could somehwat guess what property the knights'' armors had, it negated his mana, or made it disperse, one of the two.


    The liquid fire seethed in the air, dazzled the knights with its vermillion shine. Their shadows abstracted and danced with the rythm of the fire. With its steady flicker and the absorbing red luster the knights felt themselves drawn into it. The fire blended into the burning village, emphasized by hundreds of cries and the crisp sound of burning flesh, and hypnotized them, deboned them of their self. The effect was somewhat too good, sadly.


    One of the knights tried to grasp the vertiginous fire, he felt his head turn cloudy from the magnificence resulting in him being unable to pull back. His foolish action that could have cost his arm was stayed unpunished, on the contrary. Because the magical firewall touched his armor it instantly puffed out of existence and with it the stunning beauty of this magical phenomenon.


    In the midst of the fire was a crouching devil.


    The knights shock their heads and blinked with their heavy eyelids. The devil was still there, but now he held a thick dagger in his hand.


    Their minds were slowly readjusting themselves once again and they remembered why they were here in the first place. To lay waste to the village that is conspiracing with the demons. Their orders were absolute and it fit well with their speciesism.


    They were wrothed about the fact that a simple demon child tricked a dozen knights, it made them irascible and rash. With red faces they engaged on the small child, no shame in their action.


    Hyrion only gave a small nod and dashed madly towards the knights. With immense deftness, he danced around hundreds of swords, they fluttered like iron leaves in the wind and yet could not reach his body. His small physique was too nimble. ''A spectral'', the knights thought as the boy carried out elusive movements. They could even swear that mother nature was supporting him in his very actions.


    A short bump from the earth, a sudden gale with unknown origins, yeah; sometimes even a short wisp of light that obstructed the knights'' visions, barely bigger than a firefly it still blinded their eyes. It was just unnatural how mother earth seemed to favor the boy.


    Hyrion''s face was serene as he slashed for the gaps in the knights'' armor, evaded their deadly blades like an adroit monkey and parried those that couldn''t be avoided; but in fact his mind and heart were racing.


    His mana reserves were dwindling at a rapid pace brought by his unrestrained use of magic. He needed a way to end his opponents, fast.


    Rummaging in his memories Hyrion''s mind was completely preoccupied in coming up with a way out of this pickle. With his attention shifted a lone sword cut deep into his shoulder. The weght behind the slash nearly pulled Hyrion to the ground but he was quickwitted enough to jump back, thwarting his arm from being cut off.


    A thin line of red floated in the air for a second and heavily splashed on the ground, leaving behind a crimson stain. The knight''s eyes reeled between his sword, the blood on the ground and the deep gash on Hyrion''s shoulder. Incredibility was written all over his face but was hastily replaced by a thriumphant and solemn smile.


    The achievement of cutting this more spectral than humanoid child was rushing to his head, it was childish in Hyrion''s eyes.


    Hyrion floundered back and pressed his hand against the deep cut in his shoulder, his leather vest and muscles were torn apart and he once more realised how mortal he is.


    Blood gushed out of the wound and pain sparked inside of his body. Although, Hyrion could only smile over the waves of pain, he endured far to much in this short life already, this pain had no qualifications to sway him in any way.


    His sneer was plastered all over his face and the knights couldn''t help but feel exasperated. The little honor that they had vanished in that moment and all of them engaged Hyrion at once.


    "RAAAAAAAAAA", with boisterous war cries the knights sprinted towards Hyrion. Like a well-oiled machine the knights advanced as a single unit this time, closing in on Hyrion and their eyes trembling from excitement.


    Hyrion grimaced and jumped forward. The thick dagger flowed over the bodies of the knights, in search for the tiniest of gaps, to strike and kill. Like a viper Hyrion twined around the knights, his dagger steadily absconding into the iron wall.


    Hyrion was hard pressed as the knights overwhelmed him with numbers, their flurry of swings stepping up a notch and with their advanced strength the onslaught of swings turned unbearable.


    His body was battered and bruised, some of his ribs cracked and his right arm was limp hanging from his shoulder. A deep stab on his biceps hinted towards a severed nerve. The trusted dagger was stuck inside the chest of a fallen knight, like a proud obelisk it protruded out of the iron and flesh alike.


    Rough breathing and bile pulsed from his dry throat, a red foam was fizzing between his lips and a riving headache numbed his body. Not even a small gale of wind could be summoned anymore. by his dried up mana reserves.


    Around him were a dozen knights. Some were supporting their body weight on their swords and shields, others laid unconscious or dead on the ground. The surviving knights bit their lips with burning hate. Blood flowed freely from their torn lips and their eyes were blood shot. Instead of moving they simply stood still, longswords, machetes, axes and simple sharpened branches were pointed at their throats.


    Around the dozens of knights stood at least double the amount of poorly equipped humans and demonkin. Their expressions were dark but a hint of pride was hiding in their eyes.


    The villagers had won!


    Hyrion catched a glimpse of his father, bashing in the skull of a knight that was raising a commotion. One hit, BAMM, and only a bloody pulp remained.


    Salina, Vanessa, Kiroor, Hyrion and many more stalled for enough time to safely move the kids out of the battlefield. He saw the teary eyed Lina and her brother Erik, his face a nuance paler than usual. The other kids looked exactly the same, scarred for the rest of their lives by fear and terror.


    He could only gulp as he saw the adults get ''serious''. The mana around them thundered and rolled like disastrous waves, their bodies radiated incredible might, each hit meant certain death for the knights. At once Hyrion understood what monsters his teachers were. Albeit some of the villagers were slightly weaker than the knights in the end their fighting power was not to be underestimated.


    "Speak for yourself!", a huge man with long curly black hair and a thick brown beard roared towards the knights. His voice carried immense power, driving it over the fields.


    His name was Armin, the village chief. His dark skinned body leaned over the knights and his black eyes stared straight through their helmets; into their minds, their souls.


    "S-S-Shut up! H-Heretic!", one of the knights muttered, his complexion was pale and the clattering of teeth was audible over a few meters.


    Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.


    "IDIOT!", another knight yelled and slapped the young knight on the head.


    "Excuse my subordinate, he is still green behind his ears.", the man said while hawking. He gulped down a bit of saliva, stretched his neck, gazed at Armin with his brown eyes and said: "We have nothing to say, heretic!", while lowly snickering. "You demons make me sick!", he continued on and spit on the ground.


    Armin combed his curly beard with his blistered fingers. "Hummmm...", Armin fell into deep thought. "I guess we will kill you then?!", he said while shrugging with his shoulders.


    He reached for the broad axe strapped on his belt. Its black head gleamed in the moonlight, small dots of red, pieces of flesh and an impeccable edge testyfied for the brutality and durability of this weapon.


    "You demon! I will not let myself be defiled by your hands! You truly are the personifications of the devil! The Gods will smite you if you aly your hands on us knights of virtue!", he screamed as Armin stepped closer and raised the axe up. "You bastard, don''t you think you will leave unscathed! The church will burn down this whole village, I was just one of many! YOU WILL SUFFER OUR RETRIBUTION! STOP N-!". SPLURT!


    It was a lightning fast slash, no pain, no cry of agony, only deathly silence. A subtle red thread surfaced on the knights throat. It was so fine that it nearly went unnoticed. Feeling a bit of an itch the knight fumbled his neck. His eyes turned dull and suddenly.  The helmeted head slumped from the shoulders and rolled over the ground, the face was morphed into a mask of rage and purple veins, drivel and snot.


    "Tch! You scum!", Armin growled. "You are next!", he pointed at the shivering knights.


    The other villagers nodded and moved their weapons closer to the knights'' throats.


    GROOOOOWL!


    A deafening roar errupted from behind the small and askew huts. The earth rumbled and thunderous steps mauled the ground.


    Instinctively all the people on scene shot straight up. Their eyes fixated on the village.


    The earth stirred and shock, like a horse trying to throw of its rider, but the monstrous claws rooted themselves deep into the healthy soil, turned it black polluting the ground.


    A deep scent of brimstone and rooting flesh wafted through the air, the sickening stench whispered of Death''s ballads. It pierced the minds of the villagers and knights alike. It drilled its way deep into their marrow and spread fear like the plague. It was some kind of profound fear, so strong that it twisted into other emotions, made the mind cheer for death and the body languish and lust for pain.


    It was fear so feral that body and mind wanted and needed death.


    The monster made its appearance.


    A smooth black head with blue veins pumping defiled blood. Rattling holes, lavishing the pure air with their breaths. Innumerable rows of yellow teeth, as countless as stars on the firmament. Jagged and crocked they pierced the monster''s skin and pounced out of its jaw. Its maw was wide open and revealed the nightsky within, an abyss of unfathomable depth. A black tongue wriggled out of its ''home'' and greeted the people on site with its grotesqueness.


    The eyeless head starred at the villagers, it harbored a piercing gaze that should be impossible with its absence of eyes. Six strong limbs supported the long body. Two pairs of front legs growing out of the malnourished ribcage; the red and beating heart was faintly visible through the thin layeer of black skin. Another pair of hindlegs and a heavy black tail with pumping blue veins and void black blades -fragments of the abyss- cleaved in on its bones topped the image of the monstrosity off.


    Humans, be it the mighty villagers or the treacherous knights, they all took a step back as the devil, the devil incarnate, writhed its dark head into their direction.


    It took one step forward, and the humans took two steps back, this is how its supposed to be. But there was one being that defied the king, the emperor of darkness.


    Hyrion stood still, fear clawed at his brain, froze it and crushed it under its grip. But the flame, the flame of life, ignite by so many deaths and the urge to live, could not be extinguished.


    The monster felt a tinge of awe for this small insect, it fought against the terror and won! Its face turned into a deformity of ugly fangs and vibrating veins. For the villagers and knights it seemed as if the beast enraged but in truth it was exulting. The misshap of a face was a genuine smile, a smile filled with dread and the heartfelt prayer for demise.


    "ROOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!", the beast howled to the bent silver at the sky. The moon, scared, hid behind thick and grey clouds.


    Hyrion felt the beasts attention focus solely on him. ''Good, good, very good indeed!'', he thought.


    "COME HERE YOU MOTHERFUCKER! I WILL FUCK YOU UP GOOD", he screamed in his old world english. It was not only a taunt directed at the monster but also a wake up call for the villagers. If this continued on they would be rooted on the spot, unable to move and retaliate.


    It worked and the villagers and knights -unfortunately- started to shudder their paralyzed bodies awake.


    One of the knights that was startled awake by the sudden shout was a particular one. Clad in a long robe and equipped with a wooden wand he was unmistakingly a mage. His long white hair fluttered in the wind and his blue eyes turned into a dull grey.


    "You idiots!", he muttered under his breath while chanting the rest of a complex incantation.


    Hyrion felt the fluctuations in the mana from the mage and directed his gaze at the white haired man. At the same time white letters starred down on Hyrion from the sky. Their lush radiance felt oppressive for Hyrion.


    The man, still on the ground, breathed haggardly and pointed with his finger on Hyrion. "Grand Mirage!", he shouted.


    The monster felt the same distortions in the mana and immediately preyed the man of his life. The thick black tail cocked back and pierced straight through the man''s chest, it enlongated for many meters and retracted in lightning speed.


    With a fat hole in his chest the man could only smile wryly, he finished his mission after all.


    SHOOOOOM!


    A blinding white light encompassed Hyrion, creating a circle around him. Hyrion coud already guess what kind of spell this was.


    Out of pure desperation he reached out of the circle with his outstretched left arm, a metaphorical action synonymous for his desire for freedom.


    The abomination gasped. "HuMan, DOn''t ThinK tHIs Is oVeR! NoT once hAS my pReY esCapeD ItS cUrSed FaTe! BE PREPARED!", the monster roared in a frequency defined only for Hyrion to hear.


    In less than the blink of an eye the light exploded out with a lightning and vanished, as well as Hyrion. Only his left arm laid on the ground, the stump still fuming.


    The moment the light exploded the beast frenzied. With its black mana it cursed the small human that defied its very being.


    When was the last time it felt so... alive? It could already taste the tender flesh of the small human but for now the dirty insects crawling in front of it should suffice to tame its hunger.


    Epilogue:


    ''How many times? How many times have I gazed into the depths? What did I do wrong? Where did I wronged to be punished this heavily?''


    The words of the beast, enraged and fuelled by raving madness still pained my mind.


    I was once again diving inside of a botomless gorge, the beast, originating from who knows what cesspit was certainly ravishing my family right now, its unbound hunger would not refuse a free meal, I was sure of it and I hated it. I hated my powerlessness, I hated myself for acting to impuslive, for being unable to safe my family and losing those close to me, for a second time; even though I promised myself.


    What was my destiny in this cruel world? Was there only pain that awaited me?


    My life, my future, all of it was uncertain and in a single night my goals aspirations wer overthrown, trampled upon and grinded into the earth. ''Why do I still bother? Why am not giving up already?''


    As my thoughts drifted into unknown depths I was embraced by a white light. It was a single speck of light but it grew and soon it became a second sun.


    I felt myself falling on a hard ground, wood. Torches flickered inside the spacious room. It was a tall structure with massive pillars supporting a high up roof, so high that the light couldn''t reach it. The room was dank and the air was stale, a tinge of death was mixed into the stench of rooten wood and odor of animal carcasses.


    CREAK!


    A massive door swung open, the handle still moving from side to side as a fat man entered. He raised his arms up, the fat wobbled and the sweat dripped down his chin. "WELCOME! MY DEAR DEMONS!", he shouted towards a non existence audience.


    The room was engulfed by silence only both our breathing were audible.


    "Eh?", the man gasped. "W-W-WHERE ARE MY SLAVES?!", he roared out of his pudgy lips. His face glowed red and pinquid drops flowed down his neck.


    "YOU THERE! Where... WHERE ARE THEY?!", he screamed while pointing his finger at me, barely able to hold the position for a few seconds he lowered his arm while wheezing and coughing.


    Something clicked in my mind. ''THIS BASTARD!'', I screamed inwardly.


    Without hesitating I rushed to the porky man, pain washed over my body but I still burst through. My limp right arm waved in the wind, unable to tense up or even move a finger. I landed right in front of the man, kneeled down and dashed towards his face.


    My knee was closing in at his face at a breakneck speed. ''YOU FUCKER!'', I fueled my kick with emotions and hoped to pulverize the man''s skull.


    "ARGGGGHHHHH!", I shouted as an eletric discharge paralyzed my body and made me bounce harmlessly from the man. A group of knights emerged from the shadows and stood saluting at the man''s side.


    I fumbled with my limp arm over my throat, ''a collar!'', I gasped. My fate, I knew what it was.


    The fat man kneeled towards my wriggling body, his bulbous nose puffed hot air on my skin. "You know... children like you, I love them the most.", he mumbled in a sickening tone. He heaved his body up, his legs trembling and moved out of the door.


    "Bring him to the ''bridal chamber'', our little stud needs to be trained.", the man snapped his fingers and left through the same door he entered from.


    My body was picked up by the knights, by their cold metallic hands and pulled over the rough ground. They silently muttered jokes, talked about their family and friends, their fullfilled lives... and how they would abuse me when the next night came. "The master is first.", they snickered.


    My fate was sealed and I couldn''t muster the strength to hate my life and the Gods for it anymore. My consciousness faded and the abyss called, once again.

 Chapter 013: Next Dawn

    (I think many of you will like this chapter. I tried to make his life as minimum miserable as possible. Well, I just didn''t describe the atrocities he did to survive, I might add them in the future chapters to explain what kind of place he found himself in.


    Anyway I hope you enjoy this chapter. You might found some connections to an anime in this chapter.


    Enjoy! :D )


    The rough iron slammed again and again against the mossy stone wall. Each hit chipped away a bit of the grey mineral and let the valuable ores beneath surface, slowly.


    After hundreds of hits, pushing dozens of drams in and out of the narrow mine, reopenning old wounds and half starving, the shift ended.


    A youth, around 12 years of age but with a build close to a sixteen or even seventeen year old, dragged the full minecart out of the damp cave. With his single arm, bulging and flexing, he managed to push the cart towards a large iron container. The valuable ores were toppled out of the cart and hammered against the metal surface of the container. Some big, some small they hailed down like rain drops.


    As he waited the yellow sun shone on his bruised skin, his bare upepr body craved for the healthy rays of the nourishing sun. His leather pants were torn from sharp stalagmites.


    At the side of the container was a small metal box, the number 4,37 lt, a measurement unit, appeared inside of a small glass window. The box openned and two small pills were discharged.


    The youth took the pills with his bleeding fingers and popped both of them in his mouth. Cringing his face from the bitter taste and the iron taste of his own blood and dirt from the mines he exhaled. His ailing skin turned from a mix of brown with black spots to a bronze color. The youth inhaled deeply and went towards a rustic building after storing the cart and pickaxe away.


    Low noises of talking and high metallic sounds rang from the odd building. Hyrion entered from the front door and moved deeper inside the fully revealed complex. The paths turned into innumerable corners and hadn''t he been spending five years of his life in this building he would have found himself running in circles.


    Through the massive complex, past loud screams of pain and moans of death, he, Hyrion, moved to the ''bridal chambers'', a new batch of slaves fell into Duke Visors hands, into his fat and flabby hands. And he had to clean up the mess.


    Vanquishing his own disgust Hyrion grasped for the iron door handle. The metallic door creaked, echoing the whails from within, and openned by a small gap. The stench of sweat, disease and blood permeated every nook and cranny of the baneful room.


    Hyrion gulped, his hand unconsciously moved towards his chest. He traced the lines of a knobbly scar with his right hand. A cross with a crescent moon facing upwards was stigmatised on his bare chest. His fingers dug deep into the skin and the first lines of blood trailed down from the scar.


    His hand balled into a fist, hatred flared in his eyes but as soon as it came it vanished once again. Hyrion learnt to moderate his temper, to prevent his instincts from taking over.


    He breathed in for a second time, wanting to take as much fresh air into the cursed room as possible, and stepped into the sparsely lit hall.


    Torture devices of all kinds hung fron the ceiling and walls. They were caked in blood and rust, flies nested inside of the feces and human remains that laid in heaps around the room, planting their next generation of maggots inside of them. At the moment a man was strapped onto a smooth iron table, his eyes were blindfolded and his mouth was fuming from the bloody torture. Nails, skin, bits and pieces of flesh, all of these were shredded from the poor soul. The man was bound to bleed out in the next few minutes.


    Hyrion''s hand once again traced ugly scars on his body. His nails were deformed and growing unnaturally, his skin was dotted with fresh wounds and the horn on his head was broken and abraded. Surprisingly his sense of pain was rather dull but when his horn was concerned the pain suddenly errupted like a volcano. The strength left his body and all he could do was cry incoherent sentences and curse in a language only known to those that tasted despair.


    In silence he collected the pieces of bleeding flesh with a short broom. As his gaze fell onto a single thumb that laid on the table his stomach churned. With trembling hands he reached for the piece of meat. His subconsciousness and remaining morals from the old world screamed at him. They feared what would happen next, that more of his former humanity will be chipped away, that he will lose himslef in this man-made hell.


    "AHHH!", the man screamed, scared by the rumbling noise. It was rather fascinating that he still had enough strength to make a loud.


    Hyrion jerked up, the appendage juggled between his fingers and fell into a puddle of murky water with a sickening squelch. It was swallowed by the rotten waste and the first maggots crawled into the fresh piece of meat. Like a horde of piranhas the flesh was digested in just a few moments.


    After a few seconds of starring at the wasted piece of flesh, the fat larvas that were regaling themselves on it, Hrion''s eyes shock violently. He squated down and smacked the maggots away, dug out the piece of meat from the waste. The finger was all but withered into a black mass of slime, Hyrion''s face turned red and the broom in his hands started to splitter.


    "YOU MOTHERFUCKER!", he screamed while stabbing the frail piece of wood deep between the man''s ribs. The wood broke apart but still managed to cave the chest in of the man. With his fury rising he took hold of the broom once again and smashed it into the man''s blindfolded skull.


    BAM BAM BAM!


    The first flogs made the man moan in a low voice. His body spasmed for a few moments as Hyrion continued to bash his skull.


    He repeated it for tens of times, the man no longer moving. The room was silent except for the smashing noise and Hyrion''s savage breathing. At one point in his frenzy he threw the broom aside and used his fist instead.


    BAM! BAM! BAM! BAM! BAM! BAM! BAM! SQUISH! BAM! BAM! BAM! BAM! SPLASH! BAM! BAM! BAM! BAM! BAM!


    The air in the room turned red from the misty clouds of blood and Hyrion''s respiration changed into an animalistic growling. His smaragd eyes were blinded by waves of crimson and yet his fist moved again. His knuckles were torn open and his fist hurt but he still continued with his beating.


    He continued on, each punch signifying his further alienation from his sanity. It was not a matter of venting his anger over the missed meal. Each punch contained the hatred and anger he built up over these few years. Each punch was directed at the man that Hyrion would be delighted to gut with his own hands.


    The pulp of flesh was steaming from Hyrion''s brutality and only when his fist connected with the iron table underneath the corpse did he regain his senses. His beating penetrated all the way through the thick skull, it even surprised Hyrion for a split second.


    His fist stopped in the midst of brain matter, bones and blood. He gazed at his ''artwork'', self loathing and guilt spread from his heart.


    He tumbled back from the corpse, he wanted to create as much distance as possible from the dead body, afraid that it might stand up again, humilate him, sneer at his powerlessness. His body was propped against the stone wall and he silently skid from its smooth surface.


    Bloody fingers ran trough his hair, trembling and erratic; he was reduced to a miserable state. His blood shot eyes turned moist and the first hot drops of tears flowed down his cheeks.


    "Fuck.... Why?", he silently cursed to himself, wheeping and sobbing. His body shuddered from the hotness in the air that seemed so cold at this moment, from the thick smell of blood and the pain that spaked inside his mind, the pain from his memories. Not once, but twice did he lose his family, and now this?!


    He pulled his knees closer, wanted to make himself as small as possible; that way the terrible nightmares won''t find him. He just wanted to hide, nay, to disappear from this world. He enjoyed six years of unrequitted love until he finally understood the importancy of his family and the caring villagers. He enjoyed over twenty years of freedom in his old world before he was robbed of his life.


    The dark room turned into a blackness that cut through his mind. A darkness so thick that Hyrion felt his breathing stop, submerged in black waters. This was an abyss. But this time Hyrion knew he wouldn''t crawl out again once he fell to its depths.


    The door faintly sprang to life. It moved with just a slight tremble but Hyrion''s edged mind noticed the slight movement.


    His mind was pulled out of its vegetable state. "Who?", he asked in a meek voice.


    "I-I am sorry Hyrion... I didn''t mean to...", a feminine voice answered from the other side. It was a high pitched voice with a certain harmonic air to it.


    Hyrion stood up with his shaking legs and troded slowly forward, closer to the angelic voice. Like a moth to the light he felt his mind long for this heavenly note.


    Instead of openning the door completely, Hyrion squeezed himself through the small gap, not wanting to let the visitor see the mutilated corpse.


    Before him stood a girl no older than 13 or 14, only reaching barely his chest. Her hair was blonde, long and curly. Her face was casted downwards.


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    "What''s wrong Miril?", Hyrion asked in a soft tone while raising her chin up with his hand.


    Her big sapphire eyes starred at him, tears glistening at their corners, her rose petal lips formed a small pout.


    "Can''t sleep?", Hyrion asked, whereupon Miril bobbed her small head up and down, her blonde hair waving back and forth.


    Hyrion sighed and pulled her closer into a hug, his lone arm reached for her wispy back and pulled her against his chest.


    His eyesight fell on the stump that was once his left arm, a self mocking sadness flared for a while in his heart as he understood he wasn''t even able to solace anymore. Miril catched his line of sight and in response hugged Hyrion with her own thin arms. Her actions surprised Hyrion and as he gazed at the oval face, tinged in pink from one ear to another, he couldn''t help but feel a certain warmth spread through his chest.


    He inhaled her scent, the sweet smell of a female, and felt the warmth of a being that can be called ''friend''. His nose tickled over her silky hair and he felt the tears welling in his eyes once again, but for another reason.


    Miril burried her face deep into his strong chest, warming her face on his hot and sweaty skin. She felt his stong arm wrap around her back and then her waist, pulling her into a more intimate hug. She knew to well how beet red her face was, close to glowing, and for that reason did she dug deeper into the broad chest that comforted her.


    The atmosphere around the two adolescents was colored pink and radiated a certain warmth. They just stood there, smelling and feeling each other, exploring the body of their partner.


    A few mintues later did they notice their own frisky breathings, their hot boddies unknowingly rubbing against each other and their hands reaching for the deepest spots.


    Shocked by their growing feelings the two pulled back from each other. Miril''s face was red but Hyrion only gently smiled at her. Their bodies were still craving for one another but their hot feelings were drowned in ice water as an obnoxiously loud bell rang.


    Hyrion sighed went up to Miril and caressed her face with his rugged hand. He pulled a golden skein over her long, sharp ears. Her face twitched for a short moment but calmed down immediately. Her small nose tingled cutely from side to side as Hyrion ran his thumb over her supple and cherry lips.


    Miril pessed her fingers against each other, a gesture that she was waiting for something, and perked her small lips up. Between each finger was a thin bluish membrane, much like a fish''s fins.


    The teenage boy smiled wryly and gave the girl a soft kiss on her equally soft lips, he was enticed to never let go of them. Her sweet breath filled his nostrils and her moist lips held a certain sweetness.


    Hyrion parted with those lips only a short while after, gazed at the moist piece of cloth that was sticking to her growing curves and felt his pants tighten. He surpressed his libido with great will, it was to early for both of them. He knew to well of her feelings and his own feelings were growing steadily with each second. Their bodies were still steaming from each others sweat. Knowing fully well how much their bodies longed for their counterparts they tried to surpress it.


    In such a hell there was just no place for love.


    The bell rung again and this time Hyrion pulled Miril by her thin arms. "It isn''t good if they see you here. You have to leave, now!", Hyrion commanded.


    Miril only nodded her downcast head and looked up at Hyrion with pleading eyes. The two sapphires blinked at Hyrion between the veil of curled gold.


    Hyrion smiled while giving a helpless sigh. "This is the last one for today.", he said while raising his index finger in a lecturing manner.


    He kissed her delicate lips and all the way down her neck. He tickled her skin with his nose and sniffed her sweet scent in this cursed hell.


    "Hehehehe.".Miril''s eyes formed happy crescents, she turned on her heels and sprinted out of the building.


    Hyrion followed her partially but took sudden corners until he ended up in a big hall, filled with benches and crude wooden tables. The room was filled mostly with males around twenty years of age or older. As Hyrion swung the door open all of the stares focused on him. They held a dangerous amount of hostility and disgust but Hyrion decided to ignore the glares.


    "The demon is here again!"


    "Why isn''t he dead already?"


    "That guy makes me sick, thinking he stands on the same level as us humans!"


    The buff men chattered about Hyrion, their hate for him audible with every syllable.


    Hyrion walked with self confidence towards one of the weapon shacks. He felt with his thumb over the blunt edge of one of the swords. Their condition was beyond repair, and with a single glance Hyrion knew that those swords would break after a few hits.


    He went to the corner of the hut and pulled out a reliable wooden club. Its weight was good and the wood was massive and durable. Although a sharp and good maintained sword could cut through the comparably frail wood, getting your hands on such a sword here was simply impossible and made the choice of the club a good and easy one.


    With the club hoisted over his shoulders he left the shack.


    A group of men has formed around the shack''s exit, their bare upper bodies shining under the magical light of a few strewn magical lamps.


    Their bodies felt imposin to any onlooker. Covered in scars and rough faces they would make excellent bandits, which some of them were in the past.


    "Enjoying that slutty demon girl are ya''?", the man at the front said in an aggressive tone. His teeth gnashed against each other and his chest raised with his breath.


    "How about... You lend me her shanks and let this daddy of yours enjoy himself with that wench?", the man asked in a ridiculing tone. "What was her name again?", he held a finger on his chin. "Mi...Mariel? Miral? Ah! Yes! That slut is called Mi- PUHAAAA!", he couldn''t finish his sentence as he was sent flying straight into a wall, his chest had a deep cavity in it and his eyes lost their life. Dead in one smash.


    KRRRK!


    Hyrion''s jaw snarled under the pressure of its muscles and his face contorted into a mask of rage. The right arm that swung the club was still pumping furiously and fat veins popped on his skin. A mysterious black hue cursed through his skin, it was secreted by the collar and made the feeling in his limbs grow numb.


    "I might not be able to use magic with this", Hyrion pointed at the collar. "But I have more than enough strength to kill you all!", he roared.


    "You- YOU LITTLE SHIT!", the group of men shouted.


    At the same time a handful of soldiers entered the room. They gazed at the dead body of a two meter towering man ,limp and stuck in a cracked wall. They felt the urge to facepalm as they gazed at the young boy that was the centre of the commotion. He stood out with his horn and the thick collar around his neck, it differed from all the other collars of the slaves around him.


    The soldiers quickly resolved the trouble, beat the slaves with whips and clubbed them with iron batons.


    One of the more elderly soldiers quickly walked towards Hyrion.


    "The next opponent is a knight from Viscount Maler. Ash, he is well trained, uses the lance on horseback and the shortspear on foot. His armor is light leather and he likes to wave with his weapon around as if it was his dick after each sucessful strike. A self centered bastard...", the old man said while lightly patting Hyrion''s trembling shoulders.


    "Thank you Eirich...", Hyrion whsipered. "No problem.", the old man answered back before giving him a steady beating.


    After Hyrion was swiftly knocked out with precise blows he woke up in a confined room, the ground was hard and iron bars let only sparse moonlight enter the cell.


    Hyrion snuggled his arms around the bars and gazed at the silvery moon. ''It looks everywhere the same'', he sighed in his mind. He parted from the rusty iron, with great reluctance, it somehow connected him with his family whenever he gazed at the moon. The one thing that everyone had in common, the sky connected everyone... everywhere. He crouched down in a corner, searched for the softest spot on the stone ground and went to sleep.


    He needed the sleep for his next match. Hyrion knew what he had to do tomorrow, kill or be killed and the day after that the same. He will kill in order to survive, he will kill so that one day he can be free.


    His mind wandered off into its corners, found the picture of the smiling girl, her red face and those pearl white teeth that were brighter than stars, the big blue orbs that were as blue as the sky and the golden locks that were as briliant as the sun. Tomorrow he would be able to see Miril once again and his heart and mind raced at the rosy prospect. It might sound crazy but Hyrion was eagerly anticipating the next day in this cesspool.


    The next dawn of his new life was waiting for him.


    (If you don''t mind, please point out mistakes. I am just to tired to look for them myself. And if you find any grave mistakes, like additional words that don''t fit into the context, parts of sentences all jumbled up, please say so. Thank you!)

 Chapter 014: Long live the King

    (Sorry guys, late gain cuz of exams! This time the chapter is the pov of another person and gives a bit away about what the Ashura''s are exactly.


    I hope you like it and ejoy this chappy! :D )


    Beneath a titanical, black moon stood a grim castle. Build on dead soil and surrounded by a crimson wall of flesh, moving chaos and oozing whails of the damned. The dark grey stones of the castle, rough to the touch and cold as ice, pulsated with a rythmic fashion. Each throb would rob the air its life, it stagnated and turned into a lifeless fog. The fortress was constructed on a sharp mountain, each edge could take lives. The sky around the castle was filled with winged beasts, aparations so disgusting that a look made one''s soul writhe, so big that each one could topple kingdoms and so powerful that only the divines'' could erradicate them.


    Whispers from hell beamed from the castle, clouds and the sky itself moved away from the bullwark, not daring to obstruct its impeccable view on the full moon.


    BOOM!


    A deafening sound echoed from the fortress, the walls themselves wriggled in agony and the grey stone shuddered under the immense pressure.


    Inside the castle, in a wide room, surrounded by purple walls and illuminated by black torches, stood a single man, leaning over a massive table. His arms rested on the stone, tensed and vibrating by force. The stone groaned under the pressure but regardless it remained steady.


    Scrolls made of fine papyrus dotted the obsidian table. The man was scrambling with his rough, dark blue skinned hands through the mass of paper, another hand was frantically pulling at his hairs. His eyes hushed from one paper to the next, analysing its contents and with a dissatisfied glance he dismissed them.


    "It makes no sense! What am I overlooking?!", the man whispered to himself, his voice oddly light and able to entice its audience. The man was tall, wore a black suit and his muscles were clearly visible under the fine clothing. His face was cleanly shaven and as faultless as his white hair was, briliant white with not a single speck of dust or impurity. His eyes were a deep, dark blue; a demonic and terrifyingly deep blue.


    The scrolls were covered in intricate drawings of human-like beings. They had a dangerous air around them and only a quick glimpse would send shivers down one''s spine. The humanoids, more aptly called, monsters, had multiple apendages growing out of their body. They were growing out of random spots and had hideous weapons such as thick black blades attached to them. Their gross appearance urged the body to vomit in disgust.


    One of the ''designs'' was more simple. It was a human figure with two thick horns protruding from its temples. The horns were a deep black -darker than the void could ever be and swallowed all hope and light in this world-.


    Parts of the demonic figure were highlighted or commented on. ''Subject experiences major breakdown'', ''Corrupting of the specimen''s soul'', ''Spontaneous death'', ''Arbitrary fits of raving madness'' and many other phrases decorated the ''blueprint''.


    The towering man shuffled the papers aside and brandished a scroll with nearly the same design on it. But this time the horns were lackluster; they seemed ordinary.


    "Haaaa...", the man sighed, grunted in a bloodcurling tone. He sat down on a massive chair, massaged his temples and mumbled silently for himself. "I guess this should be alright.... Who am I kidding? His Highness will kill me!", with a distraught moan he laid his head down on the table and let painful nightmares sweeten his sleep.


    ----------------


    "Miiiiril! Come on, sit down!"


    "B-b-b-but mistress, I-I could never sit besides you!"


    "Hummm...? So you are defying the order of your master? Is that it?"


    "N-N-no, I am sorry. I will have a seat, mistress."


    "Tch. Why are you still calling me that? I thought we were friends?"


    "B-But I could never call mistress by her name, my status doesn''t allow it."


    "Its alright. Since I am your master I order you to call me by my name!"


    "But...but..."


    "No excuses!"


    "Ciera..."


    "Heheheheh. That''s good. Now, let''s enjoy the battles."


    Ciera, a vigorous and vivid girl, and I, her personal maid, were standing at the booths of a magnificient arena.


    How and why? The reason is simple.


    As a young girl I was nothing more than an orphan. The memories of my parents were hazy or completely non existent. It pained me at first, whenever I saw a smiling family treading through the alleyways, stopping at the foodstalls and enjoying a dinner -together-, but I soon turned into an emotionless bundle wandering down the streets, picking up whatever would benefit me. As a demonkin it was difficult to make a living but unsuspecting bypassers were always easy targets.


    As I returned to the orphanage I commonly wandered around my eyesight fell on a pair of a tall, tanned and blonde man and a slender dark brown haired woman. As I walked past them I noticed the small girl, trembling and hugging her mother''s leg. Thinking it was none of my business I entered the orphanage, with me walking past them I could already feel the disgusted looks of the family. But instead I felt a warm hand on my shoulder.


    I was picked up from the run down orphanage, by a human family nonetheless. Most of the humans I came in contact with glared at me and displayed open hostility. But this peculiar family convinced my trembling heart with their kind actions. They acted warm towards me, gave me food and shelter.


    After a few years living in peace with my new family I started to feel guilty. They gave me everything but I never gave them anything in return.


    So I proposed to become the personal maid of the young mistress, Ciera. She was afraid of me at first, my long pointy ears and my finned hands looked unusual for her, but as we both were children and my new parents instilled tolerance into the young Ciera it was quite easy to become friends. Only a few months older than me but more brutal than I could ever become. Maybe it was her sheltered life that made her crave for the bloody battles but when she, or rather we, sneaked out of the mansion to watch the gladiator games her brutal nature came fully into display. Her eyes shone whenever she saw the hordes of monsters ravaging over a single man, who in turn tries to fight for a living only to end up with a disfigured corpse. It was an absurd contrast to her trembling self.


    It was also on one of those days when I first met him, Hyrion.


    The wind was cold and the sun could barely squeeze its rays through the veil of thick clouds. As on every other day when the gladiator games started I was dragged by my arms towards the large amphitheater. Ciera''s dark brown hair and her copper eyes blazed in the darkness like a fire, it might have been the open bloodlust that made her radiate like a second sun but whatever.


    We hushed through narrow alleys, between busy merchants and the bustling populace. The large dark grey coliseum was visible in the midst of the city, food stalls were openned up in each corner. Their salty meat and alcoholic beverages satisfied the blood crazed customers.


    Ciera made her way towards one of the shops, fresh skewers were on display, oozing with hot fat and sizzling from the heat of the masive oven. The thick smell of blood and meat wafted through the air, it was nauseating at first but once you get accustomed it makes your stay much more enjoyable.


    We asked for four skewers, each the length of my arm. The man serving gave us a confused look but a hearty smile nonetheless. As his eyes fell on me I instinctively shrunk back. The man sighed and pressed three skewers into my arms. His crocked grin was warming somehow.


    I gave the man my gratitude and we both turned towards the arena. The meat felt warm on this chilling day.


    We ate two of the skewers on our way inside, bought tickets for front row seats and made our way into the inner most sanctum of the coliseum. We passed multiple iron gates before the sound of cheers and jeers entered our ears. The ground began rumbling by the stomping feet of the greedy spectators. My eyes swooped over the crowd, their bodies leaned forward, the sweat trickeld down from their skin, as they watched the mutilated warrior being torn apart by hungry dorwans. The dorwans'' massive bodies and huge claws swiped once and the warrior was turned into confetti.


    As the man disappeared under the huge claw of one of the dorwans'' the crow exploded in shouts.


    We ignored those same shouts and took a seat in the front most part.


    Ciera''s fingers held tightly onto the railing as she loomed her body over and into the battlefield. The dorwans, these eight legged monstrosities, were led out of the arena by a group of slaves, their four eyes starred in all directions. Drugged and disease ridden they glared into empty air.


    The crowd turned silent as a sudden shout pierced our ears.


    "LADIES AND GENTLEMAN! WELCOME TO THE DRAGON''S DEN! TODAY WE GOT A SPECIAL FIGHT FOR YOU!", a fat man with a glowing staff heldagainst his lips appeared in the midst of the arena. Howsoever I looked at him, he was appalling in every sense. His body was a huge clump of fat and dirty grease.


    The man continued though. I really wish he didn''t, simply seeing him already infuriated me.


    "AN ASHURA, HATED BY HUMANS AND DEMONS ALIKE! ONE OF HIS LAST KIND! AN ASHURA, KNOWN AS... ''THE TYRANTS''  ", the fat man shouted.


    The crowd was silent for a long while. And then it errupted into drumming cheers and blasting noises of stomping and shouting.


    "No way!"


    "A real Ashura? Impossible!"


    The crowd turned into a heated mass, their suspense kneaded by the very word of the obese man.


    "HERE HE IS, ONE OF THE LAST TRUE DEMON CLANS! PLEASE WELCOME HIM!", the man raised his voice once again.


    At the same time a large iron fence openned up opposite from us. The iron fangs anchored into the ground ruptured the earth as the metallic gate lifted higher and higher. The crowd held its breath, I was no exception. Even Ciera, still leaning over the handrail, kept her mouth tightly shut.


    Squeaking, the gate was barely putting any effort in revealing the enigmatic figure behind, it tensed the nerves of everyone present to the point that everyone''s stress level was gradually raising into unbearable levels.


    I on the other hand felt my thoughts slowly drift away. ''A fellow demon...'', I thought. He would be one of the first demons I would encounter and somehow I felt tense, for a different reason. It was the same feeling a woman got when meeting with her heartthrob, I did not want to give this Ashura the wrong impression of me, although him noticing me was more than unlikely. When I thought about my own feelings, this mushy feeling in my stomach, it was unnatural. I had no reason at all to be nervous, why should I even be concerned with this person in the first place?!


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    My thoughts were cut short as the gates lifted completely with a last desperate struggle against gravity. For a second nothing seemed to happen, only deathly silence and a cold gale animated the grounded mood. And then... a wave of death flowed out. I heard the faint gasps of the audience as the burst of bloodlust swamped through the coliseum. I was sure even people outside felt it. It was so thick and concentrated it made Ciera''s bloodlust seem like a wisp of smoke that was weakly carried away by the wind.


    Thousands of eyes focused on the empty hallway, and the darkness that was stretching within. Beyond the gate was a yawning void, a darkness that swallowed the very light, an abyss that consumed lives. And out of this void a pair of green eyes stared back. It was a deep emerald green, regal and majestic, defying the darkness surrounding it. As I gazed into this pair of phantasmic eyes I felt my reason crumble to pieces. My knees felt weak and the urge to kneel intensified in the back of my mind. I WANTED to kneel, I wanted to kneel before the king.


    Silence fell over the arena, heavy like a mountain it weighed on all of us and yet it felt so fragile as if it were only a sheet of paper or a fine glass. Even the tiniest squeal would shatter this silence and for that very reason the onlookers averted their gazes, stopped blinking and breathing and lost themselves into a trance of angst. We all thought, ''What would happen if we break the silence?'', those green eyes, shining so brightly in this hellish darkness, answered: Calamity.


    I breathed heavily, or tried to -the air seemed so hard to breathe right now-. I was fighting with my own self from not fainting as I looked on the ground. I noticed my legs were trembling and the sweat was running down my nose. I felt hot and cold at the same time as the eyes from the void hushed over the crowd. Like ignis fatuus the eyes shone with trapping sheen, they lured you into a false eden and trapped you in a chimaera of faux dreams. Even the draconic eyes of the dorwans'' were less frightening.


    The pair of green eyes scanned the crowd and the people started flinching. Their sixth sense was warning them from an unsurmountable predator, stalking in the shadows, liking his fangs only to make them smoother slide into your flesh. And in some way they were right. Those eyes that held nothing but disdain for the people present, monochrome and dismal, were more than demon or human; we were watched like the insects we are.


    And then I felt it. The gaze focused on me, on my small body, on my head full of gold. Unknowingly I started to blush furiously. The fear and terror of the gaze was still there but at the same time I felt a deep yearning spread in my chest. It was inexplicable.


    TAP TAP SHRIK SHRIK


    My vortex of emotions, the pusillanimity, the trepidation, all of them were blown away by this sound. I could hear light footsteps from the gate, followed by the rustling of chains. I looked up again, curiosity got the better of me, as it did for many others in the arena. And what was thought as our demise, the forbidden glance on the demon, turned into surprise.


    At first I couldn''t believe my eyes, that this was all but a prank, or that my mind broke down from the intense glare, but I positively could see him; and I saw the small body the smaragd eyes belonged to. It was the body of a child, not a year older than me, probably even younger, but the intense gaze from before remained. It was a stark contrast to the crippled body and I felt shocked about it.


    The chains, thick and heavy, were bound to his surprisingly muscular legs and like metal snakes they wriggled over the ground. Each link was made of massive iron, together weighing the same as a grown man, but the boy simply moved his legs as if there was no hindrance at all.


    It was my turn to gaze over the boy''s body. It was a horrible sight. Cut, burnt, ripped and slashed open wounds covered his body like grass the plains. His left arm was cleanly sliced off and the black mark on his chest pulsed rabidly under the raising chest.


    When I saw the horrible scars, broken bones and bloody flesh I felt hatred, immense hatred inside of me. ''WHO DARES?! WHO DARES TO HURT HIM, MY KING?!''. I felt myself turning embarassed as the thoughts left my mind. I was embarrased indeed but the savage thoughts continued to flash before my inner eye; knitted together with the urge to kill whoever dared to hurt this young boy. The wrath damming inside my mind made me unable to listen to the loud shouts of the visitors, some booing and disgracing this as a joke while others cheered, but this one voice was still perceived in my red colored mind.


    "AND HERE IS HIS CONTENDER!.... JEROME!", the fat man waved frantically with his arms, he himself was in a daze for a long time and completely forgot about the duel.


    The slaves in the battlegrounds activated a second gate. It was oiled ways better compared to the first gate, noticeable at the quick moment it took for the gate to open.


    This time the gate seemed less dark, or rather, ordinary dark. A tall man with rust brown tanned skin entered the arena. He had a turban on his head, it covered the lower half of his face and made his black eyes squint through the small gap, and only loose sandbrown shorts covered his legs. In his hands were curved sabres, coppery like the suburnt ground.


    "He is a warrior hailing from the great desert plains in the south! A man that lived through countless battles and hundreds of deaths. And today he will fight with an enigma, and one of the demons. He is none other than: JEROME, THE DESERT SCORPION!"


    As the man announced the warriors name the spectators fell into heated disscusion. The shock from the Ashura boy was blown away like a leaf in the autumn wind, it was just about forgottten.


    "Jerome... Jerome, Jerome, Jerome.... Where have I heard that name? Wait a moment.... Jerome... Desert scorpion, oh yeah right! It is Jerome, Jerome of the Desert''s claw. One of the few elite adventurer groups from the Rhonhill principality. How come they can afford to expend one of their most valuable pawns?", a man next to us began wondering.


    Those around him chimed in. "I heard the nomad tribes helped them in conquering the surrounding duchies. The southern lands are in dire straits and the Rhonhill principality tries to unify them again, is what I heard."


    "Yes, I also heard that the southern lands plunged into civil wars because of the barely buoying resources. Water and food turned sparse since the Empire of the west, Silvanis, robbed them of their nothern territories. But I do wonder, what is that Jerome doing here then? Shouldn''t he help with expanding their territories once again and securring a foothold in the south?", another one wondered.


    Listening to those stories was all fair and good but my attention was uncontrollably forced on the battleground.


    The young boy''s dishiveled and blonde hair, his black horn, bronze skin and murderous scowl, all of those gave him a feral mien. I felt my heart flutter as I locked onto his rather handsome face, rugged and wounded but good looking nonetheless. Heat rose up to my cheeks and Ciera gave me a quizical look as I hid my face behind my hands.


    "Miril, what''s wrong?"


    I just remained silent, of course I couldn''t tell her that I was attracted towards the crippled and by death pervaded boy. It was foolish and the longer I though about it the more I was assured of myself that those feelings stem from nothing more than my own nervousness. Nervous about seeing one of my own kind, fighting and probably dying right before my eyes.


    Ciera bit her lower lip. "I really don''t like this.", her face was cramped into a depressed expression.


    "That boy is younger than we are and yet he is fighting for his life, I really don''t like this.", her voice was sombre but held certain mischief and hidden determination.


    Her ever changing personallity over these years, the experience  gathered from all this time I played and talked together with Ciera, gave me a foreboding feeling.


    "Maybe... If I ask father...", she began to mumble.


    As this sentence fell, like a boulder into a ravine, I couldn''t believe my ears.


    "What are you talking about mistress?! You can''t be serious!", my tone was unbeffiting for a maid, it was a scolding tone.


    "What?! Shouldn''t it be alright? And who are you calling ''mistress''?", Ciera answered with an unrelenting voice, her small chest puffed up.


    "Ha! And who are you even trying to kid. You think I didn''t notice how you looked at the boy? You are at that age after all...", her voice trailed off and her 11 year old body seemed to age for dozens of years.


    My cheeks reddened and my voice pitched up high. "Wh-w-w-WHAT? N-n-no way! There was n-nothing like that!", my composure crumbled with each stutter and I felt myself disbelieving my words. That warmth I felt in my chest, the rapid throbbing and bouncing of my heart, I never felt like that before. Was that what is known as love? But that couldn''t possibly be, couldn''t it? I never felt once attracted towards a boy my age, how could I? As a demon most of the humans ignored me and drew a large arc around me or they gave me shots of hatred. The only sincere love I felt was for Ciera and her family, so how could this be love? At most it was a premature yearning for the company of a fellow demon, nothing more... right?


    I massaged my head as the thoughts started to conflict with each other, I didn''t know what was right and what was wrong right now.


    Between my hands I peeked at the pit. The boy was moving with his shackled legs towards a small weapon rack at the sides. It leaned against the stone encirclement and was filled to the brim with all sorts of primitiv weapons, no refinement and dull.


    The boy picked a massive bastard sword. It was two-handed and must have weighed at least 2 lr (~30 pounds)


    [1lt=150 pounds; 1lr=15 pounds]


    He held it only in his right hand, the sturdy fingers wrapped around the leather covered hilt. The blade was chipped and dented. The boy razed the sword over the ground and rasped the earth with its broad shiv.


    "LET''S BEGIN!", the pudgy man shouted.


    My heart skipped a beat and my body quivered. I was sure the boy would lose this fight, be executed on the spot without any form of resistance. A sword as massive as that was a foolish decision even a novice like me knew about, and yet there was the tiniest part in the corner of my mind and heart that said: "It will be alright". With mixed feelings I waited for them to clash and hoped for the boy to win and survive.

 Chapter 015: The sky will turn blue again!

    (Another chappy, had to prepare for a math exam rewrite, its tomorrow! Fucking teacher gave me 24 points less because of formal mistakes and didn''t even let me argue with her. I went to the pricipal and he was like, ''Dafuq is this shit?!'' as he saw my exam paper. Then he decided I should be able to rewrite it. Love that guy.


    Warning: It''s longer than any other chapter from this fiction so far!


    Anyway, sorry about my rant, enjoy this chappy! :D )


    I slowly woke up from my baleful slumber. The ground was as hard and cold as steel, the freezing gales of the night and the humidity in the cell should have affected a person more than just a sore back but my physique allowed me to enjoy the perks of being inhuman.


    I first felt the real difference of my modified body when I arrived at this hellhole.


    I was tortured non-stop, from night till break of dawn. With ulcerated wounds I was left in a corner, tears dotted my face and pain was an ever-present companion.


    Benighted by darkness I drowsed in my lone corner. The pain sparked from my innumerable wounds, some internal lacerations and others cuts on my body. My grisly body was surprisingly resilient against the uncountable germs and parasites and with only a few minor bruises and a light cough I woke up, in the same corner, covered by gloomines and my ubiquitous blood and feces.


    For the better or for the worse my body started to accustom itself to the torture. My pain receptors simply send less and less signals towards my brain, my pained screams turned sour, into roars of hate. My torturers felt the change, the pangs had lost its strings on me.


    With glee and anxiousness they experimented further on my body. Tried their cruelest methods on me, showed their forte; which part they could make hurt the most. It was funny in a sense, seeing all these grown men frolic like children. Of course it was less funny because I was their subject and my pain was their impetus.


    I could count two years before they felt bored by the continous torture. They left me to my own devices but only after cruely disfiguring my proud horn. It was cut and broken to pieces and only a dull remnant of a once majestic horn remained.


    Nonetheless I was proud for what little was left of my former self.


    Before long I wa sent into the ''cage''. With nothing but barely covering leatherpants I was thrown into the arena. Taken off-guard by the sudden change I waddled forward, to the only source of light in the dark corridor. It was, of course, the entrance to the arena.


    I could hear the loud yodeling of the crowd and their stampeding feet, it was more reminiscient of a massive exodus than simple stomping. The walls shuddered and after a loud call from outside the noise receeded and a thick tension spanned through the air. Even from behind the gate I could feel it crisp clear, my heart nearly thumped out of my chest.


    Moving forward in my slow gait I closed in on the exit, it''s blinding light extremely contrasting with the veiling darkness that environed me. At my front was something akin to freedom and behind me was the eternal imprisonment. Be it desperation or the haunting nightmares, I just wanted to leave this place.


    My feet and legs hurried towards the source of light, towards my salvation from this hell. But when I listened closely to the voice, that high-pitched, jarring screaming, my resolve felt vain and hollow. What replaced it was boiling hot hatred and wrath. It spilled out of my body, of each and every pore. My body and mind ramped in unison, my teeth clenched and spit and bile flew out like silver projectiles. My throat urged me to scream, shout and my body forced me to move and destroy, obliterate the source of all this pain. I wanted to vociferate over the whole mess that my life turned into, make space for my pent up anger but I quelled it all down. I squashed it all into a shard of pure hatred and kept it as a remembrance latent in my heart where it nurtured itself from my red desires and only waited to be freed.


    I felt my skin tremble as I was approaching the source of my pain further. It was a mixture of panic and sickening rancour over my own despairing.


    The huge metal gates lifted into their slots, like the fangs of a snake they only waited to burry themselves deep into the ground to hide its victim in its vile intestines once again.


    Without even me knowing I started to glare menacingly at the outside world, outside sat all those people, enjoying their lives, feasting on the forthcoming slaughter and the freedom they grasp.


    With light steps I left the gate, old silence was filling the air and only a few sparse gales hushed through the arena.


    My attention, which I thought would undoubtly be focused on the more pig than human man, shifted through the audience and stopped on an inconspicuous plain of liquid gold.


    Two long and pointy ears peeked timidly through the veil of long blonde hair that descended down her fair and white shoulders like a golden cascade. The tip of her ears were coloured in a light rogue, like a glac¨¦ apple. I noticed her trembling under my red-hot glare and the sight of the trembling girl with a head full of gold and her fine dress evoked emotions burried deep inside my heart. A single phrase escaped the entanglement that were my thoughts presently: ''How cute...''.


    My heart jumped up and down inside my chest and feelings so long forgotten resurfaced out of oblivion to tinge my mind a mirth pink. My whole personna turned somehow blithe and all those troubles seemed to lay in the past, but they lurked  in the shadows and only waited for my delight to wither like a drying and dying plant and then strike.


    I dismissed my thoughts and broke my piercing glare as I smoldered my inner turmoil out. Her trembling lessend and I bit my inner ''ass'' for making her shudder in fright in the first place; it just pulled my heartstrings to see such a feeble creature shiver from fear.


    The emotionless glare from before returned and I faced the opposing entrance.


    After the fat man spoke once again, a voice that will torment me for years to come and I would rather like to forget, the gate openned and an arabic themed man stepped into the spotlight.


    The crowd started a heated disccusion but I paid it no mind. What I needed before the battle was a weapon.


    I leisurely walked towards a single brown weapon rack leaning against the arena''s wall.


    It was filled with all kinds of crude weapons, their shafts were rough and the loose metal chinked and was rusty. Without a second thought I pulled out a long bastard sword.


    It was dull but the brute force created by its massive weight compensated for it. Its durability was no joke either, the massive iron blade would even survive hits against stone. On second thought it was more of an iron slab than a sword...


    My muscles heated up as I hoisted the sword into the air. I could see the muscles on my arm tremble as the weight of the sword pressed down onto the ground. Blue veins peeked under my epidermis and turned my skin into a maze of blue serpents.


    I could faintly hear the shout for the start and let the sword smash onto the ground. I heaved it over the dirt and as I turned around I could see my opponent sprint with incredible speed towards my position.


    His brown hands rested on the hilt of his two curved sabres. They tinkled against his legs with each of his feathery steps.


    In a short moment he appeared right before my eyes. His dark brown -black- eyes glared infernally with their cold indifference.


    With a shallow flick the copper at his waist turned into a pair of viscious vipers. They slithered across the air, side by side with his arms, and hounded for my unprotected left side.


    My feet chut over the ground, the sword in my hand was barely any hindrance for my shrewd footwork. It resembled a suave dance under the moonlight.


    I avoided the breezes of sword cuts by only a hair''s margin. In the past, as a human from earth, I could have never hoped to achieve such a bodily control. I dodged in bizarre angles, used the chains as anchors to pull me over the terrain and my sword was nimbly turning and winding in the wind.


    The man lunged forward, both swords pointed at me from above. I narrowly dodged the vertical slash which turned right before my eyes into a powerful thrust.


    ¨¤ la Matrix style I evaded the cold blades by leaning backwards and at the same time swiped with the broad sword for the man''s feet.


    With his body still being in a forward motion he used the energy to jump over my backwards leaned body and turn his thrust once again into a vertical slash that was aimed for the arteries on my neck.


    I could see the copper coloured blades inch closer towards my neck, dangerously close. The power from my horizontal slash was used to move my body sideways and at the same time I used the flying chains as a pseudo shield as they tempested around me in abstract movements.


    The man somersaulted in mid air and skid over the dry ground. His momentum raised up a thin cloud of dust.


    I jumped up from the ground I tumbled over and pressed my right shoulder tightly against my neck. A sanguine, red line was continously letting crimson liquid seep through my bronze skin. From the amount of blood that was oozing out of my flesh I could guess that an artery might be punctured by the slash. It was a dangerous situation, I could suffer any time from haemoorhagic shock.


    I let the sword rest on my body, spit a large drop of saliva on my finger and applied the thick spittle over my wound. It was better than nothing in the end.


    Be it my saliva or my improved physique, my body recovered at a pace so fast that I swear that I could feel it regenerate.


    As I fumbled with my fingers over my neck I felt a sharp edge point at my skin. After feeling around some more I came to the conclusion that the collar around my neck was chipped and possibly saved my life. I was a bit conflicted at that moment. The blade would have passed my neck weren''t it for the iron collar, but because of this collar I was here in the first place. MY fingers clenched around the piece of metal encircling my throat -with hate and pain-. My turmoil was quickly resolved and the same fury as ever brood in my mind and reigned over the other emotions with cold determination.


    I picked the heavy sword up, the man opposite of me was observing my actions with keen eyes. He was a honorable opponent that would only fight an armed person, his eyes told me as much.


    He waited patiently for me to get ready, take a stance and collect my wits before the second round started. His forehead was slightly blanketed in dust and sweat but his overall condition was at its peak. Seeing me finish my preparations he let his body fall forward, his breathing was regular as though he was going in for a stroll and his eyes shone with bloodlust only a pinch inferior to my own.


    The wind billowed over the arena, and marked the start.


    He shot forward like an arrow released from the bowstring, both swords pointed forward, the horns of a bull ran straight into me. It appeared to be a simple and rushed maneuver, full of oppenings and only focused on offense, but I knew it was never good to underestimate his opponent.


    I readied the clunky sword and rattled the chains over the ground, they were a good distraction.


    In a few moments only he reached my position.


    I jumped back; but before, I cracked the chains like thunderous whips through the air. They cackled like hyenas as they crashed into the ground. It put a tremendous strain on my ankles to move the humongous iron serpents but it rewarded me abundantly.


    It was noisy and my eardrums pulsed from the continous thunderclaps but I pushed through.


    The man dodged the iron chains'' forward assault, as they dug into the ground like monstrous worms, but he could not avoid the backlashes. They were pulled back from behind and one managed to crash into his side.


    He avoided a fatal injury by placing one of the swords between him and the chain. His arm cracked under the pressure and pushed his own blade deep into his flesh.


    Both metals groaned as they clashed with each other but it was obvious that my massive chain prevailed. The sheer power of a leg and whipping motion powered iron chain was something that not even the most sturdy of humans could block unscathed.


    ""Ahhh..."", we both moaned from pain as he slid over the ground, holding his cracked side, whereas I felt a sharp pain from my legs. *SNAP!*, the pain  intensified manyfold and the sound of strands snapping was heard. My muscles were aching and screaming for relaxation and the skin on my ankles was bloody and sore. I tried to move my legs but they defied my own will, I could feel the torn muscles.


    ''Shit...'', I cursed myself, those movements were simply to overbearing on my body and my opponent. The strain should have been predictable but I was once again to rash and this was my retribution.


    The man, Jerome, spat out a mouthful of blood beneath his face cover. The cloth turned from a light beige to a blood red. After the fabric soaked itself with the viscid liquid it started to drip large crimson tears. The man coughed once more and send a spray of blood between his lips, clustering on the cloth and turning it further red.


    Surpressing his pain he stood stock still and readied his swords for another mad attack. His arm was bleeding profusely and one sword was bend in an odd angle but its sharpness remained untouched. With a deafening roar he collected his scattered pugnacity, and shock off the coughing fit.


    I could faintly discern tensed gulps and eager breaths from the spectators. These actions only fueled my disdain for the audience and my mind was once again flooded with thoughts of hate and killing. Killing those people that took joy in the death of others. It was ironic that in my case I found some perverted joy in killing particulary these people. ''When did I even start liking to kill people?'', I wondered but ony shook my head in response.


    With a roar of my own I dispersed my red thoughts and focused on the opponent standing in front of me. My legs trembled in agony as I tried to move them. ''Gotta stay defensive huh...''.


    I waited patiently for Jerome''s next attack. I held the sword pointed to the ground, it dug a small pit into the patch of untouched brown. He agreed to my ''invitation''; after only a few seconds he was already circling around me, goggling for an opening he could abuse. With clenched teeth I followed his steps, my legs only moved with the utmost effort.


    Abruptly he halted in his tracks, the copper swords at his sides clenched tightly by his hands and a deafening silence assimilated into our surroundings. Sweat dripped down my back anda my spittle turned thick. Only a sudden jump was neeeded to close the gap between us.


    My sword was raised high and at the same time I kicked out for a last desperate distraction. The chain flew through the air, slower than before and plumeted down on the ground before hitting Jerome''s body.


    Instinctevly he jumped away in surprise but after a single glance at the ground he turned his attention towards me once again, a sneer visible under the stained cloth. With a swift dash he bombarded me with a flurry of swings.


    My vision turned rust red as the swords filled my horizon to the brim. My taxed legs responded to late and a few of the slashes reached my body. They struck like a serpent, bit through my skin and diloricated my flesh like wet papertowels.


    Two slashes were particulary strong, meant to rupture my flesh and servere my remaining arm. But to the surprise of Jerome and the gasping audience, that thought I would be torn apart, the swords stopped halfway through my flesh and bones. I already had a hunch that my body was more than just simply stronger. My skin, muscles and bones were denser than any human could ever achieve, even my hairs were thin strands of metal plaited into a dark blonde mane. My metabolism was extremely high, it caused extreme hunger and heat which was unbearable the first weeks. The pangs of hunger hit me hard and I even resigned to canibalism after the first months. Those unfortunate slaves...


    But after a while it dimmed down as the feeling of a foreign substance entering my body intensified. It was most likely a by product of the ''elemental essence'' in the air or even a third unknown substance besides the by me known mana and essence.


    My eyes slanted into mocking curves as the wide eyed Jerome tried to pull his swords out of my body. My tissue hardened around the copper sabres like metal clamps.


    The liquid red was silently flowing from my wounds but the swords showed no signs of leaving any time soon. With both sabers stuck in my left shoulder and right forearm respectively I was a miserable sight to see. It looked extremely painful, and in truth it was, but the wounds were bearable as long as vital spots were missed like right then and there. Concering the damage they did to my body it was only pat.


    I gripped my sword tighter and swung it with brute force, no technique whatsoever, right into Jerome. It was an upward slash coming right out of the corner of his eyes.


    My arm pumped incredible heat and the blood flowed now even quicker out of my grievous wounds, my sight grew somewhat blurry but I endured and pressed forth with my colossal sword. It split the air apart and blurred through space. The rough and jagged edges buzzed melodious with the wind.


    The might of my swing was nothing to look down at. If I tried to put it into perspective it would be the raw might of a tiger and grizzly swing combined. A bestial power, maybe even a god-like power, that resided in my body from who knows where? The sword connected square with Jerome''s chest like the stroke of the gong. By the law of inertia only his chest caved in before the rest of the body followed suit.


    His feet left the ground and his head flung forward, not able to bend back fast enough. His body was propelled into the sky and a constant crackling squired his every movement. Only when the sword reached its maximum reach did the limp body shot through the air. In that moment Jerome turned into a ragdoll as he was chucked away by my swing for tens of meters. His body bend in odd angles and a red lotus burgeoned on his chest.


    His fists were still balled, greedy for his swords, but the rest of his body was lifelessly lying on the ground. The dark brown eyes were wide in surprise but the light of life was wordlessly expired.


    With heavy puffs between my dry lips I knelt down on one knee, my waulked hand lost its grip on the heavy sword and it plopped silently on the ground.


    I groaned slightly as I pulled out the two sabres stuck in my flesh, a spate of blood discharged out of the wounds. I got up from the ground, still wheezing heavily and caked in my own blood.


    Without looking back I entered once again the abode of darkness that was my home for the past years.


    Not a single word was spoken as the guards closed the gate behind me and I entered the large corridor. Cheers errupted at my back but I payed it no heed.


    A slight smile adorned my lips, the fight was a nice one, it was bloody, erratic and violent, exactly what I liked.


    My horn resonated with my thougths as it pulsated with a warm rythm. A volatile battle frenzy spread through my body, my heavy legs felt light and the wounds slowly crept to a close, but to remain as ugly battle scars. I was in wonder over the warm-liquid like feeling, this quixotic but wanton feeling. I just wanted to continue the fight, slaughter some more and then bed hundreds of woman. It was a feeling stemming from my abstinence of killing, or rather the joy of killing originating by my transformation, and the warmth of another human body. The thoughts stung in my heart but I continued on, through the dark path and entered my ''chamber''.


    The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.


    The room was made of rough and cold stone, a hard wooden board was my ''bed'' and a stinking latrine stood in the corner. A small window served as vent and only let sparse light through and into the room.


    I sat down on the hard, chocolate-brown, wooden planks and inhaled deeply, not the stench around me but my scattered spirit.


    Days passed, another fight which I left victorious. Over the time I turned into the colliseum''s enigma. A young, promising fighter, a demon and a slave.


    Weeks after my first fight, as I laid down on the ground training my body, harden it for future fights, a knock resounded on the thin door. I stopped and, to be fair, was startled quite a bit.


    It was not the brutal, drunken knocking of the guards, looking for an object to vent their anger on, it was a knocking that said ''Can I come in?''. It was gentle and judging by the nonetheless heavy knocks it was a male visitor. ''How can this be?'', it contradicted to what I experienced over the past few years, men loved it to oppress those weaker than them, or those that couldn''t fight back.


    So why was this person so insistently knocking and not just simply barge in and torture me like the rest did?


    I wondered and wondered and the knocking remained constant. I waited for a few minutes but it did not pass and I began to think that this was just a figment of my imagination, my magnified heartbeat maybe that was pulsing against my bones?


    A light cough and a murmur told me that this was indeed real, a real person stood outside, seperated by this door, and waited for a response. The person outside had to have longst turned its own knuckles bloody, so why was this person keeping this charade up, wasn''t silence another form of an answer? And why even bother with a slave?


    I gasped in surprise, maybe this person didn''t understood such a simple principle. I smiled faintly as I thought about the dunce that was knocking incestantly on this door.


    "Who is it?", I asked in a low voice while still lying on the floor.


    "Marquis Herenthal Vior Hieden, I wish to speak with you.", a firm yet gentle voice responded, permeating through the door and carrying honest intentions. "You might not trust me but could you let me, old fool, in?", the voice continued.


    I was flabbergasted. No, I had no idea who that man was but the title alone made me jump up in surprise. What did a man with such a position want to discuss with a slave?


    With a slightly cracked voice I answered back. "O-of course, come on in.", I couldn''t surpress the nervousness in my voice and in some way it made me panick for a short moment but only before I thought about the following. ''As a marquis he shares the same position as my slaver, so... shouldn''t he be the same? A power hungry self-obsessed monster hiding beaneath human skin?''. The nervousness faded away from my face -to quickly maybe-, much like a culm of grass in a storm, and was replaced by a cold indifference.


    The door sprang to life and creaked open. A man in a dark green mantle with yellow embroidery and a clean white vest stood in the door. He had a tall but slender frame, some muscles under the clothing were faintly visible. He had a clean shaven beard and thin black spectacles situated on his sharp nose. He had short black hair that complemented his lightly tanned skin. He looked extremely versed and held his posture with elegance but not the least bit of arrogance. Neither his dark brown eyes hid such.


    His dark shoes tapped on the stone ground as he closed in on me.


    Sly eyes probed me with their cunning gaze. I retaliated with a fierce gaze of my own, infused with bloodlust and wrath. The man paled slightly and gasped for a moment. He looked at me again and raised his hands up. "It''s alright, I have no bad intentions.", he said while showing me a genuine smile.


    Inside his framed glasses I saw a severe youth, broad chest, covered in grueling wounds that boiled hot with infection. Fresh wounds dipped his body into a bloody mess. A massive yet chipped horn grew from his head, it had an intense aura surrounding it, as if it would startle awake and hunt you in your nightmares. I bit my lower lip as I saw the intimidating figure of this youth, namely me, alone in his glum quarter.


    I lowered my guard a bit and asked, neither aggressive nor torpid. "So... what do you want, marquis...", I placed emphasis on the word marquis, his position was just to high to meet with a slave, and I made it clear I wanted to know why he still did so.


    "Honestly, I was rather appalled by the idea but... wait, could you tell me your name first?", he asked.


    "I got no obligation to.", I answered flat.


    The man sighed and a hint of simpathy was in his gaze. "I guess you are right...", he murmured silently while cupping his right fist into his left palm.


    He cleared his throat, held one hand against his Adam''s apple and spoke once again.


    "This request might seem foolish, yes incredibly so, but please hear me out.", he nearly pleaded in a helpless voice. I nodded faintly. "This request of mine, it is up to you whether you accept or not but I promise you your life will be better than it is now.", he paused for a moment, let the words sink in. I nodded again and gestured him to continue.


    "My daughter... seemingly took a fancy to you...", he scratched his head and I gazed at him with wide eyes. "She wants you to become her butler, servant, friend? Whatever... So... what do you say?", his voice drifted down on the last part and his tall frame looked now incredibly small and weak, even his face looked old and pallid.


    "Pfffft.... hahahahahaha! Hyrion, Hyrion is my name.", I laughed out loud. This father was just to pathetic to lie and to loving too. "I would love to see the girl that could make a man like you submit. She forced you didn''t she?", I asked in good humour.


    "Hyrion is it? Nice ring to it. And yes... she is the devil.", a weak smile crept on his face. The smile spoke of defeat.


    He turned and leaned his upper body into the hallway. With a strict yet loving tone he shouted. "Ciera, Miril, come here for a second. Where is my dear Clara?"


    As he shouted these names I could hear the faint pitter patter of tiny feet on the stone floor. It sounded like tiny raindrops hitting on the hard stone ground. It stopped when two small figures appeared at the door and peeked through.


    The girl at the front, the older one I supposed, could hardly reach my chin. She had a head full of smooth brown hair and equally chestnut brown eyes like her father. Inside her eyes I could see a dangerous bloodlust that waited to be released. It was less from her gaze filled with anticipation and cruelty but more on a spiritual connection between two of the same batch.


    For a moment I thought this was the only girl but a few moments of awkward silence later and a pained expression on both the girl''s and the father''s face, another girl emerged behind the back of the first girl.


    She was small compared to me, barely reaching my chest. Long waves of golden strands stretched over her meek shoulders. She had a white one piece dress on that highlighted her azure eyes and amde her the embodiement of innocence. Her weak trembling and the tears glistening in her eyes made her only more pure and precious.


    The way both girls stood, so close to each other, my first thought was that they are sisters but the finned hands of the blonde girl and the lack of intensity in her glare made them abstract to much to be related genetically.


    A uncomfortable silence persisted in the room.


    "So what do you say? Do you agree?", the marquis asked.


    I just looked at him baffled. "Yeah, I really did NOT want to know who these two young ladies are, I really did NOT want to...", uncharacteristically of me my tone was filled with bite.


    "Oh I forgot!", the man exclaimed and hit himself on the head. ''Not good in hiding his emotions, a honest idiot. But how did he become a marquis then? Hum...'', I thought to myself. I never fully trusted this person, in fact I wouldn''t even trust a small kid that was whining on the street for its mommy, not after all what had happened... That he was a marquis and ''played'' the innocent fool only fuelled my distraughtness.


    The man put his hands on the brown-haired girl''s shoulders. "This is my eldest daughter, Ciera.". The girl vigorously nodded her head up and down while holding out an outstretched hand. "Nice to meet you!", she downright shouted. I gently shook her hand. "Yeah... n-nice to meet you.". ''Ah... I am no good with such people.'', it was the truth it only exasperated me to talk with such lively people. I need my time, my own relaxed atmosphere to work properly. The only exception was a bloodbath.


    Out of the corner of my eyes I saw two round sapphires peeking through its veil of gold, timid and abject. The blonde girl''s body was trembling slightly.


    The reason for her shyness was not without cause.


    The man went behind Ciera and pulled the blonde girl forth, with one hand he pushed her to the front. "This is my youngest daughter, Miril!", an expression of pure joy flashed across the girl''s face as the man said ''daughter''.


    She made not even the slightest attempt to greet me and I did not hold it against her. I took the initative -before we stay here for any longer-.


    "Hello my name is Hyrion, nice to meet you.", I tried to talk as anodyne as I could but to no avail.


    The girl, Miril, stared at my calloused hands with wide eyes, her sight fluttering between my own eyes and the outstretched hand. Panik was written all over her face and the long strands of gold tremored as her whole body started to tremble.


    I followed her switching gaze and looked at my own calloused hands. A bit of shame welled up inside of me. How could I think such a fine girl would take the weathered hand of a foreign youth, a slave and demon nonetheless.


    I might have been a slave but my manners were not forgotten. MAybe it was precisely because I was a slave, Being mindful of every movement you make around strangers, not showing the slightest hint of disrespect. I became an obedient little lapdog; I realized.


    A heavy sigh escaped my lips and my arm dangled down from my side.


    Father and sister gave the girl a slightly disappointed look, the person in question was still squirming in place, trembling but no other motion whatsoever. Her eyes were turbid and cast on the grey floor. The air turned chilly and an awkward disposition spread through me.


    It wasn''t that I was particularly bad with other people, or the years of torture turned me numb for social contact. I was right now a simple young boy standing awkwardly before a young girl while scratching his cheek.


    "Haa... I am sorry, she is a bit shy.", a mutual cheek scratching began between me and the father.


    "No, it''s alright.", I answered with my honest feelings. I was not upset or anything, in fact I pitied the girl a bit. She was sure to be alone for a long time.


    I gave the father and especially Miril a reassuring smile.


    The man wanted to bombard me with the same question as before as he raised his finger and opened his mouth. But before a single syllable left his mouth hurried footsteps clung from outside. Two footsteps, heavy and graceful.


    A gracious woman entered before the noise of footsteps assimilated into the silence.


    She had long dark brown hair reaching down to her waist, it was braided on one side. She had a long black robe covering her tall and slender body. Her eyes were a golden brown colour that was accentuated by her abnormally pale white skin. Her eyes were slightly droopy but looked as gentle as that of a saint. Her former deep red lips were a light pink that seemed to be drained of nurturing blood.


    Once she entered she ruffled Ciera''s short brown hair, kneeled and gave her a kiss. She did the same with Miril who looked now more worried than anxious, even her shuddering body came to a sudden stop.


    ''She has to be Clara... What kind of illness does she have?'', I was rather intrigued by this world''s diseases so the woman peaked my interest quite a bit.


    And then behind her stood the man I despised the most.


    The fat shot in every direction with each slow and heavy step he took. A beastial growl rang whenever the obese man breathed through his rattling mouth. Sweat gathered between the steaming folds of fat and skin. His two lone strands of hair on his calvous head danced with his irregular heartbeat that suffered from the yellow blubber suffocating the heart in a lethal deadlock.


    The mustache on his upper lip dripped with smelling sweat, the entrance of the man made the latrine in the corner smell and look like a flowerbed.


    Everyone had an appalled expression on their faces, except for the woman. Although I noticed a glimmer of hate in her eyes it might have been that she just hadn''t the energy to express it on her face anymore.


    "S-so, who wanted what?!", the excuse of a human being was resting on the doorframe and panted like a bitch in heat.


    "Hooo, Duke Visor, so it was you...", the marquis Herenthal said with disdain lingering on the tip of his tongue.


    "We thought we could buy of your slave...", the marquis'' wife said, pangs visible with each word and furhter underlined as she termed me as ''slave''. ''She s a good person, probably.''.


    "P-PAH NEVER!", the duke chortled with wide eyes as his mouth dripped disgusting saliva with each word.


    "Viscount, I think you misunderstand. It is not your choice. He is slave, yes. But don''t tell me you forgot the basic rights of slavery? A slave can buy himself free, as long as the sum he earned surpasses the damage he has done in its full cost. From what scarce information I have come by Hyrion falls under the category of a warslave, which I can hardly imagine, no wars are raging around the human empires, not with demons of course. I don''t know which papars you have falsified but I digress.


    And because he is considered a warslave he abides by a ten year contract, minors by a seven year contract even if he reaches adulthood in these seven years. Translated into currency those seven years are worth 160 gold coins, the equivalent sum of what a five headed family spends in three years for their daily necessities. ", the marquis breathed in and swallowed.


    "W-wait a minut-!". "Stop right there, viscount!", the duke tried to retort but the marquis let him no breathing space.


    "These seven years can be further decreased by physical labour; even duels. The worth of each task has to be agreed upon by both parties and the value disbursed directly to the slave as per contract. So, can you tell me where today''s money for the duel is? Hyrion works in this establishment for two years already if what I heard was right, can you tell me where THAT money is? Or, don''t tell me, you let him work illegaly? There is no way that is true, right dear viscount?!", the marquis'' eyes narrowed into dangerous slits and bile foamed through them.


    "What are you hinting at?!", the duke grinded his yellow teeth in anger.


    "Well, we could go this way: From this day onwards Hyrion gets what he deserves and will buy himself free in five years maximum, or we go with this case to the court. Hyrion might remain as a slave but will be freed from your clutches. Of course I could buy him off of you, the slave status won''t be removed for the following year and this damned collar remains, but a year in good hands is better than a day in yours.", with a sigh the marquis finished his lecture over basic slavery.


    ''That guy is quite shrewed, I knew I had to be careful...'', as I thoguht so the aforementioned marquis turned his head to me.


    "What do you say, think I can buy your ass out of this hellhole?!", he said so with a slight crack on his lips.


    I considered. But in the end I couldn''t just agree so readily. I didn''t want to owe him. "I thank you for your kind offer but I decline, I would rather work my way out to the surface.", I cracked a slight smile as well.


    The viscount just glared at me threatingly, hungry for my free labour and the relieve of torturing my body. But it would soon come to an end.


    "Oh and before I forget,", the marquis was with one foot already out the door, his daughters and wife following him. "I just hope that you don''t forget that it is prohibited to kill a slave or threaten its life by any means as long as reachable countermeassures are not in place. I just thought you looked like a person that might forget this. I''d love to see your next fight Hyrion!", the last part was more directed to the viscount, conveying that he expects me to survive under the tyrannical thumb of the count.


    These were his last words as he left into the moist hallway and left behind a stupified slave, me, and a slaver that was pale from anger. He looked like burnt out charcoal.


    This was how I met Miril and her family. I first didn''t expect to meet her any time later but since then we started meeting each other. Every fight was followed up with lovely cuddling. My life did not only turn better but also harder. The viscount injected periodically a lethal poison which antidote had to be earnestly worked for. IT had no side effects, the marquis made sure of it after hearing about what the viscount schemed.


    Ha, what am I saying? My life got better a whole lot!


    I won''t hide it, I love Miril! I might be a slave but who cares?! And guess what...


    With a wide smile on my face I waited for my last fight, against the knight Ash. It would be my last fight as a slave, after that I would have paid off my non-existent debt created by non-existent documents.


    My body leaned against the cold iron bars of the ''waiting room'' and for what seemed like an eternity suddenly came true. Slow footsteps echoed in the hallway bordering to the cell.


    With anticipating eyes I stared for the languid knight that would any moment enter. And there he was, back crooked and stride without any ingenuity. A sad sight of a knight.


    His armor clamored with the same rythm as the keys in his hands. Those rusty keys shone as brightly as the morning sun, its metallic smell was as refreshing as lavender and roses adn its obnoxious rattling was as harmonous as the chirping of angelic birds.


    I thoguht I drooled from joy as the keys unlocked my cell. I had to hold myself back to jump into the arms of the knight and give him a straight out smooch; he didn''t knew it but for me he looked like the messiah''s right now, a messiah in grey armor and a repulsive face.


    With vigor directed for the coming fight I shot up from my kneeling position, my goal was clear. I would fight, and win. And then I shall shout sweet freedom through my hoarse throat, to the skies, and enjoy it like golden honey!

 Chapter 016: Dragons Requiem

    (A chapter! WOW! ''How can that be, oh great author?'', you might ask. I tell you how, I found some time in between nerve-wrecking exams and painful studies! It was hard but it felt good to ease my mind once in a while! There might be some grammar mistakes but please blame it on my mental fatigue!


    Enjoy the chappy! :D )


    The low rattling of wood on hard ground echoed through the nightly air. Chilling winds blew over weather-worn roads, gaunt and coloured in a dirty mix of yellow and brown.


    Thick spruces with dark green needles flanked the doggerel road. The foliage swayed around in the freezing breezes, mimicking the divine prayers of hundreds, holding their hands up and adoring false Gods.


    The moon bathed the air in a silvery, opal light; a handful of fireflies danced around the grey lights and created a beautiful image of pure nature. With their bodies flickering like small torches they paraded as twinkling as stars through the clouded sky, circling around the sparse light the moon was gifting the still forest.


    As the wooden wheels met with dry foliage and sear needles a rythmic crackling consorted with the whispering wind.


    Those same wooden wheels supported dark carts. Only a  few shadows left the dark interior and as quick as they appeared they vanished into the warm safety of absolute darkness.


    It was not long after that a hooded figure peeked through one of the carts, long enough to make the moonlight sketch its contours without the figure noticing. Just a few gentle rays of silver light connected with the jade skin and as fast as they came they faded into nothigness.


    A sleek face with rosy dimples and tender red lips was slightly illuminated; a curtain of red hair draped the fairy being in a mantle of vermillion flames. Even the nearby fireflies hushed over to the fable creature and hoaxed around the blue eyes made of sapphire. The wind halted in its tracks, gazed at this miraculous fair maiden and dared not to call on its gales to make even a speck of dust appear on her skin. Nothing dared to approach this bud of pulchritude, that would someday topple kingdoms with its beauty, and smear its fairlec.


    For some this image would have invoked feelings of idolization and deep veneration. But those that gazed deeper into the twin seas of crystal blue, deep into the soul of the meek girl, saw nefarious hate and heinous desires. They coiled around her soul like feral spirits, taking on the form of giant wyverns and devouring each other. Further in between the mixture of roaring hate and borderline madness was a shivering speck of sadness and grief, suffocated by the giants made of crimson wishes.


    Those unfortunate firebugs, those that reached to deep into the aura of immaculacy, combusted into a firework of incarnadine flakes.


    "Tsk! Pesky insects!", a cold dejected voice escaped the rose petal lips of the young damsel. The voice was ghastly emotionless and riddled with bygone loss.


    As the words fell a sudden change took place.


    Where once rested the delicate skin of an innocent girl, pink and tender, an epitome of innocence, was prouding itself now with deep red scales, layering into an impenetrable bullwark of haemal coloured sheen.


    Countless of those red scales clustered over the girl''s cheeks into a triangular motive, each had one notably brighter scale topping it all off. The flaming scales, brightening up the dark as if it was day, made one think about the fiery eyes of a mighty dragon, starring holes into your soul, and as chance would have it, it was indeed of its kin.


    The once gentle eyes, beady and pure, contorted into fell slits, cruel and inanimate. A tad of ruby red confined the sapphire blue pupils in a ring of fire that threatened to consume the warm sea of azure that laid within.


    A paramount desire of strength walloped in those same eyes, a powerful desire that throned on top of love and kindness, that built up on the ruthlessness of its bearer and grew only stronger with the passing of time. It was an emotion that surfaced by the eschewal, the loss, of a loved one -of many loved ones-. It made this young blossom wither into a construct of vile thorns that only wanted to kill and feast on its cold revenge.


    In a sense it made the beautiful girl, now feral and with bestial features, contrast with herself. A burning desire for unspeakable power stemming from biting cold apathy.


    Soon after the girl stretched her tired neck and the draconic traits on her face vanished, with a sigh. A tender hand gripped her shoulders and pulled her back into the safe interior of the dark cart.


    "You idiot! What if someone had seen you?!", a scolding, strong yet feminine, voice lectured the young girl.


    The speaker was covered in the blackness of the cart, only a female ring around the shade was discernible. As her body was seemingly melding into the shadows a rough outline could not be recreated, only equally brilliant blue eyes, much like the girl, could be seen.


    "Tch! It''s not like anyone would come close to these cursed lands...", the girl retorted in an aggressive tone and hit the cart with her fist. The wood tootered and a light red bruise became visible on the girl''s hand, at the same time a large indentation and sharp splinters appeared on the wood. The girl''s actions and her tone made one think that the relationship between both figures was not favorable.


    "You know, I am only worried about you, about us...", a single hot tear poured out of the figure bathing in darkness. Hundreds of emotions packed into this single drop of salty liquid that was the manifestation of human sadness. Like crystaline glass it bursted open as it hit the ground and diffracted the dying light into numerous colours.


    "What do you even know! You traitor! You let them die! You let her die! YOU! You should have taken her place instead!.....", under the accumulated and surpressed stress the dam of emotions showed the tiniest of cracks and made old emotions resurface. With great resolution the girl tried to keep her emotions in check but spiderwebs of tiny fractures made the dam leak further and further, each drop of emotion as hot as magma. The voice of the young girl cracked and two streams of tears flowed freely from her pearly eyes without her noticing. The boiling drops pelted on the wooden planks like hail. The wood groaned in sorrow as though it commiserated with the poor creature, weak and fragile as a sheet of glass.


    "I won''t try to deny it. I betrayed you, I betrayed everybody! But I won''t breach the promise I made with your mother. I will protect you; both of you!", the dark figure shifted its gaze at a shivering body in one of the carts corners. Even through the thick darkness the sleek, black-bluish hair was visible. "You can hate me all you want, but I will keep my promise!", brazenly the woman talked about betrayal, a past disaster, and yet her eyes were placid, unwavering like a bastion of calm.


    The girl on the other hand turned into an emotional wreck, a ship that was tempest tossed and wanders the stormy sees, all alone and without a course. The only light she could remember, her only beacon of security, was the memory of a single youth, his passionate gaze and the comfort he provided. But alas destiny is cruel and made her watch as he was ripped from her arm''s reach, to never be seen again; in a literal sense.


    It might have been the desperation that she felt at that moment, that surfaced so vivid like it did on the cursed day, that made her reach out with her tender hands and grasp the mirage of the long gone boy that whispered her sweet lies. She was so close but in the last moment the image vanished into thin air, left a bleack spot of empty space, humming with dripping forlorness.


    Pangs of sorrow seared through her eyes, blinded by it she didn''t, or couldn''t, notice the two hands that were twirling around her body.


    With nearly unnoticable movements the figure pulled the pule girl into a deep intimate hug.


    The girl shivered slightly but eased up soon enough and pressed her teary face into the bossom of the female figure. With sniffs and snot she bemoaned the things she lost and made way for all the pain and sadness she kept in her heart.


    "I will protect you, you and your brother...", the figure whispered into the girls ears, a mantra of security. The prayer-like whisper faded with the wind and the rattling of the carts outside into nothing more than a sonorous humming.


    Like that the wooden caravan continued to clatter over the uneven ground. Dark brown horses neighed and let their caudates whip through the frigid air as they troted into the full moon, blurring at the horizon behind a blanket of grey clouds.


    ------------


    My sights were glued on the knight, gripping me by my collar and pulling me out of my cell, with violence. Some might think I would be angry, but how could I? This would be my last day in this hellish prison, my last day to eat rotten food scraps from the muddy ground, my last day to kill and consume the steaming flesh of those that were unfortunate enough to cross my path in dark corners, my last day to drink a thick soup of brakish water and feces, that tore my throat and made my stomach bloat with intense cramps. Yes, this would be my last day after which I will once again be able to taste sweet sweet freedom


    Cumbersome the man moved through the narrow passages with me in tow, every now and then he would give me a menacing look over his shoulder and check if I still followed him, which I complied.


    We were walking a straight path, the knight gave me a look backwards and abruptly his eyes widened in shock. Suddenly the knight began to frantically gyrate with his arms in a pathetic fashion as his body leaned forward and his eyes trailed behind. His foot slipped on the wet stone and before he fell face first into the ground he swirled his arms to find his balance. Regrettably, not, it was already to late.


    With a deep clonk he mashed himself deep into the floor.


    For a split second he did not move and I went through the odds of him being able to die from such a fall, luckily I hadn''t to worry about him as a pained groan escaped the prone knight, it was muffled but the pain was clearly audible in a low voice.


    With shaking arms he straightened his craned back and gave me a searing look with capricious eyes.


    A large bloody gash adorned his nosebridge, it pulsated vividly and oozed out large amounts of blood between burst skin and splittered bone. The throng of blood painted his lower face and his chest mail in a bright red.


    Although his eyes were switching between a look of killing the slave that was barely holding in his laughter or bury his face in shame, I was still unable to retain my poor facade.


    Goblets of spittle flew through the air as I bursted out laughing like a dying horse, literally, it was not a pleasant sound. It was a cacophony of a dying rattling noise and intermittent coughs. Even on earth my laugh was cringeworthy.


    The knight''s face was crimson in shade and his eyes were bloodshot. His jugular bulged in a vivid purple and beads of sweat crowned his brow. Licking his blood smeared lips and smacking them together like a rabid dog he directed one hand towards his sword, hanging loosely at his waist, and glared daggers at me.


    My disfigured laugh briskly halted with a sharp last cough, it sounded much like a broken recorder that tried its best to render voices from ten years ago, but failed miserably in doing so.


    I gave the knight a crooked smile, my sharp canines were displayed in its full pearl white magnificience. Those fangs of mine cut two deep nicks into my lips, the wide smile turned into a terrifying mask of cruelty.


    I tried to kick up the gear and made my smile widen a notch. The corners of my mouth ripped like crows'' feet, it hurt like a bitch but this sudden urge to scare the man in front of me shitless was just to overwhelming.


    ''Terror'', the only way to describe the man''s expression. From a flame red his complexion turned into a pale white tinged with a vomit green. It was hilarious.


    The man''s legs gave way and he fell on his butt, yellow liquid seeped out of his metal garments that trembled like weak oaks in autumn. In his fear he forgot the collar that would prevent me from any underhand action against the knights or anyone in the vicinity, but whatever.


    "I know where to go from here.", I told the knight slovenly, not a tad of penitence in my voice, I was, after all, pretty proud with my work.


    "Oh and that...", I pointed at the puddle of piss under the man''s ass. "I don''t think your sword will help against that.", I chortled and turned my back towards the shivering beggar of a man. Only now did he notice that he was still holding onto his puny sword. ''Boy, that won''t even be able to scratch me.'', I thought and laughed out loudly in my mind.


    My smile vanished from my face as I walked straight through the dark corridors, at some point the wounds on ym face completely sealed themselves. This self-regeneration ability of mine was spectacular. Only wounds that went straight into the flesh and bones would leave knobbly scars but even the worst of fractures would heal correctly. On earth I would be a walking miracle.


    Alas this world isn''t earth and as much as I would like to explain my own constitution, it is just simply impossible. As far as I know there is no known organ that could change the raw energy of mana into tissue, it could be a solution if my body used mana in this process, but it didn''t.


    Ever since I grew those horns my physique turned abnormal. My body enlarged quite a bit and I stood now flat 5,7 feet (~173cm), my strength and overall durability and density of my body changed from normal into superhuman. If the volatile element of mana would come into play I could somewhat explain it, but it seems as if my body absorbed a third unknown source of energy, one that was not mana nor the essence in the air.


    It was mind boggling to me. Each and every logic I tried to explain this phenomenon with ended in absolute failure. It was simply impossible to apply earthly science on a world of magic and swords. I could remember some books and novels that talked about reincarnation and how the protagonist changed the world with his knowledge, social hierarchies and conventions were all overthrown. But in reality this is all but an impossibility. And I had to come to an understanding.


    Freeing myself from the toiling thoughts, stuffing my mind with uneeded ideas, I closed in on a shining gate. The corridor widened and revealed the glittering wall of grey steel that towered intimidating in front of me. All I saw was my ticket to freedom in this symbol of ligation, that tried to oppress me and break my will.


    Two knights stood at each side and only glimpsed at me with disinteressed faces, until they saw that the knight escorting me was missing. Their swords instantly drew out of their scabbards and a human barricade blocked my way.


    Although I still had the collar on me and thick chains clung to my feet, a trademark of mine, I was in no way defenseless.


    I could only give a ridiculing sneer and gave the four knights, each of them, a bone-chilling glare.


    "That guy is ok, he only pissed himself a bit.", I snickered before the last word fell.


    "What did you do, you demon?", one of the knights asked, trembling and clenching his sword with both of his hands.


    "I really didn''t do anything, that guy is just dumb. Who slips on the ground and breakes his nose? Seriously, he is just stupid.", I didn#t even try to mince my words, that guy was honestly stupid. Tripping like a moron and breaking his nose.


    Of course the schadenfreude in my voice couldn''t be concealed.


    "Now, open the gates. A fight is waiting for me and I''d rather not keep looking at your faces, lest you want me to vomit right here on the spot.", Oh how I enjoyed my last day here.


    Ever since the marquis cleared my circumstances and made me a legitimate slave the knights behaved less radical, right before a fight they mostly didn''t even lay a hand on me. After all the abuse would be visible for the whole rows of spectators once I step outside.


    They could only gnash their teeth. One rembling knight pointed with his chin into teh hallway behind me. "Go, look for that guy.". "Allright.", a flat dialog; and with that finished the addressed knight stood up and jogged into the damp maze of winding paths.


    I wanted to call out to the knight, threaten him, humilate him but my words were cut short by a druming noise outside. ''It begins.'', I mused to myself.


    "TODAY, YOUR BELOVED ASHURA WILL BE FIGHTING ONCE AGAIN! WITH THE STRENGTH OF A BULL AND THE WITS OF A FOX, WILL HE BE ABLE TO BEAT ASH? THE KNIGHT IN SILVER, THE NOTORIOUS DRAGONSLAYER, A PRODIGY WITH THE SWORD. WELCOME, ASH THE SILVER DRAGON!!!!!!!!!!!!!".


    ''Wow....'', I gulped heavily as a slight tremble went through my body. This was more than Eirich told me yesterday. I expected some dandy prince charming, an idiot with the sword that solely relies on technique. A virtous knight in white, a keeper of self-proclaimed justice. But what I got instead was a supposedly ''dragonslayer''. If what I imagine under dragon was slain by this ''Ash'', then I was sure to have a good fight waiting for me.


    This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.


    Incredibly loud cheers erupted from behind the gate, small pebbles dropped from the ceiling as the whole building started to shake. The stampeding feet calmed down only after a minute or two, preventing my ears from spontaneously combusting into flames from the incessant noise.


    As before the gate took its sweet time to open up, leisurely and without a real hurry. It creaked and moaned like an elderly man that was trying to snatch his glasses from the ground. It was a painful time to just wait and twidle my thumbs.


    Ungodly seconds later the gate finally revealed the patched up arena, countless fights left their marks on ground and walls alike and only the most bare of reconstructions made the encirclement not collapse on itself. In a sense it was dangerous but gave the arena its own little charm.


    My first foot stepped out from the shadows and into the burning midday sun. Without shoes I could feel the scorching sand and dust beaneath my feet slowly burning into my soles.


    With hurried steps a slim youth came running over. A thin collar wrapped around his throat and marked him as a slave. With great effort he carried a massive sword over the ground. Tears of sweat formed on his face as he reached me with exhausted gasps. Fatigue was written all over his face and the thin linen cloth covering his body was drenched in reeking sweat.


    I grimaced over the stench and accepted the sword with an affirmative nod. The young man''s eyes lit up as though he has seen his life''s idol, which I probably was. It made me uncomfortable and I felt myself dug my feet into the ground in embarassment. Mind you, I am not antisocial but if someone looks at you like a God it gets kinda uncomfortable. Can''t even undertand how all those celebrities can withstand such emotion filled glares.


    My trusty broadsword was rocked in my arm much like a baby would. It was not the sharpest, not the most beautiful, but it packed a punch that no other sword could compare to. This rough slab of iron was a mirror of my own stalwartness, unrefined but unyielding. The countless battles left their blooddrenched marks on the sword but with pride it endured the whole nine yards of damage that was done to it. It might have been an inanimate object but it incorporated the truest of the warrior''s heart.


    Breaking my gaze with the sword I let it skid over towards the opposing entrance. My heart somewhat expected the haughty noble boy dressed lavishly in silver plates to exit from this dark cave but against all odds the exact opposite came true.


    A man, tall and muscular yet clearly agile in his movements stood in the gate. A combination of leather and ash grey plates covered his body, it looked savagely but served its purpose.


    The man was roughly forty years old with a head full of grey hair. His face was stern and somewhat wrinkled but it exuded a battlelust comparable to absolute beasts. His dark brown eyes starred holes through my body and his brawny arms and hands clenched tightly around a silver longsword and a thick bullwark of a shield. If you are proficient with the shield there is simply no need for massive armors that covered every part of your body.


    I got the same feeling from him as from a veteran commander, strong and resolute, just but strict.


    ''Did Eirich lie to me or was he simply misinformed? No, how can somebody overlook this?'', I asked myself and wanted to scream at the same time.


    No matter how i lookeda t the situation, the man infront of me was a pro, a veteran, in fighting. Through five years of daily killing I could tell if a person had obvious opennings, if their stance was correct and if they had the muscles to support the techniques. And this man, this warrior, had all of it.


    There was not one discernible openning that I could exploit, not even a taunt, verbal or physical, would do me any good, I was sure of it.


    And then it happened.


    "Hello my dear fans! How are you today?!", the scarred knight voiced out in a high pitched tone, a jolly tone.


    And for a moment his whole persona changed. Opennings everywhere, I couldn''t even traced the least bit of danger from this ''clown''.


    It slowly dawned onto me, that guy was a monster. Playing the innocent role in public and then being ruthless in fights. The whole bragging was probably true and not some hokum I thought it was after seeing the man with my own eyes. He just palyed the role of a fool perfectly. Those that experienced the fight would have no way to tell the tale of it. And I doubt those bloodcrazed spectators, all brawn and no brains, would even begin to fathom the sheer might of this man''s techniques.


    Some people may think an observant spectator might derive some of the subject''s idiosyncrasies just from watching; I call it bullshit! You have to experience the fight first-hand, be in the fray and face your foe, and not slump down on your ass and watch two people brawl it out and now you think you know all their quirks.


    "To all the gentleman, and ladies!", he winked. "This fight is for you! And I hope you will enjoy it!", he turned around while giving a large bow.


    With his smile still clinging weakly onto his face he gazed at me.


    "Boy, let''s get serious...", the same man from before stood now before me, unwavering and massive like a boulder. I doubted that even my father had the same prowess as this man, but I might be wrong.


    A deep tinge of sadness bore its fangs into my heart but with a quick slap on my cheek I woke up from my self-inflicted stupor.


    Ash stood on the same spot, tall and threatening, and waited for my first move. Before another second passed I sprinted forward, the large sword blazing behind me in a trail of stone grey.


    I pushed all manners of defense aside and simply engaged like a madman with the notorious ''dragonslayer'' Ash. I could see his teeth gleaming beneath a wide smile as he eyed me amusedly.


    To win against a professional you have to apply tactics that no one would even think about. You have to discard your sanity, hold hands with madness and simply fight. There was no way I could win this fight, my rational mind told me as much. Even with a body of herculean strength and speed, a sharp knife could pierce through my muscles, in between my bones, and into my heart. Instant death was all that awaited me.


    But what happens if you just ignore all kinds of tactics, everything that people hold as the norm, and indulge in craziness? You become unpredictable, a thorn sticking in their sides that won''t let loose no matter what. And I would do the same.


    Like a shooting star I smashed violently on the ground. Ash''s eyes narrowed into observant slits. I did not let him wait long as I once again emerged from the rising cloud of dust. With a massive overhead slash no more, no less. It was an attack so stupidly slow and brutish that anyone, yes even a child, could have dodged or blocked it if they had the ability to do so. But think of yourself in my opponents shoes. You are a veteran in melees presumably. And the opponent you face is the same as you, cold-blooded, calculating and yet fervent and unrelenting in his attacks. But what happens now when this same opponent, one you think highly off and expect exquisite tactics no less, dashes straight forward like a pricked baboon? You would be confused.


    There was no tentative side stepping, probing each others attack range and constitution, no circling around each other, only a simple straight forward attack. It would be the same as if a waiter comes to your table to bring your food but instead of your main course he delicately slams the desert right into your face!


    I gnashed my teeth and let my arm sear through the air. The hot summer sun beamed on my back as I crouched mid-air with the swing. Like a hammer hitting an anvil the massive broadsword connected with the ashen shield in a firework of golden sparks.


    I felt the earth crumble around our position and light quakes travelled through the ground. I had no idea how Ash could withstand this blow but after seeing his wide grin and those brilliant white canines sticking out I felt a chill creep down my spine. I wanted to retreat but when I heard a silent prayer leave Ash''s lips I knew it was to late.


    In a moment''s notice a white circle appeared beneath Ash''s feet. His silver eyes turned into a blinding white and the leather strips holding his armor together suddenly tensed up. I saw his muscles swell between the small gaps, hot and pulsating with red hue.


    Before I could even gasp in surprise the large bastard sword in his left smashed square onto my chest with its flat side. With the little mana that still cursed through my veins, a small impetus of mana that was free from the collar''s restrictions but not enough to change the natural laws as I will it, I could faintly discern the changes that took place in the air. The sensation of steam being drawn into a large vortex all around Ash. I had little time to observe this phenomenon before I made the mana in my veins bubble up to their maximum. I found it out while killing all those people prior. The mana in my body could strengthen it to some point, it was unexplicable.


    BANG BANG BOOM!


    I skittered across the earth like a pebble over the water, each impact causing small ripples on the ground, and pierced straight into the arena''s walls.


    My bones ached and my organs stirred from the kinetic energy that travelled through their mushy flesh. Acidic bile left my throat and splattered all over the ground, a tinge of blood was present as well.


    Eyes tearing from the stench I tried to close them, but what a fool I would be!? I endured through the sour stench and stood up with trembling legs. I glimpsed over my shoulders and saw a massive indentation in the wall which made me shiver instinctively.


    Like a foal I staggered forward, my sword left my hand but as loyal as it was it travelled nonetheless a long distance behind me like a subservient dog.


    I leaned forward to pick up the sword and groaned as my spine punished me for the painful movement. The tidbit of mana I used to enforce my body made me survive the brutal impact, but I doubted it would work a second time. Just so that you know, the mana that was being kept inside my body was the residue mana that the collar could not stop from leaking. I don''t know which process it used but the metal -or some other material- inside the collar made it absorb the ejected mana and the mana that rummaged inside my body. For a person like me who considered himself as some kind of mage it was quite a fatal instrument.


    Wrily I smiled at the blade that was for the hundreth of time grasped in my rough hand. I glimpsed from the sword into the mass of gaping onlookers, half disbelieving that I survived the blow. It took my only the fraction of a second to locate a certain blonde individual.


    ''Miril...'', I mused her name in my thoughts, silently I whispered for strength, strength that I found in the image of this fragile looking girl. Though weak and barely able to hold a sword she confronted me each day with a warm smile, no matter what atrocities I comitted. She did not ignore my quirks, she accepted them. There is no way I could hide the slaughter I time and time again caused in the slave house whenever my mind went to the deep and dark recesses. The stench of blood was sometimes so heavy around me it was odd that a person wouldn''t think about a gruesomely mutilated corpse walking past them. I kept my rational, but some things inside of me are broken. Well broken would not be apt to say... they disappeared. Thoughts, memories, emotions, some of them were simply lapped up by oblivion. I knew I changed, my thoughts were mostly happy and bright, but then other times... it would start. Febrile nights full of aching and crying, whailing and cursing; praying.


    Something deep inside of me was already dead.


    (The MC is not emotionaly stable of some of you might have guessed, you see how he goes from ''Happy-go-luck Oh my babe is here'' to ''Fuck this shit I would rather die!''. I just want to highlight that the MC is NOT unaffected by the life as a slave. In later chapters it will show more clearly.)


    I picked the sword by the far end of the hilt and let it glide through my palm. It felt good, the raspy leather bound to the hilt felt so familiar and safe.


    Ash was just standing there, arms raised up and shouting and laughing loudly. "HAHAHAAH! THAT IS THE LEGENDARY ASURA?! WHAT A JOKE!", as his voice trailled of the crowd errupted in cheers and chaotic laughter.


    "What a joke that boy is.", "Asura?! He is just another demon slave!", such phrases boomed down from the levied seats.


    For some odd reason I didn''t feel particular hate for Ash, his eyes respected me as a fellow warrior, but those people! Those people that randomly spit out their thoughts, drenched in dribble and maliciousness, as if they knew it all; I couldn''t forgive those people.


    My once pale face flared as the heat resurged into my body. Pain burned from my horn all the way down to my face, a pain that ate away my skin and flesh. The dark scar, the tribal stigma, I had forgotten about it. I had forgotten about the vision, the transformation that sparked from eternal hate and thirst for carnage.


    With great effort I surpressed my emotions, unshouted screams were silenced in my throat. But I knew it was futile, so instead of surpressing these emotions I used them as a fuel. A fuel for my victory.


    An animal becomes its strongest once cornered.


    The still steaming Ash grinned as my eyes radiated a crimson light that even I could make out. The mixture of smaragd and ruby light, flashing intensely, made dread sprout around me like little daisies.


    My bones cracked as I shot forth. the sword trailed behind me like the tail of a massive leviathan and it struck with the same speed. Shaking the whole arena by its massive power I clashed with Ash''s trusty iron shield.


    Blood dripped through my orifices, my eardrums burst from the reveberating boom and even my brain was sent into a violent ride of vibrations.


    Ash''s shield, this ash grey bullwark, did not show the slightest inclination of breaking even though my blow hit like thunder.


    I gnashed my teeth, still flying atop of Ash and holding me up only with the force of my arm, I pressed harder.


    SPLURCH!


    A slight pain, An ashen light. A red trail.


    Why? Why did I always forgot the sword of his?!


    "Boy, this shield is made of dragon bones, scales and skin. You think your toy can break this?!", he laughed.


    Skewered on his sword I could only raised the corner of my lips in a sarcastic smile. As I stood now so close to Ash In could indeed see it. Thin, unnoticable scales layered atop of the shield, they formed a defense that would put any metal on earth to shame.


    I saw the reflection of my face in the shield. Scarred, bloody and exhausted. The portrait of juvenile joy and idleness was replaced by a youth, a man, that experienced the hardships of this world the hard way.


    If I had protected them; if I had only died early on, ravaged by the beast; if I hadn''t been reincarnated, what was my point even?!


    My last moments were dry and demure. I fought rancorous against my death countless times already. Who had the aspiration to keep going after this, this.... yes, what was it even?


    With my hand gliding down the sharp blade, cutting my skin open, I trailed all the way down to Ash''s hand. He trembled suddenly, I felt it through the metal and the contact with his fingers.


    "Open your hand...", I whispered.


    As if an unknown force beckoned him, a force from the heavens, he did as I commanded.


    The sword left his hand and he stood there, one palm pointed to the heaven, and I slightly staggered backwards from the released force.


    With known movements I gave him a low-five, motioned him to make a fist, and gave him a fist bump. What prompted me to do such a thing, I don''t know, I just felt like it.


    "This is how we say goodbye from where I come from. Remeber it.", I told him.


    The world turned upside down and suddenly I starred at the sky, my head hurt and breathing became hard. My hair felt like a bird''s nest and sweat formed in small puddley all over my body. Blood stained my chest and made a small altar of crimson under my body, with a mighty grey obelisk situated in the middle. It strangely enough remembered me of my first death.


    I was tired and just did what I ought to do. I closed my eyes and waited as I did on the faited day, fearing what would come next. Regrets? One or two. I still hadn''t told Miril I love her, and I did. And I hadn''t found my family, if they are even alive.


    Those were only two regrets but they were heavy ones. Ones that would follow me into my next life, I knew it somehow.


    My last fire''s extinguished out of existence. The dragon drew his last breath...


    (The new Arc should begin in the next chapter! Sorry i you think that Hyrion is a dumb fuck that is more of a muscle head than a rational thinker. But as said prior, deep rooted hate and wrath tainted his judgement.)

 Chapter 017: What pain does to you.

    (Yo! Some of you might think I died, but that didn''t happen! I am alive and well, happy christmas btw. I know I am reeeeaaaaallllllyyyyy late with the chapter, it was finished weeks ago but it was missing something, it still does. Some of you might think Hyrion is a badly designed character, he will change his mind multiple times in this chapter alone, but that''s what happens when five years of your life are spent as a puppet for torturing and other nasty things, won''t go to deep there, still want to retain some of my readers.


    Next chapter will be conclusion and then probably the one afterwards a mature chapter, you know what I mean? Bao Chicka Wao Wao!


    Enjoy this chappy, I really hope you do as I am still unsatisfied but don''t seem to get my mind around it!)


    "Hoh... Here again it seems, what happened this time?", a deep voice drilled into my spinning mind.


    The sweet release of death was making me wait, for once I somehow felt angry about not dying. My life was to tenacious it seems.


    Although I felt that I was alive, the pain, the pressure, it was cursing over my body and enveloping me in a cocoon of agony. My body was fatigued and made it expressable by the weights that were seemingly clinging onto me like latching leeches. It was a pressure that compressed my organs and tissue, threatening to squish me into a bloody pulp of bones, flesh and blood.


    "Not gonna answer?", the deep voice inquired. The mere soundwaves were enough to make my whole being stirr.


    Should I open my eyes? Should I even continue on living? I thought the human would be a creature that strived for survival, kept itself living with any means possible, but right now, what I wanted was the simple and deep slumber of death.


    Don''t misunderstand me, I was not tired of living in itself, I felt myself cheating life. I died not once but twice and from the gist of the current situation I will continue living. It felt wrong. Maybe it was an instinctive emotion only those that died and were reborn again could feel, heck who could experience that?! I just thought it was wrong to keep living.


    "Haaaah....", I sighed deeply. If life wants me so dearly to keep on in the realm of mortals who am I to argue?


    "No, I can hear you. Hyat, why am I here again?", I questioned whilst openning my eyes. Standing a few meters in front of me was a gigantic beast, one that would haunt your dreams. Multiple pairs of arms crossed over a fleshless ribcage, their claws longer and thicker than whole oaks and covered in a dark red sheen, a sanguine heart was rabidly pumping what looked like black miasma through darkened veins, twelve wings folded on the spined back of the massive wyrm and a pair of horns adorned its skull, the crown of a death God. Hyat''s enormous maw cracked into an insidious smile, his foul canines, rotten but deadly, preyed on my small body with palpable bloodlust.


    His red eyes shooed over my body, my hair''s stood on end.


    "That''s what I''d like to ask you. There is no trial here for you, there shouldn''t be any connection between us anymore. I did my job...", his voice trailed off into a complaining tone, as though he was remonstrating over his job. A lithe smirk crossed my face as I imagined the mighty God of carnage as a post-office worker, contemplating the wrong decisions in his life over an ice cold beer at the bar next door.


    "Ohy! Why are you smiling like stupid?!", the jocular angry dragon rebuked me.


    "Nothing, nothing really. You asked what happened right? Well, I died, again...", this time it was me whose voice faded into an inaudible whisper. But of course the mighty God of Carnaged picked the sound up, be it as silent as it was.


    "Again? Boy, what are you talking about?", Hyat asked. I hesitated but my mouth moved on its own. For the first time in this life, or rather the life I had before being skewered for a second time, I told someone about me being reincarnated into this godforsaken world. The chance never presented itself to do so before.


    Beginning with my childhood, fluently I told him about the joys of the other world, how it worked and the incredible technological advancements, trains, busses, airplanes and even the development of the atomic bomb. For him it must have sounded like otherworldly mumbo-jumbo.


    I told Hyat about my adult life, my family and friends, my worries and dreams, aspirations, what I did with the little time I had over there, even what food I loved the most, francesinha. Before I knew it my stuttering and chopped phrases turned into an unstopable stream of ranting.


    Midway I broke down and cried, cried about my own death, the death of my friends that were burned to cinders or smashed by wooden pillars. I screamed and shouted at Hyat for God knows what reason. I told him how much I missed and still miss my family, how I repent watching my ''new'' family vanish before my eyes because of my own fecklessness, how I hated the humans and monsters that caused all this chaos, but in the end it was all me... Broken and alone I pleaded to him like the God he was, muttered inaudible prayers under my breath and hoped for a speck of light in these darkest days of mine.


    My eyes swelled and my vocie was raspy. With shivering limbs I crouched onto the deathly grey earth and found comfort under the branching trees, black and void of life. I hugged my body in my single arm, it felt feeble and weak; I realized just HOW weak I was. The sheer realization of your own powerlessness, the brisk recollection of all you did wrong, it agitated me, made my throat clench through unspoken curses and my veins red with caustic humour. I churned the earth with my fingers, dug my nails deep into the moist soil and ground the dirt into dust. My palm was red from blood, my nails hammered into my skin without resistance and infected it with the black soil.


    In a fit of purgatorial madness and the eviction of a gutural, gut-wrenching scream I hit the earth with my bare knuckles, over and over again. Incoherent mutters mixed with my red fury, bloodshot I starred at the flattening earth. Countless times I raised my fist, drew lentous lines of red blood from my skin and repeated the beating for the hundredth of times. It made my hand ooze blood from tiny cuts and trickle the grey earth in a vivid red but the power could not be siphoned from my choleric mind. I couldn''t stop myself, the raging madness that woke from its slumber. Killed, I was killed, I died, I lost my family, I lost my family again. What did I do to this world? Why, why was my fate so cruel? No, I did not ask these questions out loud, I let my fists speak. I smashed the earth, thought of it as the beast that lavished on the bodies of my family and friends, imagined its head turning into a red, black smoothie of gore through the continous sound of my fist pounding the earth.


    What felt like hours passed by, my mind froze in the fire of madness, made it stop briskely, and only then did I notice the snot and tears that mixed themselves into the red blanket. I felt like a puppet that had its strings cut. The power seeped from my limbs into the voracious earth I keeled onto, supported my body on this weak arm of mine and watched the muddy puddle of red. I saw my teary eyed reflection in this crimson mirror, a broken boy in which eyes an even more broken man mirrors, ''laughable'' I thought.


    I hated myself the most.


    For a while I just kneeled there, gazing at the inconspicuous red carpet. Others might have seen a boy in need of help in this pitiful image but I just wanted to kill myself for what I had become. This reflection, this whole self, I rejected it. ''How miserable I am.''. I regretted not telling Miril I loved her, but, what qualifications did I even have to tell her this in the first place?! I am a nobody, even death disregards my existence, so why should a vermin like myself even be allowed to enjoy the comforting warmth of another human being. Could I even count as humane?! The things I did, the things I lived through, I lost the right to call me human long ago.


    When I reached the lowest point, when I was disgusted by my own existence, it was no other than Hyat that awoke me from my self inflicted trance of self-loathing. His nostrils puffed out hot gusts of air, so hot that it pricked my skin and made me close my blood-shot eyes to hide them from the heat. I cowered backwards and fell on my butt.


    Hyat hemmed and I wiped the tears of my face. Some kind of odd curiousity swamped through my body, I wanted to ehar what he had to say. Resembling a lost child I looked at Hyat with upturned eyes, still red from crying, and a face that was greyed from the soil on my face-rubbing fingers.


    "Boy, why do you hate yourself?", it was a simple question, really, but it had countless answers which all were right but at the same time missed the real essence of the problem. I was weak, feisty, impulsive, wrathful, loving, forgetful, dormant in peril, active in peace, I was many things and more. But those things were what I hated about myself. Change one and my life would have taken a turn for the better, *cough*, my lives.


    "Everything.", I answered blatantly, there was nothing to add when I said everything, because I meant it.


    "Then, why don''t you change? Or are you afraid?"


    ''What?!'', my mind stopped for a second."PAH! Don''t come with this bullshit! Change? What do you think I have been doing all the time?! Afraid? Of what?! Just stop it with your philosophical fuck!", forgetting that it was Hyat that heard out my noisy pleas I angrily shouted at him.


    "I think you misunderstand,", his red eyes shone dangerously. "When I say ''change'' I mean it."


    "Huh?", I was confused.


    "You, you are from another world, a being that should not exist in this realm and all you do is live a normal life, or try to.", he chuckled, it remembered me that he was the God of Carnage and by that reasoning alone probably amused by my devastating story. "You try so hard to fit into this world, but for what reason? You are trying to be someone that you aren''t. Damn, you could become a God and wreck everything you hate about this world! Just fucking tamper with whatever you want, fuck some whores, drink until you blackout and kill some kings! Is it that hard? No! You are simply afraid!", he inhaled deeply, the alley of trees leaned over.


    "Boy, what do you want right now?"


    What did I want right now? I honestly did not know. I wailed myself into such a miserable state that my mind wasn''t functioning properly anymore. What did I want, what could I want? There were just to many things to count. I wanted my old life back, the life of old world Earth and the life of new world Elysium. I wanted to see my family, from both lives, drink and laugh with them, shaking hands in amiable brotherhood. I wanted to see what my parents, what those of the other world would say about this one and vice versa. I wanted to swim in a great ocean, I wanted to become a great magician, I wanted to show these people friendship and tolerance, I wanted to ride a dragon, I wanted to slay a dragon, I wanted to see elves, I wanted to see beastman, I wanted to fuck a princess or two, I wanted to ursupp a kingdom for these same princessess, I wanted to be king, I wanted to be a dotting father, I wanted to... I wanted to do so much, but was I allowed to?


    I laughed laconic.


    "I want so much..."


    "Then... FUCKING GET IT! DAMMIT!", Hyat shouted and the earth trembled.


    "It just won''t get into your thick skull won''t it?!", one of his giant claws clacked against his fleshless temple and I could swear a vein popped beneath his skull.


    "You are a being that is freed from its fate. You could be anything, but you choose a mundane life!? A Demon Lord, a Hero, a Grandmaster, anything is at your disposal and yet you choose the life of normalcy?! You dissapoint me Hyrion... For the love of God, stop being a whiney bastard, listen to your damned heart and do whatever it tells you! You want wealth? STEAL IT! You want woman? TAKE THEM! You want to live? WORK FOR IT! But no you are a little piece of waste. Another world, otherworldly knowledge, innumerable choices but this piece of shit decides on fucking around as some child of a peasant....."


    Hyat fumed and the slurs only fizzed from his fanged mouth, each and every kind of insult I could think of was thrown at my head. He ranted and ranted and somewhere inbetween I forgot all the sadness that washed over my heart, it was a cooling rinse but I knew that it was only temporary. The black scars, deep depression, would sprout from my heart like delicate saplings and grow into a thick brush of thorns. The time will come were I had to face my inner demons, for real.


    Feeling refreshed by Hyat''s spitt and bile fileld speech I gazed at him with a wide grin.


    "Thank you, Hyat."


    His insults stopped, he raised what I believed to be a brow and sighed. "You are way to young to thank me, kid.", he turned his head towards the black horizon. "Go scram. I will help you a bit with the problem ''outside'', but don''t expect much.... Fucking kids these day, only causing problems", the last part was the whipser of nothing more than an elderly man.


    His hulking body turned into the same direction as his head and soon he began to march into the darkness. Few steps later he vanished, all trace from him gone, expect for the giant imprints on the ground.


    "Thank you very much...", I whispered, and I knew Hyat would hear it.


    Black fumes rose from the ground and coiled around my body, unlike last time I could feel my body being drawn into a dark abyss but I only smiled...


    "Haaaaa.... That brat really makes some problems. But another world huh.... Should be better than this prison here. Maybe this is what Prometheus really looked for, a way to relieve his boredom, maybe he is experiencing the same as this brat does, who knows....", blood-red yet gentle eyes whispered into the darkness as they observed Hyrion''s descending figure into the void. With a small laugh they too became one with the blackness around them, only a wall of shadows remained.


    ------------


    It was this raven feeling, being suffocated beneath tons of damp, dark-brown earth that made me remember that I was alive once again. As the phoenix rebirths from the ashes so did I.


    The fervor blazed through my veins, mixing with my blood and making my skin bubble up, made the darkness recede and an intoxicating feeling blossomed from my core. The shadows parted ways, cleaved atwain by an unsatiable avarice for the riches of life. Hyat''s words were unrefined, bloody and barbaric, but they hold a simple truth in them.


    Why did I try so hard, tried so hard to fit into this world, that was never meant to be! I forgot what I really wanted to do, enjoy this life of mine, it was subverted by upholded morals that kept me from going haywire. I am in a fantasy world goddammit and I wanted to live a ''normal'' life. As the darkness parted ways from my incinerating vigor the first thing that came to my mind, the first thing I would do was to kill, and then kill some more. The pig, I would hunt him down like the animal he is. And then his family will pay, I really hope he has a beautiful daughter but I shouldn''t get my hopes up.


    Then I would find the beast that killed my family, and destroy, obliterate its very existence. I would erradicate it from the plane of being, disintegrate its soul. Yes, that sounded like a plan.


    The black crystal I kept close to my heart, that poisoned my ego, the pain made it erode into my innerst feelings and only Hyat''s words gave it the final kick. I tried to kept it bound to me, shackled it, but not today. Neither my instincts nor my morals, from today or from the past, will stand in my way of revenge, only insaity would be its final fuel.


    Bitter-sweet revenge, my tongue could taste it in the air.


    *GASP*


    With a bang the darkness vanished and limitless blue stretched before my eyes. In the corner the sun seared down onto the lowly life forms that walked this planet. I was blinded by the sudden change but a distinct pain, a pain so excruciating, startled me awake. It springed from my chest and it dawned on me, I was still impaled.


    There were still cheers around me, a chorus of voices cheering the name: ''ASH! ASH! ASH!'', again and again. Maybe it was my somewhat enhanced hearing or just an id¨¦e fixe that originated from my hate meshed mind, I swear I could hear a feeble scream, so faint, soundless even, yet so loud that it drummed into my ears like thunderclaps. ''Hyrion! Nooo...! Y-you can''t die! I love you, so please... please don''t die! Please don''t die... I won''t fogive you...''. I knew this voice and pangs of guilt assaulted my heart like hungry wolves


    Stolen novel; please report.


    ''I made my sweet Miril wait, didn''t I?'', what would be revenge without a woman to share it with?! ''A woman or two'',I licked my chapped lips.


    My hand moved autonomously, slid from the ground, from a weak twitching into a lightning fast blurring, onto my chest and gripped the protruding hilt of the silver bastard sword.


    Because I felt over onto my back the sword lodged itself deep into the earth and kept me anchored to the ground, all the while blood ooozed from my porcupined chest. My hand wriggled around the hilt and began to pull. Pain surged like electrical discharges through my body, I grit my teeth and continued tensing up.


    The sound of cheers began to transform, only a few people watched my limp body so it was those few that saw my ''resurrection''. Five, six peope at most changed from the cheering, into astonished and then disbelieving gasps. As their seat neighbors saw their partners changing expression they too followed their line of sights, and they too saw the impossible.


    "No way...", it was enhanced hearing after all..., a spectator whispered, unwilling to accept what was happening on this curst grounds. Was God''s reign overthrown?


    I was not like those anti-heroes in novels, I would announce my return with pomp and circumstances, not with shadows in candlelight.


    "HAAAAAH!", with a loud shout I made my own arm split gashes on its skin as the muscles exceeded their physical limits and pulsated through the red open skin. My bones blared and creaked, the intensity increased manyfold. Eyes bulged on the spectator seats and people leaned over with blustery shouts.


    *SCHLICK*


    A fountain of blood spew from my chest -What some people do with juice or coffee I do with my own blood, out of my ribcage-  and painted the ground in a dangerous crimson. Some people keeled over from the enormous amount of blood and guts.


    A highpitched shriek entered my ears, worried and relieved at the same time. "HYRION!", female and so mellow like the strings of a golden harp. I gave a sideway glance into the direction of my personal ''cheerleader'', God it felt good to be alive again.


    Her golden locks trembled in excitement and her nose twitched cutely in delight. She swayed her body left and right, up and down and waved with her arms like a madman. It was hilarious to watch and made me feel at ease on this battlefield. My guardian angel and nothing less.


    After regaling my eyes on Miril''s bouncing figure, and equally bouncing assets, I turned my attention towards the most urgent problem right now. The grievous wound on my chest, that pierced straight through my heart, healed quite a bit but the blood was still leaving my body at an alarming rate. To be honest my extreme display of unyieldingness cost me quite a bit of strength and was more detrimental, completely detrimental, to my health. It was worth it though. Before I could turn a sharp glare at the stumped Ash a distinct noise traveled into my ears.


    *CRACK*


    Just a slight breaking noise was all to take my focus away from the vile wound, why? It was extremely close, as if something on my body broke and it made me switch into full alert. I moved my eyes inconspicously around the area, a stumped Ash, stumped guards, everyone was stumped, who wouldn''t be?!


    *CRACK*


    It was there again, this time louder. I focused all my attention on this slight crackling until I noticed it came right from below my head, on my neck to be more precise.


    Dark fumes left the collar that entwined my neck like iron serpents, made breathing and eating hard and poisoned me on a daily basis. A curse so to speak.


    And then, as though it was all a bad dream it fell off. It happened so quickly that my mind couldn''t keep up, it was still whirled in turmoil by my emotional anguish. The collar simply fell on the ground, split apart by an unknown force. The iron shone from the ground and blinded me, yet it was not the light that blinded me in particular. It was the sight in itself. For years, years, I had this collar around my neck, never budging, chipping only slightly on the rarest occassions, and never letting me go. An abomination among metals. And now it laid there, powerless, it''s literal shackles were cut from my body, and I was free... It happened in a split second, like nothing.


    ''What?'', could I believe my eyes? Could it really be?


    I queried my own sanity.


    Without external force the collar suddenly silted, its structure turned brittle and fell apart, that easy. A small black snake, smokey and existing inbetween the realm of life and death formed from under the remnants of the collar.


    "I said I will help you, didn''t I?!", the snake whispered in an ethereal voice.


    Heavy melancholy befell my heart, I was lugubrious about the time that this collar stole from me, I couldn''t even break it with my own hands in the end. Without awaiting an answer the snake dissapered out of this realm.


    I sighed and without giving the black grime on the ground another glance I turned my attention to Ash. His mouth was still wide agape, his sights trailed between the hole in my chest and the ground I lay on only moments ago. ''Can''t believe it, eh?''.


    It was hilarious to see this man as flabbergasted as a child on a magic show. It was so hilarious that I wanted to kill him even more so...


    "H-How can that be possible?", his complexion turned a shade whiter as I kneeled onto the floor to pick up my broadsword. I kicked his sword far away, it clattered against the arena walls, leaving small cuts all over the floor behind.


    I would certainly not fight fair.


    A devilish grin grew larger on my face, my jagged canines greeted from behind my upper lip with murderous intent.


    "Heee... you certainly underestimated me didn''t you?", I tilted my head and held one figner against my chin, on a child it would certainly cute but my blood stained body, dark smaragd eyes filled with malignant desire, black bruises, black horn and crippled body and the large fangs that were able to rip spines apart were somewhat diametrical to cuteness.


    "Resurrection magic, can it be?", as fast as the surprise came as quickly was it gone.


    Ash pounded on his grey shield with his plated fist. "Let''s get this going!", he shouted and sprinted forward.


    ''Magic!'', the thought hit me like a meteor. In the next instant I churned my inside world, looked for this energy that constantly seeps out of my pores, and finally found it. Unlike before the mana inside my body felt much heavier, crassly contrasting to the light feeling I had at the beginning.


    Thinking about it for a second I blamed it on my emotional state and maybe the poison that the collar excreted.


    The mana maybe acted as a purifier, causing it to absorb parts of the toxins. But naturally I had nothing to base this theory on, where should the poison even cluster itself on? As far as I knew I had no knew organs were mana could be stored and neither could be absorbed poison. Of course it could be egested by natural processess like defecation, but then the mana had to transport the poison somehow into my inner organs. To much to think about now.


    I felt a headache barrel its way into my mind as I kept thinking about useless stuff. Maybe I needed this to distract myself from the growing hate that would certainly consume me one day, who knows and who cares?


    Ash stampeded forward like a raging bull, his shield was raised to the front, intimidating and oppressive. He might have been a single man, standing alone on this blood flowered field but in my eyes he looked like a silver wall moving in to shatter any offense, to shatter the will of his opponent with tyranical strength.


    The low whisper he invoked before impaling me was heard once again. His muscles wriggled in ecstasy by the influx of foreign power, his skin turned sanguine from profuse perfusion and wisps of steam rose from his flesh. He indeed looked like a crazed bull.


    His legs twitched, the ground errupted with each step, and in seconds he stood already before me, showing no signs of stopping. Some people might turn afraid but I just stood there, waiting to embrace my inevitable death. The audience stopped their breaths, Miril shouted from the spectator seats, the air turned feral.


    An evil smile etched onto my face. This is what I was waiting for, my body was aching to fight, even the mana coiled in anticipation. I willed it, the mana inside my body, to leave at once, to take control of the elements to make them do my bidding; I turned the flow of the wind, the throbbing of the earth, the heat of the sun; the surroundings became my domain and my domain only.


    The deadliest weapon is one you can''t see.


    I created paperthin vortexes of wind in the air, rotating and oscillating like a saw I planted these deadly wind blades all over the arena. It could have been because my body matured but I had a great feeling for the mana and essence around me, greater than the five years before.


    I warmed the wind up with small heat patches, invisble to the eye. I heated the air up and thusly created blurrs and minuscle fractions of light created by the two different heated air layers. It was barely enough to fizz my image but it could help one survive a sure-kill strike by a hair''s breadth.


    But was that enough, to place deadly wind guillotines in open space, invisble to the naked eyes yet as real as it could get, and create what is most likely a miniature fata morgana? No, I was far from over. I would play this game dirty, very dirty.


    Another second passed, I backstepped and at the same time dispatched balls of water essence into the earth, turned it into thick quicksand that wouldn''t let go. A layer of dry earth covered the fraudulent pits, gave them some kind of stability, enough for me to walk over but insufficient to keep Ash''s huge frame above the ground, after a few steps.


    I gave myself a nod, all of the above mentioned was quikcly made in 5 or 6 seconds, the time was spent with evading the berserker Ash and parrying his huge shield with my heavy sword. Those few and rare encounters further clarified the difference between our skills and overall strength. The ''buff'' or how one may call it made even tanking one hit nigh unbearable. I felt my bones breaking when I blocked the mighty shield with my broadsword. This was no simple strength difference anymore.


    My lungs burned, my mana was depleted. My legs were sore from the explosive dashes to keep all damage to a minimum. My fingers were squashed as I falsely blocked for only a single time, broken between sword hilt and a moving wall of grey steel.


    The traps were set up and now I had to stall. There was no way for me to fight back against a monster of such caliber, a killer of dragons, his physical prowess made it more than clear that those weren''t baseless rumors.


    Urging my tired legs forward I narrowly dodged the wild iron bull, else known as Ash. I brushed past his burning skin, tumbled in the air and landed crudely with weaving steps. The sword was barely enough to keep me from falling face first into the ground. I was exhausted.


    A last time I organized my thoughts, memorized the adequate placed traps and inhaled a calming gust of air. My vision focalized, my palpitating heart returned back to its usual rythm and a portion of my strength, those last tad bits of energy left in my body, spread through my system, the gush of adrenaline felt good.


    Gnashing my teeth and gulping down the damming blob of bile I exhaled sharply. Ash gazed at me fiercly, smote his balled fist onto the bastion of a shield and began running. He ran faster than any human could ever achieve under normal means, Usain Bolt? Not even worth comparing. It was truly fascinating how such a large frame can exercise such fleet movements.


    ''Enough gawking'', I slapped my cheek.


    Having the traps on my inner ''radar'' was extremely tiring but that way I could now move them at my will, allocate the wind blades to the right position. Lucky for me the cheering from the crowd that was now witnessing the climax of our battle drowned the shrill noise of the wind ''saws'', making them inaudible for the unstoppable Ash.


    Three steps, his body was only breaths away from the first winding, slashing twister. Two steps, he should now feel the circulating air on his skin. One step, runaway gusts of wind manage to cut into the first layer of his skin, scratching him at most. And then he came into full contact.


    Much like how iron reacts to high friction the impact between Ash and the first wind blade resulted in a small firework of glittering sparks, while at the same time a vexious, high-pitched noise filled the arena. If I wasn''t standing right before the origin of this sound I would think I was placed straight in a sawmill.


    After only the fraction of a second and a few traveled centimeters red speckles mixed into the yellowish sparks, they increased more and more until a steady stream of red fume frothed out of Ash''s shoulder. His reaction speed was miraculous, only moving a few inches into the danger and he changed the trajectory of his body so that the blade misses any vitals, without even knowing where and what the danger is.


    Kinda baffled I retreated another few steps backwards, Ash in turn moved forward. He experienced the deadly wind blades just once but whenever he came to close to one he dodged by a hair''s breadth. The turbulences in the wind might be the cause, I should improve on it later. ''Yeah, later because I will surely not lose this.''


    His right foot sunk into the earth, the surface crunched loudly and gave away only after a short instant, revealing the quicksand underneath.


    I was sure that people in this world have rarely seen or heard of quicksand and its properties and I made use of it. Ash, as expected, started to struggle with all his might; he pushed the sand beneath him away only to seep in deeper into the water pervaded dirt and sand.


    At that moment I thought I had him and I surely would have if not for the existence of a certain property, namely magic.


    Before his face vanished behind a veil of toasted sand, swallowed by masses of earth, he mutterted another chant. One could differentiate between the normaly spoken tongue and the unhuman, godly, demonic and angelic tongue that goes hand in hand with magical chants.


    Finishing his prayer the red hue on his skin intensified. The wisps of steam that arose from his skin turned into a full-on cloud of white vapor, beclouding the environs. I faintly heard the sizzling of water on probably the ground or Ash''s set ablaze skin.


    The ground dried out, scrunched as the water left the minuscle cavities and made them collapse on themselves.


    Behind the cover of white a orange orb of light blinked from nothingness. It coalesced into a faint human form, streaks of fiery red whipping through the air made it look synonymous to a demon from hell.


    As the vapor rose rapidly into the air, like the curtain in a theater, the ''boss'' was revealed. Bloodshot eyes with a silver core; purpure skin that sizzled from intense heat and blue veins that squirmed under the purple dermis; muscles that blared for sweet relief, abound in strength; silver hairs, steel threads that floated gently in the air. ''What have I done?!'', I questioned myself as the real dragon slayer Ash showed its colours.


    Unlike the rowdy atmoshpere from before the air was now filled with deadly silence that made us adversaries numb with its shrill stillness.


    The onlookers held hand before their agape mouths, fearing they might anger the beast that was towering inside this ring that turned into a death trap for me. But then there was a light. A symbolic light.


    The wound that Ash got on his shoulder, the baneful cut close to his carotid, stretched apart with the increase in tension on skin and muscles alike. A, probably, warm gush of blood left the now wider wound and turned the skin around Ash''s neck further into the inside of a blazing star.


    I swa a slight wince in his expression, more wounds openned up all over his body. It seems this super buff didn''t come for free.


    He roared, I roared. The situation was forlorne as long as I wouldn''t take action now. It seemed as if Ash sacrificed literally all of his defense, even the sparse armor on his body broke on a handful of spots. in turn for explosive fire power.


    I dodged enough attacks, the light fractions around me were subdued by my will; I placed enough traps, the saws and pitfalls turned into still air and hard earth respectively; I ran away for to long. I was stupid when I first engaged, out of my mind and now I would do it again, but with a different purpose. There was no alternative for me. I run, he finishes me off. I defend, he breaks my bones. The traps were now nothing more than accessoirs, the heat disrupted the air currents and hardened the earth, he countered my magic unknowingly. I am pretty unlucky.


    Hyat told me to be what I am, not try to accomodate to this new world. If I will turn to this worlds demise than so be it, but as sure as hell I won''t die here, not again, not right now.


    Collecting all those emotions that laid in shambles, all the hate that fueled my every step, I swallowed it down and prepared for the encounter of my life. Somewhere in the back of my mind I knew, even if I lose I would most likely survive. Some kind of higher power would bring me back, but in all honesty, dying sucks dick.


    I might not lose my life if I fail here, but I would certainly lose my dignity and sanity as human. Call me stupid, but a man gotta do what a man gotta do! Maybe it was the remains of mental turmoil that made my heart and mind change so fast but I felt this choice was the right thing to do.