《The Boy and the Dragon's Vengeance》 Prologue: The Boy and the Dragonslayers The world of Vastera had a tyrant. A being in the shape of a black dragon. A being of power beyond the reach of humanity. Or at least, should have been. It is told in legends that six warriors rose up to kill that dragon. Those brave mortals in turn, split the dragon¡¯s strength amongst themselves and gained eternal life. A young boy stood there. The expression on his face was one of shock and fear. It was the year 1254 of the Age of Stability, and he started the day off just as any other: Searching for edibles to bring back home in the Great forest of Yoell. However, today was not the same as the day before, or the day before that, or any other day in the history of Vastera. The Year 1254 would be known as a year of great change. The day the Six warriors waged battle against the Black Dragon God in the largest forest of the continent. And won. The boy had stumbled across that epic scene. Five hooded figures were striking against the thick scales of a massive Creature. Each strike would make a dent in the lustrous material, but would never break through it, no matter the force applied. The earth shook, and beams of dark mana struck down, the warriors barely dodging them. The black pillars tore through the earth like nothing, leaving massive holes. Another figure could be seen behind the first group, brandishing his sword in a reversed grip as if he were challenging the ground beneath him. Wisps of bright blue and dark purple magic swirled from the tip of the sword and around the blade, before disappearing at the hilt as if never existing in the first place. The Figure, after remaining in this position for what seemed like minutes, flipped his blade into a frontal grip and raised it into the air, beckoning a massive helix of magic to lower from the skies and cover his weapon. The dragon turned to face him, opening his mouth and gathering energy in it¡¯s jaws. The sky seemingly cracked and splintered around the mass of mana, and a sound similar to the screeching of fingers on a chalkboard could be heard. The group of hooded figures parted, and the man charged the dragon, jumping up and releasing his energy into the sword before slamming it towards the dragon¡¯s head. The Dragon released the energy it built up. A black stream that broke apart the air it touched like glass shot forth. Time paused for a moment. And then a deafening *CRACK!* resounded through the forest as the two energies collided. Unauthorized use of content: if you find this story on Amazon, report the violation. shock-waves ripped through the trees and uneven ground, bringing ruination upon the once great forest. By a stroke of luck, the boy survived the initial blast and was thrown backwards before hitting the ground. A small crater was formed where he landed, him being the center. The explosion of magic that had destroyed the place he knew as home broke bones, tore muscles, and ravaged intestines. In the end, the dragon¡¯s strength finally failed it. The mass of bright mana radiating from the warrior''s sword overpowered the monster''s breath, and severed it''s head from it''s neck. Seven black crystals exploded from the Dragon¡¯s wound, scattering across the wasteland. Each crystal looked like a glowing black orb, and absorbed the sunlight that it touched. One such sphere landed before quickly gliding across the ground, and into the depression of compacted dirt that broke the boy¡¯s fall. The warriors quickly searched for the crystals, finding six of them and concluding they could see no more. Splitting them between themselves, they looked at each other one last time, before turning from the rest of the group and speeding off. ~+~ The boy looked down at the glowing crystal. It was pulsing to the Dragon¡¯s last heartbeats. Suddenly, the boy had the urge to devour that crystal, to eat the glowing orb that seemed in his mind to be the tastiest food he had laid eyes upon. Perhaps, it was primal instinct. The subconscious desire for strength. The ever greedy abyss, planted in all humans from their birth to end, that always craved more power. Or perhaps, the child already in a desperate condition, grasped his one chance to survive. All he could feel was the titanic sense of longing in his mind. Shuddering from his ruptured organs and torn body, he reached outwards and grazed the glowing orb with his hand. The contact, however small it was, was enough to send the crystal rolling towards him. Collapsing, he could no longer bring his limbs to work. With the last bit of strength left in his frail body, he heaved his head over the crystal, before voraciously tearing it apart with his teeth. A cold sensation ran across his back and through his spine as he swallowed. The boy shivered, before convulsing in agony. Unimaginable pain coursed through his body, before he hit his threshold and passed out. The Boy and the Lonely Truth Sun here. Welcome to Dragon Ball Z¡­ er my fiction (I just realized my fiction had Dragons, and power granting balls¡­). Well, it still original. Kind of. This chapter drags on about his emotion a lot, because I don¡¯t want my character to seem emotionless. As for when the next chapter will be released, probably tomorrow. Thanks for reading! -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- The boy awoke with a start. How long had he been unconscious? It was already nighttime. The first thing he noticed was, his head hurt. So much so that his thoughts were strewn about his mind with no particular focus. Trying to clear his head, the boy repeated his thoughts to himself in an effort to achieve some composure. ¡®My name is Otis Farren. I am 13 years old. I live with my Mom and sis in a village in the Forest¡­¡¯ ¡®...The forest¡­¡¯ Otis swiveled his head side to side, searching for the tell-tale trees that should have shrouded the moonlight. However, all he could spy was barren desert, stripped of the green that once covered the land and skies, and left with chips of weathered wood and bark. Panicking, Otis quickly stood up. The world tipped and tilted, before he bent over and emptied whatever was left in his stomach. Crouching back down, he swiftly regretted moving so suddenly. Tears clouded his eyes for a moment, and his throat burned from the vomit. That pain was soon overshadowed by the aching soreness he felt throughout his entire body. Arms and legs creaked, and simply pushing himself up caused immense pain. ¡®Where am I? This isn¡¯t the forest. What happened?! How am I¡­ ARGHhhh...!¡¯ Otis clutched his head as a searing pain tore through his thoughts, before a cool feeling spread through his mind, numbing him. The feeling soothed the Migraine if only for a moment, but it allowed Otis to collect himself. ¡®What should I do? I don¡¯t know how to get back home. What should I do? Where should I go?! ...I guess I¡¯ll just, pick a direction and walk that way. There isn¡¯t really any other way. But what if I get lost!? What if I am going the wrong way!? What if¡­¡¯ The soothing cold seeped into his mind again, but this time he fought it off. He wanted to panic. He wanted to be scared. And no outside force would hold back his true instincts once he was desperate. The innocent village boy, not conditioned to take so much stress, plummeted to his knees. Tears fell to the ground, and the dirt devoured the liquid as if it had never seen rain for thousands of years. In a fit of rage, he struck the ground with all his might. What happened next seemed to defy the capabilities of his scrawny body. The ground shook, and the earth split apart around him, crumbling into cracked clumps before sinking downwards and compacting. The impact created a crater 4 meters in diameter, and 3 feet deep. Otis¡¯s footing was destroyed, and he slammed into the now hard ground knees-first. Otis¡¯s scream spread across the desert, but there was no one to hear him. He looked down towards his fist, and waited for the veil of tears to part before seeing his twisted, bleeding hand. In fact, it was hard to believe it used to be a hand at all, if not for the fact that it was connected to the rest of his arm. The fingers were bent at angles that no finger should be in, and he could see the dirt caked muscles and blood through his all-but-destroyed skin. If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it. Otis paled, and quickly turned away from his hand, raising it above his chest in an effort to slow down the bleeding. However, it proved unnecessary, as his limb went numb and fell asleep. Peeking back ever so slightly, he was greeted with the sight of a brand new hand, although covered in blood. Looking beneath him, he scanned the indentation he made with a look of disbelief. ¡®This has to be a dream. This can¡¯t be real. No no NO! I felt pain. that was real. A hallucination? Maybe I caught a fever and am still in my bed at home? Yes, that¡¯s probably it. No, it must be it. Calm down, Otis.¡¯ Standing up and crawling out of the fresh bowl he created, he brushed off the dirt. Feeling thirsty, Otis convinced himself the experience wasn¡¯t real, and he would receive water when he returned to reality. Standing up, he started walking in the direction of the moon. Since he was stuck in a hallucination, he figured he might as well explore. ~+~ 40 minutes. That was the time it took before Otis came across the first sign of civilization. A broken piece of wood, seemingly worn away by a thousand rivers and winds. However, Otis recognized this piece of faded board. When looked at carefully, he could make out the engraved letters: ¡°Farren¡¯s Potion Brew¡± Otis laughed to himself. ¡®What kind of sick joke is this? A prophecy of the future? Or my mind¡¯s cruel tricks? My mom¡¯s potion shop has been passed on for generations, and will be for many more to come.¡¯ Grasping the sign, he continued onwards. 5 minutes. 10 minutes. 20 minutes. He came across the second sign. It was blood. Blood splattered across the ground, as if thrown from a bucket, creating angled stains across the earth. And in the middle of all the red, was a torso. Otis¡¯s stomach lurched for the second time today, but nothing came out. He wanted to turn away and run from the horrid sight, but his eyes were trapped. Transfixed to the shining black object embedded in the disfigured chest. At the Dark scale of a Dragon. And suddenly, his memories of the morning came rushing into his mind. The Monster, the six figures who killed it, the explosion, and the crystal. He knew somewhere in his mind it was all true. It seemed too vivid in his mind not to be. But he was unwilling to accept that. Accept that his family was gone. Accept that his life was destroyed. Accept that he had nothing. The conflicting thoughts roiled around in his brain, constantly pulling his opinion around in a hurricane of emotion. And at the moment, something inside the small boy¡¯s mind snapped right in half. ~+~ Somewhere in a barren desert that stretched as far as the eye could see, a young boy wandered in a stupor. In his hands was clutched a piece of broken signboard. His steps were heavy, but his gaze held no weight. The sun was shining, but the light could not reach through the abyss his heart had fallen through. Somewhere in a barren desert, a young boy aimlessly walked. Walked and walked, until he reached the edge. The Boy and The Survivor A bit of a light hearted chapter, to set up more of the future story. Don¡¯t worry for those of you who like dark tragedies. I have the tag for a reason. Also, I''m kind of sick, so maybe another chapter today. Idk. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- General Landon Kai of the 3rd army of The Aclaster Empire was unhappy. No, unhappiness would not begin to describe how he felt at that moment. More like deep dissatisfaction. Due to his dedication to his country and an indomitable will, he quickly climbed up the ranks even as a half demon. His mother was a war prisoner, and his father a soldier who fell for her. When his mother was released, they officially married, and had a child with black hair, black eyes, and a single twisting horn growing from his right temple. Now 35 years from then, the mother died of sickness, and his father was killed in the line of duty. Throughout his life, his father showed great devotion to the nation¡¯s cause, motivating the young boy to take up arms and fight. However even with all his accomplishments and patriotic deeds, he was sent to patrol the wastelands to the north, and not the battlefield. ¡®It really did turn into a wasteland. I guess it¡¯s now the Great Yoell Desert?¡¯ Landon thought as he surveyed the flat, cracking land. ¡°You guys set up camp. I¡¯m going to go look around. I¡¯ll be back for Dinner!¡± Landon told the soldiers following him, setting down his pack for the others to unload. ¡°Ditching work and leaving it to us recruits? I wouldn¡¯t have signed up for this if I knew I¡¯d get such a lazy commander!.¡± Playfully voiced a soldier ¡°Leave it to us! Although I don¡¯t see why you¡¯re bothering. It¡¯s a fuckin desert without a plant in sight.¡± Said another. ¡°Yeah, well there could still be monsters roaming around. And it will help us get a head start in the morning.¡± Landon conveyed his thoughts, and was met by approving and grateful nods from the 30 some people in front of him. Turning around, he began walking away from the Moon. ¡®What kind of monsters does it take to level the largest forest in the continent? No, more like what kind of monster was the Black Dragon? I don¡¯t know the details, but the rumor is it¡¯s power was great enough to mobilize the 6 most powerful humans¡­ No, not humans. You can¡¯t call them humans anymore. They are monsters¡­ Well, anyways, their greed was brought to the surface by the mere existence of that dragon. Enough so that they unified despite being mortal enemies.¡¯ Landon soon became lost in his thoughts. Thoughts about what magic could cause such destruction, or how the Six Warriors attained their insurmountable power. Coming back to reality, he was greeted by wooden planks and shredded tree matter haphazardly strewn about. Landon had felt the shockwave when he was in the middle of a city patrol. That was many miles away. He figured the sight in front of him were the remnants of a small village in the middle of Yoell, blown away by the force of the wave. Looking upwards, the moon had moved, and was now facing him. ¡®I knew I had a habit of spacing out, but this is ridiculous. I guess I¡¯ll take this from the top tomorrow morning.¡¯ Landon gingerly picked up a broken plank, before tossing it with an overhead throw. The plank spun a few times, before landing to the ground. *Clonk!* ¡®That didn¡¯t sound quite right. A hollow sound?¡¯ Landon thought, hesitating for only a moment before walking in the direction of the plank. Looking downwards, he found a cheap wooden chest with a small [cold] enchantment on it. It was wide enough to fit a full set of armor with room to spare. The chest brought a nostalgic feeling in Landon¡¯s heart, as he remembered his mother storing home brewed potions in a box much like it, to keep it from expiring as quickly. The chest actually seemed relatively unharmed. It became apparent that there was something in it when Landon grabbed it with both hands. Landon estimated about 50 kilograms of goods were locked in the chest. Setting it down, he opened the box from the top, peeking in to reveal the contents inside. And was met with a foot. Planted firmly in his face. Landon jumped back, but the damage had been done. His nose was bleeding, and he was sure he bit his tongue or his lips. It was too numb to tell which though. He swiftly moved his hand to the hilt of his blade, a movement so practiced he could do it in a split second without warning. However, what came from the opened chest was not what he expected. A small girl with brown hair, dark black eyes, and a slender figure climbed out. She had tears in her eyes, mud on her clothes and body, and scuffs and scratches, probably from the rough sides of the box. Although her arms were held out and her hands balled into fists, her expression and white knuckles betrayed her true emotions. She had a tattoo of a serpent spiraling from her middle arm area all the way to the tip of her shoulder. The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident. Landon instinctively loosened his grip on the blade. A bad move. The girl ran up to him and punched again, this time at his chest. Landon quickly realized she had strong physical capabilities. Her fist crashed into his chest. A large crack could be heard, and her fist retracted, bleeding. ¡°Honestly, what did expect would happen when you punched a solid metal chestplate?¡± The girl looked at him again. Tears streamed down her face, before she struck him again. Landon raised his gauntlet to protect his face, and the girl¡¯s fist once again made a cracking noise, showering landon in tiny specks of blood. The girl hit his gauntlet again and again until Landon grabbed her and halted her movements. By this time, her hand was covered in blood, the skin around her knuckles raw, and her wrist purple. ¡°Calm down! What the hell are you doing?! You¡¯re hurting yourself!¡± He shouted. To which her reply was ¡°Why would an evil kidnapping raping bandit like you care about if I hurt myself? Don¡¯t want to damage the goods, you fucker?!¡± Temporarily taken aback by her foul mouth, Landon just stood there looking shocked. This was without a doubt the first time he had been called something like that. And from someone young enough to be his daughter no less. But she wasn¡¯t finished. ¡°Push me down and I¡¯ll rip your ----- into pieces and shove it up your ---! If you want a -------, I¡¯ll bite your fuckin ---- off!¡± She shouted, making Landon cringe from the image. (Censored so us males don¡¯t cry ;-;) It was Landon¡¯s turn. ¡°I¡¯m not a bandit! I am a proud general of the Aclaster Empire! I show worry for you, and you reply with such horrible words?! Not even my men talk in such a foul way! And they spend years fighting with pent up frusturation!¡± ¡°... Aclaster? what the hell is that?¡± ¡°Don¡¯t tell me¡­ you don¡¯t know? One of the most powerful empires on the continent?¡± ¡°Oh yeah, Mom told me about those.¡± ¡°The Empires?¡± ¡°Continents.¡± ¡°Oh holy mother of god¡­¡± ¡°Anyways, if you¡¯re not a bandit, and not my enemy, what are you? And can you please let go of my hand?¡± the girl asked. ¡°I¡¯m your ally. Unless you choose to do those things you mentioned¡­¡± He replied, slackening his grip before letting go of her wrist completely. ¡°Well if you¡¯re an ally, then I don¡¯t see a reason to do that. What¡¯s your name? ¡°I¡¯m Landon Kai. One of the strongest genera-¡± ¡°Yeah yeah ok. Gotcha. and by the way, why did you give me this tattoo?¡± The girl said, pointing towards the serpentine dragon tattoo that swirled around her arm. Landon was displeased at being cut off, but quickly turned his attention to her shoulder. ¡°Gave you? Like I could just ¡®give¡¯ you a tattoo without you realizing it.¡± Landon said, raising an eyebrow. ¡°Strange¡­ Ok, Cool. Anyways, nice to meet you Lanny. I¡¯m Ouriel. Ouriel Farren.¡± Ouriel said. ¡°Lanny?? wait wait, no. What was this about the tattoo?¡± ¡°Well, it just appeared. I didn¡¯t have it this morning.¡± ¡°How is that possible¡­ No, nevermind, we¡¯ll talk about that later. How about we go back to camp? You can tell me your story there.¡± Landon nodded to his own words, before beckoning her to come with him. ¡°And I can trust you because¡­?¡± ¡°I didn¡¯t attack you, I didn¡¯t rape you, and I¡¯m the only person here.¡± Was his reply. ¡°....¡± Ouriel pondered for awhile, before agreeing, ¡°Fair enough. Lead the way¡­¡± The Boy and the Revelation A little longer of a chapter. I was sick the past two days, and sort of slept through yesterday. Man that was great. Anyways, here is the next chapter. Hope you enjoy! -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- ¡®Thirsty¡­ Hungry¡­¡¯ Otis had yet to find either necessity, yet his body hadn¡¯t stopped functioning yet. He figured if he died there wouldn¡¯t much of a loss. He had nothing, and he knew it. Purpose was all but a foreign word to him at this moment. However, he plowed onward. He made no moves to actively survive, but felt queasy at the thought of ending himself. It would appear his instinct was at least partially intact. After four days of straight walking, this was the result. He soon arrived at the edge of the shock wave''s radius. Sand was slowly fading into brown dirt; and fallen trees although felled by the mighty blast, kept their trunks intact. The foliage was splayed outwards, as if pointing, inviting the boy to cross over and away from his recent past. Otis stared at the ground, before moving his head upwards. A tan beige shifted to brown, before rapidly exploding into the green of grass and plant life. Roots, partially uncovered, wound their way up from the ground, before descending back into the earth as they neared the untouched area of the forest. It would make for quite the painting if there was someone around with an artistic sense. A shame Otis received no such inspiration. ¡®This feels inviting. It largely resembles my home. But what is this tugging feeling at the back of my mind?¡¯ Otis grasped a root, before pushing himself over the dividing ledge. Trudging onward, he was overtaken by a barrage of sneezes. ¡®The pollen seems restless. The aftereffects of the fight?¡¯ He thought, wiping his nose on his sleeve. Not the cleanest solution, but there wasn¡¯t anyone to scold him. A while ago, thinking about the fight would have plunged him into even deeper despair, but now he simply felt empty. Walking further into the forest brought about a nostalgic darkness. A wide canopy of intertwined branches created a ceiling with few imperfections. The light that did make it through found its way to the smaller vegetation. Miniature trees, still growing, seemed to flock to the falling rays, bending their fragile stalks gradually towards them. Small vine plants wrapped themselves around the thicker trunks of ancient trees, tempting those who entered the land to pick their poison berries. All across the ground, smothering the fallen timber, the green and white moss stretched its domain. ¡®Yep. This is the closest to home I¡¯ve felt in a few days. Now, to find some water.¡¯ Focusing his hearing to the maximum, he heard the rapid flow of a stream about half a mile inwards. The sound water makes is very distinctive. There are very few things found in nature that can mimic the sensation of thousands of droplets crashing against rocks. Otis could safely conclude the source in such a vast place, not tracked by humans. That could not however explain his sense of hearing. There were two reasons he could pull the feat off. Firstly, such a silent and peaceful atmosphere limited the number of distractions. Secondly, his new-found power. ¡®This power is pretty handy. I used it many times to make sure I wouldn¡¯t run into a monster back in the desert.¡¯ The ability to focus one of his senses came with his physical power. He discovered it in a fit of paranoia, trying desperately to ensure his safety and avoid all forms of trouble. That was merely at the beginning, before he realized there was nothing alive anywhere near the barren land. Back in the Yoell Wasteland, there were no trees to block the wind, and his senses couldn¡¯t extend nearly as far. Halfway to the river, Otis heard a sound. Something moved, and it was close. He focused on his hearing, searching again. This time, he could faintly hear the stealthy pitter-pattering of small, almost weightless footsteps. Otis swiftly turned around, and was greeted with two cold amber eyes. Amber eyes could mean multiple things. But in the forest, it would either be a Tree-Prowler wolf, or a Brownwood Spirit. He hoped it was a wolf. At least with a wolf, he could fight back. A spirit had no physical body on this plane, and the only chance of hitting one was with magic. ¡®Damn. I don¡¯t know any magic, but I don¡¯t think I¡¯m fast enough to handle a wolf. I¡¯m dead either way! wait¡­ It¡¯s highly unlikely a spirit showed up. They are rare beyond imagination. I could live in here for years, and not see one. So it¡¯s probably a wolf. Good, Tree-Prowlers don¡¯t travel in groups. But it still stands: How do I survive this? I can¡¯t outrun one. They are blindingly fast.¡¯ Although the boy didn¡¯t seem to value his survival so much before, he could slowly feel that spark reignite. He was an ordinary human after all. ¡®No panicking¡­ I won¡¯t break down¡­ I¡­ am strong. I will survive this!¡¯ A cold feeling spread across his conscience, blanketing and nurturing his instincts, and sheltering that small part of his mind from unneeded emotions. His eyes darkened, his face slackened, and he stared straight back at the pair of eyes he spotted before. The two creatures stared at each other for a few moments. ¡®Good. It¡¯s not a spirit. A spirit wouldn¡¯t wait this long.¡¯ The amber eyes disappeared, leaping outwards, a mass of grey and crimson fur rearing up behind them. Otis quickly held his hands upwards in an ¡®X¡¯ shape, blocking the swift claw strikes from the wolf. Blood oozed from his arms, trickling downwards from deep gashes and staining the entirety of his sleeves red. Otis¡¯s mouth twisted into a grimace, and he clenched his teeth together. He was pushed backwards by the force, but stayed standing. After all, even with his great power, his body was for some reason still weak. No sounds parted from his lips. The creature jumped back, using Otis¡¯s block to propel itself through the air. After a few seconds, the wounds closed back up. Only at this distance could Otis appreciate it''s powerful look. Grey fur stuck out in a spiked pattern, while swirling red patterns adorned it''s body. It''s snout was slightly longer than your average wolf in comparison to it''s body. The most striking feature that set it apart from other wolves was it''s size. It was about 5 ft tall on all fours, almost as tall as a grown man. The beast seemed hesitant to attack after Otis''s display. Someone had to take the initiative. Otis dashed forwards, his arms still covering his face, save his eyes. The wolf leaped once more, it¡¯s jaws opened wide revealing yellowed pointed teeth. The boy moved his left hand forward, slamming it into the wolf¡¯s mouth. The creature bit down, piercing his flesh and holding tight. And that was the end. Otis¡¯s right hand balled into a fist so tight his knuckles turned white. He swung it towards the wolf still clamped onto his left. A cracking sound resounded across the forest, reverberating off the branches and columns of trees. Pulverized chunks of meat hit the ground and the wooded trunks, blood splattered across the area. The boy¡¯s hand and wrist shattered once again, and flailed backwards. And just as suddenly as it came, the cold feeling left him. He dared not look at his arm, but could already feel a numbing sensation creeping along it. Looking at the wolf, he could feel his vision getting hazy and dark. He should have just looked at the arm. At least he could sort of tell what the arm was supposed to be. Gathering his courage, Otis shifted his view back his kill. ¡°What kind of monster did I become¡­ What should I feel more disgust towards: the remains of the wolf, or myself?¡¯ He was covered head-to-toe in blood. The stench made Otis want to throw up, and he most certainly would''ve if he had something to throw up. The coldness he felt before brought about a clearer mind, and sharper senses. However, Otis knew: that certainly was not him. Frightened, Otis stood up. He no longer felt hunger. He was too repulsed by the sight in front of him. Turning around, he began to walk towards the river. Support the creativity of authors by visiting Royal Road for this novel and more. ¡®I cannot become like that again. Ever.¡¯ ~+~ Landon returned with the girl in tow. ¡°Landon! We thought you got lost!¡± ¡°Or you died!¡± He was greeted casually by the soldiers in an almost comedic fashion, however it was evident in their faces that they felt relief. ¡°Who the hell said I died?! I¡¯m invincible! And stop addressing me so casually!¡± Landon barked at the soldiers, also half jokingly. ¡°Sure thing, Landon!¡± voiced the soldier nearest to him. ¡°So, who¡¯s the cute little girl you brought in tow?¡± ¡°This is.. err¡­¡± Landon couldn''t recall, and prepared for the insult he would receive. ¡°Ouriel Farren! Remember it, asshole.¡± Ouriel stated, pouting slightly towards Landon. ¡°She has a mouth on her. Be careful. Anyways, she¡¯s a survivor.¡± ¡°¡°¡°What?!¡±¡±¡± A large group of men exclaimed, many still with food stuffed in their mouths. What followed next was a conglomeration of different conversations and questions. Once the talking died down, she was asked to explain what happened. ¡°I heard a rumbling sound, and panicked. I realized the only thing that made sense would be that it was a horde of forest monsters, or raiders. So I quickly hid inside a cooling chest my brother used to play with potions, and waited for it to pass over. I don¡¯t really remember anything from when I was in it, but when I woke up I was no longer in Yoell. I¡¯m hoping to get an escort or ride back.¡± The girl recounted her experience. ¡°... Young lady¡­ This is Yoell...¡± said a soldier, before holding his mouth to stop himself. The words had already been said, and the reply was on the way. ¡°No. I¡¯m pretty sure Yoell is a forest. A fucking HUGE forest, mind you. And this doesn¡¯t look green to me.¡± She said, rolling her eyes. Landon heaved a sigh. ¡®This is going to be a hard night.¡¯ (Author: I¡¯m planning to have Ouriel¡¯s story told in shorter parts, so as not to take too much time from our main.) ~+~ The first thing Otis noticed about the river was it¡¯s muddy complexion. The shadows cast by the enormous trees surrounding it, and the carpet of dark green moss that coated the rocks around it did nothing to help that image. The Second thing was he could not tell how deep it was. It was relatively wide, and could be shallow. But, a feeling in his gut told him it was deeper than he would guess. ¡®It¡¯s better than nothing I suppose.¡¯ Otis thought, bending down and trying to scoop some of the murky brown water up with his hands. This first drink tasted awful, like drinking mud. The second drink cleared his throat, and left him feeling slightly more refreshed. The third drink was interrupted. The water exploded, speckles of water and splashed liquid parting ever-so-slightly to reveal a sharp tooth lined jaw. Jumping back in panic, he was far too late. The mouth closed onto his right arm, tearing through his muscle and lodging teeth into his bones. The only thought that came to Otis¡¯s mind before being pulled under was: ¡®Why is it always my right arm?¡¯ Underwater, Otis could once again feel the coldness. For a few seconds he fought off the feeling. ¡®Wait¡­ Why am I fighting this? Don¡¯t I want to li-¡¯ His thoughts were cut short, before he was thrashed to the right. His vision flashed for a moment, and the force violently ripped at his arm, dislocating it. Out of pain Otis opened his mouth, losing precious oxygen before closing up like a clam. ¡®I¡¯m gonna die! I don¡¯t want to die! Not yet!¡¯ ¡®Damn it. God Damn it! OK! Just one more time! Come on! work!¡¯ But the soothing, calming sensation did not come again. ¡®Why isn¡¯t it working?! What do I do?! I WANT TO LIVE!!!¡¯ The monster whipped its head to the left this time, crushing Otis against the left side of the river. Otis froze for a moment, processing the pain. He shrieked, and his last reserves of oxygen left him. Pulling strength into his uninjured arm, he tried to hit the creature below him. The force of the attack was weakened by the water, but it didn¡¯t matter. His target was out of reach anyways. He then clawed at the dirty rocks that lined the body of water, but found no purchase. His mind wouldn¡¯t work. He was overloaded by the stress, and unconsciously kicked in an effort to keep himself up, not even realizing he could strike the monster with his foot. He swung blindly with his hand again. He flailed and flailed, but could not hit the monster. But this time, his fist hit something. His right shoulder. The socket was crushed, and his arm burst from it¡¯s rightful place: that place being connected to his body. The water filled with blood, clouding the depths even more. The weight of the monster no longer pulling him down, his kicking motions rapidly shot him upwards. His head broke through the calm atmosphere on the surface. He grabbed blindly, trying to reach the shore, until finally finding his objective and dragging himself back to dry land. Gasping, his lungs greedily pulled the oxygen from his surroundings. He was in pain, but paid little attention to it. The adrenaline in his body lessened the feeling, but he knew it would hurt soon. His right arm was healing extremely slowly, and still hadn¡¯t stopped bleeding. The stump, although visibly repairing itself, didn¡¯t regrow instantly like his previous experiences. The blood loss was causing him to feel nauseous. ¡®Did it stop working? No¡­ It¡¯s regenerating. Just really slowly¡­ ¡® He couldn¡¯t tell why, but to an educated magician it would be obvious. The creature was venomous, and the poison slowed down his body¡¯s magic regulation. Also, busting up an arm was one thing. Tearing it off however could upset the mana channels in a person¡¯s body. The pain came slowly back to him, his body weaning off of the adrenaline. But no tears fell from the boy¡¯s face. No cries could be heard. All that could be seen was the resolute face of Otis. ¡®Never again. I have decided. I will survive, even if I change forever. I will never get myself into such an unsightly situation again.¡¯ Trying to get up, he felt an unconquerable force push him down. No matter what he did, his body was losing strength. Exhaustion took over, and he slept. The Boy, The Being, and The Invincible Sorry for lack of updates. Did you know that working at a lab takes a lot of time? Anyways, here is the chapter, however it¡¯s a bit short today. I¡¯ll update again soon¡­ very soon¡­ And no, don''t worry: The main character will never fall back on his "hidden power in the form of another self/being" inside of him like in Bleach. I don''t like that. At all. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- When the boy awoke, he was hit by an unbearable hunger. How to describe it? Insatiable would be the most accurate word, but even that could not explain the full gravity of this feeling. The toll of constant healing and stress came in the form of an empty stomach. The urge to eat was so great, he lost himself in a rampage, desperately seeking for food. If he had seen himself, he would be more worried about his reckless actions rather than the mindless beast he became. The boy would have forced himself back into control, using the new-found resolve so deeply engraved in his heart to avoid moving farther into the forest. The intense thoughts based purely on instincts that had taken his body wanted nothing more than to devour, and the alluring smell of the resident creatures towards the center of the woods offered little argument to stop the berserk boy. However, this was not the boy. Otis Farren was no longer the sentience in control at this very moment. Instead, something primal that had slept since he had gained power awoke. Caused by the boy''s lack of food, and the fact that Otis''s mind was no longer in a position to move his body, the strange being took it into it''s own hands. The child walked in a straight line into the dense thicket ahead, paying no heed to the trees and logs in the way, obliterating them with a simple kick or punch. His calm look belied his current true, feral outlook. Hands and legs bloody from now invisible wounds, the being extended multiple senses at once, something that the original owner of the body could not. Sweeping across the area around him, his powers spread out in waves, catching everything within a mile. About three-fourths of a mile to his right, he could sense a large creature standing still. It¡¯s heart beat at a slightly faster rate to accommodate the rather bulky body. Turning in the correct direction, the being exploded outwards, dashing towards his new prey. Unlike earlier, it was now hunting time. No longer did it crush everything in it¡¯s path, and instead opted for fast yet quiet movements. The boy landed behind a large tree trunk, peering at the monster with the eyes of a predator. The target¡¯s posture largely resembled a dog, however it was as tall as a person when on it¡¯s four legs. Although the posture was dog-like, it¡¯s appearance was something else entirely. Grey, scaly skin coated it¡¯s body, meeting halfway from the beast¡¯s belly with thick armored plates. It¡¯s tail was long and snake-like, easily spanning the length of the rest of it¡¯s body. Sharp glowing eyes with a pinkish tint were placed above it¡¯s massive tooth-ridden mouth. The plating that topped its body was riddled with holes of various sizes. However, they were not to be mistaken as wounds. The monster was aptly named Wizard Eater, as the gaping pits on its body sucked out magic from the air. The being opened it¡¯s mouth for the first time, and spoke two words quietly, so as not to alert the prey before he was finished. ¡°Ethereal Fires¡± The boy¡¯s arm grabbed at the air, and the area around his hands very slightly distorted. A strong smell of ethanol filled the air, and the skin and muscle on the hand tore itself off, slowly disintegrating. Intense heat waves expanded into the atmosphere, not escaping the monster¡¯s sense. It turned towards the source, and was met by the scene of a human boy holding his hand as far away from the rest of his body as possible. No, it wasn¡¯t a hand anymore: it was a rapidly shortening stump. The boy had to hurry. Any more and the mana channels that stretched through his arm would burn away, dissipating the spell. The invisible flames stopped eating away at the being¡¯s body. The magic had already been launched. A wave of heat so great the branches withered and the earth combusted slammed into the front half of the Wizard Eater, shearing it right off. The magic absorbing properties that made the monster so famous and avoided were nothing to the power of the fire. The ball of flames carved a hole through the forest, and continued onwards; vaporizing the terrain. The grass surrounding the clearing instantly burst into a colorful array of dancing inferno. This story has been unlawfully obtained without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon. Nothing could escape it, the pressure containing it to prevent it from harming its caster no longer restraining it. The heat waned, and the fire suddenly disappeared, but the being was enraged. By the time the fire had stopped, there was nothing salvageable left of his food. There was no use. It would have to hunt manually; and it could feel the boy¡¯s body getting heavier due to the strain of magic. It knew the magic, however efficient and well-crafted it was, would have extreme repercussions on the frail child. After all, simply using it caused such great damage to itself. The being stopped to stare at the boy¡¯s arm, before continuing onwards, farther into the great forest. ~+~ At first, the world was unsure what to think of the Six Warriors. They chose to remain silent and had little interaction with the public, they were quick to anger, and they had an obvious greed for power. In fact, they would seem the opposite of a stereotypical hero. But despite all these worries, the Six Warriors were loved by the Humans, Elves, Dwarves, and Fairies. The higher tiered beings chose to remain silent, however the most powerful of creatures, the dragons, were enraged. The Six Heroes, The Six Dragonslayers, the Six Saviours. That was how they were addressed by the masses of races with low magic powers. The Six Monsters, The Six Savages, The Six Murderers. That was how they were addressed by the dragons. They killed the monster that plagued their kind with fear, and proved that lower races weren¡¯t always ¡®weaker¡¯. What the public didn¡¯t know was they had long given up their true race. Each absorbing one of the Aspects, they couldn¡¯t even be called a dragon or a mortal. No, they were an entirely new species. ¡®Draconians, perhaps?¡¯ One of the warriors mused to himself. ¡®No. That doesn¡¯t sound quite right.¡¯ He was sitting in his own home: A tower that reached high into the sky, but managed to stay hidden due to a constant cloaking magic. A magic of such scale would have required the resources of many kingdoms, however just him was enough. After achieving the wish he so desired, he realized it wasn¡¯t what he truly wanted. Firstly, there really wasn¡¯t much to do. There was no one to fight, and no one he truly cared about either. In fact, the man didn¡¯t even care for himself. After all, he knew what kind of person he was. There was also the paranoia that one day everything he had built up would be snatched away by one of his ¡®comrades¡¯. But the largest reason he was regretful was what he had lost to achieve this empty feeling. He sacrificed everything he knew and held dear, but received so little in return. A scene from the past appeared in his mind. A picture of a life he had long forsaken. A woman kneeled on the ground. A bloody child in her hands. The more the warrior thought about it, the more he was pulled into that memory. Suddenly, he was his past self. He stared at the woman in front of him, before looking down. His hands were painted red. The memory faded away, and so too did his feelings of doubt. He knew his answer. ¡°It wasn¡¯t worth it¡­¡± The great, invincible warrior fell to his knees, and wept for a path long passed.