《Super-Soldier in Another World: Revenant》 Prologue: The Factory A light wind kicked up dust from the dry cracked ground of the valley, sending up gusts that partially occluded the wide, squat building dominating its center. A weapons production factory, a fairly important one at that, formerly responsible for providing the Eighth arm with over ten percent of its munitions, at least in the outer colonies. Hoplite bumped the pad in his helmet using his chin, his visor zooming in to view things more clearly. His golden eyes spied a dozen hunched figures huddling around the entrance of the building. Most likely it was a regiment of pugs, based on the shape and size of them. They were the most numerous of the Final Kind¡¯s forces, and the most disposable. They would be a great alarm system should the entrance be attacked directly. Their screams were of inordinate volume, equivalent to that of a gunshot. As soon as one was killed, the rest would panic and the entire factory would be on lockdown. Granted, it was going to be put on lockdown one way or another, after he made it inside. He¡¯d been tasked with scaring the enemy forces out of the building and into the open, after that happened, they would be gunned down by the Eighth Arm forces surrounding the valley. There were a thousand aliens in there, so sending in a regiment of human troops would be dangerous and costly. They could not afford to flush this problem out with brute force, especially not after Earth fell¡­ Hoplite bumped his chin again, activating his cloaking system. He checked his hands, seeing that¡­ well, that he couldn¡¯t see them. Very good, there was no creature in the Final Kind forces posted here that would be able to see him, not unless they had a motion tracker. That was a distinct possibility, but the majority of hostiles here would not be in possession of one. These were the last Final Kind forces posted on this planet, as soon as they were slaughtered this world would be liberated. From there, the Eighth Arm could prepare for an eventual retaking of Earth. That wouldn¡¯t be for quite a long time, unfortunately¡­ but perhaps Lord Jyn would return to tip the scales once again during this lull in the war. His mind became fuzzy as he thought of the Master of Humanity, and Hoplite decided that it was best to ignore the feeling. He crept down the hill, silently, not making a single noise despite his great size. That was more due to his Kryptes suit, rather than his own skill. It wasn¡¯t that he couldn¡¯t sneak effectively on his own, but the armor had been crafted to not emit a sound. Hoplite knew not the science of how it worked, nor did he care. As long as it worked, that was all that mattered, he¡¯d not overthink things like Thirty-Seven so often did. If only Hoplite Thirty-Seven was here now, both of them working together could have this factory cleared in fifteen minutes or less, but he had most likely perished in the battle for Earth. Hoplite grimaced at the thought, but did not slow his pace. When he finally reached the wall of the factory, he placed his hands upon its concrete surface, and began to ascend. Soundlessly he climbed, the tiny Adium spikes embedded in his palms digging through the concrete with ease. They were almost invisible to the naked eye, but the nigh indestructible spikes were more than capable of both supporting his great weight and punching through even steel. Of course, he¡¯d need to retract them when it was time to draw a weapon, as the spikes could damage them otherwise. It wasn¡¯t long before he finally reached the top, spying his first victims stationed along the edges of the roof. Final Kind snipers, specifically Swaglay. Disgusting freaks with dozens of tentacles hanging down from octopi-like heads. Several plasma guns were held aloft by these prehensile limbs, all aimed down at the entrance of the factory. They skittered about occasionally on a set of four sharp insectoid legs, heads whipping this way and that as they scanned the dusty field below. Hoplite crept up behind the nearest one, drawing his Sectis knife and driving it into the back of the alien''s skull. The dark tungsteel blade punched through the spongy bone with ease, destroying the brain and forcing the body to stiffen. He quickly drew the knife, which was as long as a normal man''s forearm, and eased the corpse into its landing, making not a single sound. It wasn¡¯t time to make ¡®art¡¯ yet¡­ the rest would need to die first. These ones weren¡¯t going to be a part of the retreat, they were going to be a warning to any Final Kind forces that fled to the roof, instead of outside like the plan intended. He repeated the same action for all twenty Swaglay before dragging their stiff corpses toward the center of the roof. There was only one access ladder that led down into the factory and vice versa, so as long as he positioned his ¡®art¡¯ in front of the entrance, it would likely scare off any that dared to find sanctuary on the roof. He quickly went to work, twisting limbs together and severing body parts, the only noise audible on the rooftop being crunching bone and slicing flesh. He wiped the excess blood away from his crimson visor, not stopping to admire his handiwork before he descended the ladder into the factory proper. The only lights active in this shaft were barely functioning LED¡¯s, dim and flickering and he climbed downward, still invisible to the naked eye. When he finally reached the bottom, he eased off the ladder silently. It would be okay now to begin making artwork to terrify the enemy, standard-operation Poltergeist was now a go. His armored boots didn¡¯t make a single sound as he moved through the concrete halls of the factory, levitating him half an inch from the ground. The bottoms of these boots were equipped with small anti-gravity emitters, only just strong enough to allow him to hover. Thankfully the Kryptes suit could automatically adjust his balance to take this into account, though Hoplite didn¡¯t really believe that he needed it. He found a regiment of pugs and a Yugoro patrolling a hallway. The Yugoro, like all others of its race, was ape-like, with four arms, covered head to toe in dark hair, and larger than even himself, the Yugoro¡¯s presence was intimidating¡­ to standard humans. Hoplite had killed so many Yugoro in his time that they hardly seemed terrifying. While he had killed many of the four armed apes, he had killed far more pugs than anything in the Final Kind¡¯s army. Squat, weak, stupid, clad in plastic armor to make them think they were safe, they were perfect fodder. Their elephantine gray skin was coarse, rough looking, but he knew just how thin it was. Their big bug eyes and putrid dog-like faces made him feel sick to look upon them. He stalked this group for a long while, waiting for an opportunity¡­ until finally, they rounded a corner, and Hoplite snapped the neck of the last pug, killing it instantly. He lifted the corpse and moved down the hall, away from the group. They would see that one of their retinue was missing and try to come find it¡­ so he needed to make artwork for them to find, sewing the first seeds of terror. He spotted a supply closet and disappeared within, dismembering the body and tossing its limbs about haphazardly, ripping out intestines and hanging them about the shelves like ribbons. He then took the head and a broom, sticking the Pug¡¯s head on top before leaning it against the wall of the closet. When that was done, he dipped his fingers into a puddle of its grayish blood, trailing it down the hall in little streaks. Then, he climbed the wall, hanging off the side of it like a spider, completely invisible. As he predicted, the patrol returned, the Yugoro letting out an irritated shout in its native tongue. Soon the pugs found the blood trail, pointing it out to their superior with nervous chittering. The Yugoro scowled, following the trail all the way up to the door of the broom closet. It opened the door, the pugs all gathering around to see what lay within. They all screamed in terror as they saw the art Hoplite had made, scattering down the halls in both directions, leaving the Yugoro standing before the closet. It tried to rally the pugs back to it, but the damage had been done. Psychologically pugs were weak, those ones would be scrambling to get out of the factory unless they could get under control. Which was why Hoplite wouldn¡¯t let that happen. The Yugoro ran past his position on the wall, screaming at the pugs to return, and that¡¯s when Hoplite dropped to the ground, quickly catching up with the jogging Yugoro before he bumped his chin, his armored fingertips parting and unfurling the Adium monowire within. Invisible to the naked eye and stronger even than Tungsteel, it could cut through the flesh of any living creature. Hoplite held his hands out, the monowire moving as if it had a mind of its own, deftly wrapping around the limbs before he ripped his hands backward. A spray of dark purplish blood gushed from the stumps where the Yugoro¡¯s arms had been, and it let out a screech of pure agony before it fell to its knees. Hoplite then wrapped all ten wires around its head before pulling once more, severing the alien''s skull into ten even slices. The pieces all fell to the concrete with a wet plop, followed by the torso. This kill was art already, it didn¡¯t need any improvement. Now with the Yugoro missing, its disappearance would be investigated, the fleeing pugs would spread the word to their kind about what had happened to their kin, sewing fear in the weak-minded aliens and leaving them prone to further psychological attacks. He¡¯d pull back for now, and spend some time picking off isolated troops before twisting their corpses into artwork, leaving them to be found later. It wasn¡¯t long before the factory was on high alert, with hundreds of aliens combing the halls together in an attempt to find whatever it was that had killed their comrades. Hoplite picked his victims meticulously, only killing when he knew he¡¯d not be exposed. He didn¡¯t want The Final Kind to know that it was a Hoplite doing this, it was better that they fear the unknown. Letting their minds work out what was committing these awful atrocities was far more effective than him openly showing himself¡­ at least for now. He had a few scare tactics that did involve revealing himself, but he¡¯d save those for when the terror had reached its apex. Half an hour later, and he¡¯d ended the lives of fifty aliens, mutilating them before spreading their entrails across the factory. Even the brave Yugoro¡¯s looked terrified now, having seen dozens of their own ilk reduced to little more than gory puddles. Their ape-like heads whipped this way and that, brown eyes wide and nostrils flaring. In another fifteen minutes of slaughter, the terror had reached the apex he had desired. The Final Kind¡¯s forces were behaving irrationally now, attacking inanimate objects, sometimes opening fire on their own, and screaming at one another in their alien language. That was when he began appearing. A retinue of about fifty pugs was running down a hall, plasma guns at the ready. Hoplite stood invisible, just behind the aliens, then disabled his cloaking. A Pug risked a glance back, letting out a shriek as it spotted him beneath a flickering yellow light. He then quickly cloaked himself again, running the other direction silently. He heard the thing chittering to its companions, which was exactly what he wanted. The majority of the alien forces within the factory were pugs, meaning that his main objective would be essentially complete if he could force them out into the open. If the fewer, more intelligent aliens decided to remain inside¡­ he would neutralize them all. After another hour of the terror operation, he achieved his goal. The halls and several rooms had been decorated from ceiling to floor with blood and gore, dismembered limbs could be found anywhere, and corpses were never in one piece. The Final Kind forces fled en masse out into the open, fish in a barrel for the sniper teams surrounding the building. Hoplite climbed the ladder to the roof once again, seeing a solitary Pug standing at the edge of the roof. Seeing no other aliens nearby, Hoplite approached the creature from behind, intent on kicking it over the edge. As it turned out, however, that was not necessary, for the Pug cast itself from the rooftop, its head cracking onto the rough soil before being trampled by its fleeing compatriots. Once the mass of aliens were far enough away from the building, the surrounding hills exploded with gunfire. Heads popped, limbs were blown off, torso¡¯s were perforated, it was pure pandemonium. Hoplite couldn¡¯t help but feel his face twist upward slightly in a sick mockery of a standard human¡¯s grin. The satisfaction of a successful plan filled him with unequivocal joy¡­ If only Lord Jyn were here to see his accomplishment¡­ He put a hand to his armored brow, suddenly becoming dizzy. Lord Jyn¡­ Find this and other great novels on the author''s preferred platform. Support original creators! He shook his head, warding off the fuzzy memory only to see that the gunfire had ended. Smoke billowed from the hills, completely obscuring the troops on the hillside. Operation Poltergeist had been a resounding success and now this factory, the entire colony even, was clear of Final Kind forces. Now that it was liberated, they could begin to build up a strike force to retake that which had been lost. It would take years, decades even, but eventually he was certain that victory would be Terna¡¯s. Now, he would need to descend back into the factory and do one more sweep, killing off any remaining survivors. He turned from the killing field, but before he started for the ladder¡­ he noticed a bright green glow off to his left. A plasma weapon? He drew his silenced Fortis, a long dark magnum, taking aim but seeing not an alien, but a glowing green ovoid. It hovered just above the pile of Swaglay corpses that he¡¯d created, its surface cloudy and almost seeming to pulsate. What in the world was that? Was it some kind of new Final Kind weapon? Why was it stationary? Who created it? Hoplite kept his gun trained on the thing, bumping his chin to enable comms, ¡°Sir, this is Hoplite Twenty-Two, there is an anomaly on the roof of the factory.¡± ¡°Enable the camera on your helmet, Hoplite.¡± He heard from his comms. He complied with the order, bumping his chin and streaming what he saw directly to the commander, ¡°What the hell?¡± He said as the feed reached him, ¡°Keep your distance Hoplite, I¡¯ve never seen anything like that.¡± ¡°Roger that, should I open fire or clear the factory now?¡± Hoplite asked. ¡°Head down into the factory and-¡± The ovoid then screeched, the green glow intensifying and forcefully dimming his visor. Hoplite opened fire, but the bullets simply phased through the thing, leaving it completely unscathed. It rushed down the hill of corpses, seemingly charging directly for him. He ceased fire, silently sprinting off to the left so the strange projectile would miss him. It had to be some kind of new pre-fired plasma weapon¡­ or something of that nature. It could clearly react to taking fire after all, but with him being cloaked there was no way it would hit him. He turned his head as he ran, seeing the ovoid change course to continue pursuing him. How could that be!? His cloaking was active, he was making no noise, no body heat could emanate from the suit, he was all but completely invisible¡­ how could it follow him? Perhaps it was just flying about randomly, and just so happened to pick the path that Hoplite had chosen. Yes, surely that was it. He veered off sharply in another direction, but again the ovoid pursued him, seeming to get faster as the chase continued. He weaved around air control units and satellites to try and throw it off, but it only continued its pursuit, following his path exactly. It was impossible that it didn¡¯t know where he was, meaning his cloaking was all but pointless. He ran quickly toward the edge of the roof and jumped, impacting the ground hard. The shock was heavily reduced through the shock absorbers in his suit and joints. ¡°Commander,¡± Hoplite shouted over the comms, ¡°It keeps following me.¡± He turned his head to see the ovoid descending from the roof, heading directly for him. Hoplite shot forward, disabling the levitators to get a better foothold in the soil. ¡°Lure it toward the killing field,¡± The commander ordered, ¡°I¡¯ll order the men to open fire on it to see if we can disable it.¡± ¡°Affirmative.¡± Hoplite replied. It didn¡¯t take long for him to reach his top speed, exceeding seventy miles per hour¡­ and still the ovoid was gaining on him. The hills exploded with gunfire once more, and he risked a glance back only to see every single bullet phase through the thing, the rounds impacting soil and corpses alike. The plan wasn¡¯t working, whatever this was it couldn¡¯t be set off by impacts¡­ would it even be able to really touch him then? He turned forward, head ducking down as he focused purely on the sprint and nothing else. He could hear the worbling shriek of the thing growing closer and closer, until finally- Hoplite impacted with the bloodied ground face first, his helmet rebounding from the force of the impact. Unfazed, he looked back, seeing that his right foot had been caught by the ovoid. It hovered still now, holding him firmly in place. Hoplite dug his fingers into the soil, trying to drag himself free from this anomaly to no avail. He felt himself being pulled in, his leg slowly being devoured by the thing. A Rhino drove down quickly from the hill, quickly parking just in front of him. Both feet had been absorbed now, and the marines in the jeep quickly dismounted, pulling the tow line installed at the front of the Rhino to him. ¡°Grab onto this sir!¡± One marine shouted, ¡°We¡¯ll get ya out of there!¡± Hoplite complied, grabbing the hook tightly, ¡°Reverse the Rhino marine!¡± ¡°Sir yes sir!¡± The man shouted, quickly hopping back into the Rhino and shifting it to reverse. It was a large, powerful vehicle that was capable of towing even tanks¡­ but once the tow line went taught, the Rhino¡¯s tires were left spinning uselessly. Hoplite struggled to hold on, but felt his shoulders beginning to pop out of their sockets, and he was forced to let go. The ovoid was absorbing him faster now, his lower body now completely submerged within. The other marines tried to pull him out, grabbing his hands and tugging with all their might, but again the ovoid proved too strong, but still they refused to let go. ¡°Hoplite,¡± The commander said, ¡°What is your status?¡± ¡°I can¡¯t feel my legs¡­¡± Hoplite told him honestly, ¡°I think this may be it, sir. Win this war, the building blocks for victory have been set.¡± ¡°Don¡¯t say crap like that!¡± One marine shouted, ¡°We¡¯re getting you out of there-¡± ¡°It¡¯s useless, marine.¡± Hoplite told him, feeling his waist vanish, ¡°I¡¯m already dead. I order you to let me go.¡± The marines hesitated for an instant before complying, releasing Hoplite¡¯s hands. ¡°Hoplite¡­¡± The commander said, ¡°I¡¯ll bring us back from the brink. Thank you for your service.¡± ¡°Thank you sir!¡± The marines shouted, saluting, ¡°I¡¯ll make sure you aren¡¯t forgotten, Twenty-Two.¡± The commander said. ¡°Affirmative.¡± Hoplite replied¡­ oddly content with his imminent fate, ¡°Now clear out, it might still be active when I¡¯m gone. Retreat.¡± With that, the marines all piled back into the Rhino, driving off toward the hill. Hoplite was not afraid of his death, this was the ultimate end for any super-soldier. He¡¯d merely reached his expiration date¡­ He found himself hoping that Thirty-Seven had survived the fall of Earth somehow. Terna would need as many Hoplite¡¯s as they could get, and he had always been the strongest. It wasn¡¯t long before the ovoid consumed him up to his shoulders, then the lower half of his face. The last thing he saw before the blackness took him was the bloodied killing field, littered with Final Kind corpses. However¡­ instead of dying, he felt himself falling. He opened his eyes to see an infinite multi-colored hellscape, ever twisting and writhing, an incomprehensible kaleidoscope. Colors that he¡¯d never seen flowed around him, but nothing else in this space existed. He fell, faster and faster through this boundless void, teeth clenching as he wondered when he¡¯d land. Frost began to coat the Kryptes suit, the apparent cold of this realm trying to breach the armor. ¡°Commander!¡± Hoplite shouted over the comms, ¡°I¡¯m not dead but I¡¯m falling, can you get a read on my location!?¡± The only reply he got was pure static. Wherever he was, Hoplite was well out of signal range. What was this place, and where was it taking him? Was there an end to this? There seemed to be no ground in sight, would he fall forever? A sense of dread began to fill him at the prospect. It would take him a long time to die off from falling, not until the oxygen in his suit was all gone. His Logitek co-processor kicked in, slowing his perception of time to a crawl. Was there a way out of this situation? He could see nothing to grab onto, nothing to land on, no end¡­ but wait, what was that black circle at the corner of his vision? He turned his head to see it more clearly. It was almost directly below him, its surface area expanding the closer he fell towards it. A platform? Perhaps, he would attempt to land on it, hopefully his shock absorbers could handle the impact, he¡¯d been falling for several seconds now after all. He tucked his knees in, preparing to impact with the dark surface¡­ but the collision never came. He seemed to phase right through the void, and he found himself surrounded by darkness, feeling himself still falling. Yet, this descent no longer felt like a free fall, rather, it felt as if he were sinking through muck. Eventually this too ceased, and he fell again, but only for an instant, finally impacting with solid ground. He immediately stood, surveying his surroundings. It seemed as if he¡¯d landed in a dimly lit stone chamber, with only candles giving off any source of light. He was surrounded by a thick circle of these strange candles, with blue wax and a red flame. He stood atop a purplish carpet, strange runes having been engraved on its surface. He wasn¡¯t alone here either, a dozen humanoid figures surrounded him, wearing dark robes. They were all fellow humans, but there was something off about them, he didn¡¯t think that these were friendlies. ¡°I cannot believe it!¡± One shouted, ¡°We finally managed to summon a real Outworlder, the wish is ours!¡± ¡°Once we sacrifice it, we¡¯ll have a wish, our order will become powerful again!¡± A woman declared, raising her arms to the sky. ¡°Do not say such things in front of it!¡± Another shouted, ¡°It can hear you!¡± ¡°It cannot speak Faesh, there is no harm¡­ besides that, why is it so big? Is this really a man? He¡¯s bigger than an oni.¡± A bearded man said, ¡°He must be a human, just abnormally large.¡± ¡°You will all need to identify immediately or be executed.¡± Hoplite said, ¡°I don¡¯t know what you¡¯re planning, but I won¡¯t let it happen.¡± The room fell silent, the circle of people all taking a step back and gasping. ¡°It speaks Faesh!¡± One shouted, ¡°How can this be!?¡± ¡°Jynesian.¡± Hoplite said flatly, ¡°You¡¯re speaking Jynesian.¡± ¡°The ritual cannot summon someone from our world, it is impossible.¡± ¡°Yet he speaks our tongue! The ritual was a fluke!¡± ¡°It was not, somehow, Faesh has become the common tongue of the Outworlders¡­ it does not matter, I do not care to learn why. We need our wish, begin the sacrifice!¡± Hoplite didn¡¯t know what they were prattling on about, and frankly he didn¡¯t care. He rushed the nearest robed man, intent on driving his fingers through his chest¡­ but instead of that, he collided with some sort of invisible barrier, being flung backward like he¡¯d impacted with a trampoline. He kept his footing, but stared, bewildered by what had just happened. They had managed to erect a forcefield generator in this circle, but where was the generator? He couldn¡¯t see it anywhere in the chamber, just the people, the carpet, and the candles. ¡°It is pointless, Outworlder!¡± The bearded man shouted, ¡°Begin the chant, summon forth Shenra so we can receive our wish-¡± Hoplite drew his suppressed Fortis and fired, the round punching through the forcefield and exploding the robed man¡¯s skull. The forcefield, strangely enough, seemed to shatter like glass, falling to the ground before immediately vanishing. Why did it not burst? There should have been an audible pop, like when his energy shield bursted. The headless corpse fell to its knees, falling forward and landing with a wet plop. ¡°Heril!¡± A woman screeched, rushing over to the body with shaking hands, ¡°No, you can¡¯t go like-¡± Hoplite rushed forward and kicked her in the ribs, the impact reducing her bones to powder and organs to jelly. She collided with the stone wall, spattering it with gore before the body slid down in a heap. The other robed humans began screaming in horror, scrambling toward a closed wooden door. Hoplite magnetized the Fortis to his thigh, unfurling the monowire from his fingertips and pursuing the survivors. He wrapped it around arms, legs, throats, giving sharp tugs and separating the limbs with ease. The ones who didn¡¯t die immediately screamed in agony as they floundered uselessly in puddles of their own blood, lacking arms and legs to properly escape. Only one man remained whole, which was Hoplite¡¯s intent. The man reached the door, but as soon as his hand touched the knob, Hoplite gripped it in his own. He squeezed, shattering the hand and sending him reeling back in agony, ¡°Identify.¡± Hoplite ordered, ¡°Or be executed.¡± ¡°I-I am ugh!¡± He groaned, holding the shattered remains of his hand and kneeling, ¡°I am Nemor, son of-¡± ¡°I don¡¯t care who your parents are.¡± Hoplite cut him off, ¡°Where am I and where is the nearest Eighth Arm base?¡± This should still be the factory world Galler, he¡¯d just need to find out which part, then he could rendezvous with his allies. ¡°I know not what you speak of, Outworlder. This is Faenor, the Shard known as Yulon. We summoned you from another dimension to serve a-as sacrifice to a Faelord.¡± Hoplite frowned, ¡°You are insane.¡± He stated, ¡°Where is the nearest Eighth Arm base?¡± ¡°There is no such place here on Yulon¡­¡± Nemor groaned, ¡°I speak truth, you are not of this realm¡­ just please let me go, I¡¯m sorry.¡± Not of this realm? Summoned to be a sacrifice? The apparent insanity of these individuals was clear, whatever this facility was, it had to be purged. ¡°I will kill you unless you start making sense.¡± He threatened in a monotone, ¡°I don¡¯t have time to waste.¡± ¡°You were absorbed by a green portal¡­ right?¡± Nemor asked, ¡°That was our doing, we created it with our magic-¡± Hoplite quickly ripped Nemor¡¯s right ear clean off with a swift motion, sending the cultist screaming to the stone. ¡°Cut the crap.¡± Hoplite snarled, ¡°Just tell me how many of you are in this base, and where the exit is. Then you can go.¡± Nemor clutched his ear with his unbroken hand, ¡°Y-you mean it?¡± ¡°Of course.¡± Hoplite replied. ¡°There are about a hundred of us here¡­ mostly human but there are a few goblins that serve as labor. If you take a left down the hall beyond that door, it will lead to the courtyard¡­ after that, the gates should be visible¡­ that¡¯s all I know. Please let me go-¡± Hoplite jabbed his finger directly through Nemor¡¯s forehead, puncturing the brain and killing him instantly. He immediately headed for the door, not staying to watch Nemor¡¯s body hit the floor. He enabled his cloaking, and opened the door, seeing a strange looking mutant standing there, staring with shaky legs at the bloody scene. It was a short, skinny green creature, covered in warts. Its long nose matched its wide flappy ears, its yellow-goat eyes wide with terror. Hoplite drew the Sectis and jabbed it through the skull of the mutant, killing it instantly. Stepping over the body and into the hall, he considered his options. Nemor could have been lying to send him further into the abyss of this strange place¡­ but even if that was a lie, Hoplite fully intended on killing everything living within it. These cultists were a threat to the Ternan public and needed to be executed. He would not leave until it was done. Chapter One: Endless Sky Hoplite finished off the last living cultist in the facility, slicing him cleanly in half with his monowire. This strange base seemed to resemble that of a medieval castle, with stone walls, sconces, strange paintings and more. He didn¡¯t know how they had managed to hide something like this from Ternan authorities, but Hoplite didn¡¯t really care. All that mattered now was that they were dead, no more problems would arise from these freaks. He had also killed their stock of mutant servants, the squat green ones. It had been easy, no one here seemed to possess even the most basic ballistic weaponry. All they wielded were crossbows and bladed weapons that were useless against the Kryptes suit. At least, they would have been useless, had they managed to even land a hit off on him. His cloaking had ensured that wouldn¡¯t happen. Why were they so under armed¡­? Was all that talk about this being an alternate dimension true? He shook his head, that was impossible, these humans had just gone insane and had reverted to a medieval way of thinking. Lord Jyn would- His thoughts became fuzzy again, and he froze, shaking his head. What was he thinking about? Ah yes, leaving this place. He had found the entrance easily enough, it was a barred gate made of iron, designed to rise once a lever was pulled. It led outside for sure, for daylight bled between the bars to illuminate the dark halls. He kept his cloaking active, flipping a large lever next to the gate and seeing it rise. Hoplite waited a minute after it was fully raised, seeing if someone would come investigate why it had opened¡­ and that¡¯s exactly what happened. Two armored men wielding poleaxes peeked their heads around the corner, their eyes narrowed. ¡°No one¡¯s there?¡± One asked, looking to the other. ¡°Aye¡­ it''s strange yeah?¡± The other asked. ¡°Should we go investigate?¡± ¡°They pay us to stand out here and look pretty.¡± The other replied, ¡°I ain¡¯t going in there, and you shouldn¡¯t either. Who knows what those Shenra weirdos get up to.¡± ¡°Don¡¯t speak so casually!¡± The other guard whispered harshly, ¡°They might turn you into a toad or somesuch.¡± ¡°Doubt it. I¡¯d like to see em¡¯ try. I¡¯m a real man, unlike you.¡± They then pulled their heads away from the entrance, continuing to jabber and leaving Hoplite to consider his options. These two didn¡¯t seem like they understood exactly what was going on within this castle, being paid to stand guard outside. Killing them may not be necessary¡­ but if they knew that this was at least against Ternan law, they¡¯d be accomplices. Execution still seemed the most optimal choice here. Was it truly something he needed to do though? These two said so themselves, they have no idea what goes on within this facility, just that they¡¯re being paid to stand guard. This situation was not unfamiliar to him. How many corrupt First Arm nobility had he killed that hired people just like this to protect their property? He had never killed those unless it was mission critical, executing these men while letting those others live didn¡¯t sit right with him. For now, he¡¯d spare the gate guards, they wouldn''t want or be able to restart operations here, and once they decided to investigate the castle¡­ they¡¯d never want to return here again. He walked through the open gate casually, passing the gossiping guards and entering into a courtyard. A statue stood tall above a flowing marble fountain, depicting a bat-winged monstrosity with two human faces and the body of a wolf. One face was sneering in disgust, while the other laughed, seemingly in mockery. Was that the ¡®god¡¯ that they served? It was putrid. A plaque on the fountain read, ¡®Devoted to our lord Shenra, God of Trickery¡¯. Hoplite sneered back at the statue, desiring to split it apart with his monowire. However, doing so would unfortunately reveal that he was there, so he abstained. Once he got back to the Eighth Arm, he¡¯d need to report this place. If these guards got arrested and re-indoctrinated, then oh well. If they had any sense they would leave, just as Hoplite was doing now. He moved through the courtyard and toward another gate, this one closed just like the other one. Several other guards stood watch over the wall, more on guard than the two stationed at the inner gate. It was a good thing that Hoplite had killed the cultists as quickly as he had, for these men would no doubt be on high alert had any escaped. He¡¯d not open the gate this time, instead, he¡¯d opt to climb the wall. The Adium spikes were not needed, the thin grooves of the stone brickwork would provide all the grip he¡¯d need. Now that he was looking up, he noticed something odd about the sky¡­ it must have been sunset to produce that color, but he¡¯d not seen this on any other world before. It was a very deep shade of purple. It was bizarre but this was nothing compared to being eaten and then spat out by the glowing green ovoid. Once he reached the top of the wall however¡­ he very nearly gasped at what he saw below. The sun was¡­ it was beneath, shining up from the infinite void below. Masses of land floated throughout this void, some small, others large. They were both above and below him¡­ even the land he stood on now, this facility that he had thought was back on the colony that he¡¯d just liberated¡­ It too, was a floating island. His eyes nearly popped from the shock of it all. Hoplite felt something akin to nausea as he looked down into the purple expanse. Would he fall forever if he stepped off this island right now? Would he exit the atmosphere- but wait, what atmosphere!? This didn¡¯t make any damn sense! He whirled on the nearest guard, an isolated individual, wrapping his hand around his mouth and dragging him away. Hoplite made sure not to make any noise, not allowing the poleaxe he wielded to fall to the stone on the wall. The man struggled in vain against the invisible force assailing him, not a sound able to escape his throat. Once he was out of sight of the other guards on the wall, Hoplite pinned the man to the floor, one hand firmly on his mouth. He drew the Sectis, uncloaking and placing the blade against his throat. ¡°If you scream, I¡¯ll kill you and interrogate the next man instead.¡± Hoplite threatened in a monotone, ¡°Answer me, where am I?¡± He asked, removing his hand from his mouth. This novel''s true home is a different platform. Support the author by finding it there. ¡°Y-you are at a temple to Shenra, God of Trickery.¡± The man stammered, ¡°Please, I don¡¯t worship him, I¡¯m just trying to make some extra money-¡± ¡°I don¡¯t care why you¡¯re here.¡± Hoplite cut him off, ¡°What colony is this, and in what sector, why are those islands floating?¡± The man¡¯s eyes widened in shock, ¡°I don¡¯t k-know what you mean by that. This Shard is called Yulon.¡± Nemor had said the same thing, and had also said that Hoplite was an ¡®Outworlder¡¯. This environment should not exist, the rules of physics were warped¡­ It couldn¡¯t be true that this was an alternate dimension¡­ right? If only Thirty-Seven were here to rationalize this! ¡°What is an Outworlder?¡± The man gasped, ¡°Are you one?¡± ¡°Answer the question or I¡¯ll throw you off this island.¡± ¡°They¡¯re people- humans, summoned from another realm to Faenor¡­ usually as a sacrifice to circumvent The Ban.¡± He continued shakily, ¡°I won¡¯t tell anyone what you are- just please don¡¯t kill me.¡± He began to weep silently, ¡°I don¡¯t wanna die¡­¡± ¡°Quit bawling.¡± Hoplite ordered, ¡°Is there a nearby Eighth Arm base, and if there is, how do I get out of here?¡± ¡°I know not what you speak of, but there¡¯s an airship- it¡¯s about to leave this island, just below the gates is the dock- now please let me- ack!¡± Hoplite pinched his arteries until he fell unconscious, standing from the guard and reactivating his cloaking. ¡°Rinny, where did you go?¡± He heard a man ask, ¡°You better not be sleeping again or we¡¯re all gonna beat you senseless!¡± Hoplite glanced down at the unconscious form of Rinny for just an instant before he left, leaping down from the wall and landing cleanly on the cobbled stones surrounding it. He heard shouts from above, likely they had found Rinny. He darted to the edge of the floating island, looking down to see a ship. Not an actual ship meant to travel the skies, but a galleon that should have been sailing the seas. It was made of wood, with a cloth sail, rope rigging attached to a mast- all of it floating over the vast emptiness. He knew not why it could simply hover in mid-air, but he knew that his escape would involve him going aboard that ship. However, just as he was about to run down the stairs leading to the docks, the ship began to float away from it, several members of the ship untying the ropes that kept it anchored. Hoplite grit his teeth as it began drifting, but saw that it was beginning to float beneath the island he stood on. In fact, it was approaching his position. Hoplite steeled himself, and waited for the right moment before he leapt off the edge of the island, falling down toward the ship. It would be a hard landing, and it would no doubt alert the crew, but with his cloaking enabled they wouldn¡¯t be able to see him. When he hit the deck, the wood splintered beneath his feet, and the crew was nearly sent into a panic. ¡°By the Overseer, what the hell was that!?¡± A man behind the wheel of the ship cried from above, ¡°Are we under attack?¡± Hoplite quickly enabled the anti-gravity of his boots, quickly leaving the scene of his crash as the crew approached to investigate. They were all dressed informally, with some men wearing breastplates while others wore long tailored coats or even went shirtless. They looked more like a pirate crew, a rabble only tied together by a lust for treasure. Ternan space had such individuals, as did the Final Kind. He easily swerved and avoided collisions with the crewmembers, hearing them chatter wildly about the dent in their ship. Had Hoplite been wearing the Phalanx suit, there would have simply been a hole there, but thankfully for both him and the crew, the Kryptes suit was relatively lightweight. He looked back up to the man who worked the wheel controlling the ship, a tired looking man with a bald head and dark mutton-chops. At least, he assumed he was the captain. He even had a cutlass at his belt, the only thing missing was the hat. Hoplite could hold him hostage and demand that he take him to the nearest Ternan facility¡­ but the odds that he¡¯d know what Hoplite was talking about were basically impossible. As much as he wanted to deny it, the fact was that he was in someplace outside his understanding. Floating islands, magical barriers, wooden ships held aloft by nothing, all these things, combined with what had happened with the ovoid and his fall through that colorful space, worked to convince him that those cultists just might have been telling the truth. For now, he would need to keep an open mind to adapt to these new circumstances, as he¡¯d been trained. There had to be reasons for all these things to work the way they did, he¡¯d not go mad trying to make sense of it by himself. For now, he¡¯d stay hidden on this ship, eavesdrop on the crew, and gather as much intel as he could manage. For a long while they simply chittered about the mysterious dent in their ship, wondering as to what might have caused it. Eventually though, they all dispersed, going back to work and leaving a few men behind to mend the deck. He maneuvered his way up to where the captain was, hovering a few feet away from him and listening to the crew below with his bionic ears. ¡°Capn¡¯ Terg,¡± A crewmate said, approaching the captain, ¡°We don¡¯t know what caused the breach, there¡¯s just nothin¡¯ there. We got the shipwrights fixing it up now.¡± Terg groaned, wiping some sweat from his brow, ¡°Could a rock have fallen down and somehow bounced off into the sky?¡± ¡°Maybe sir, I¡¯ve seen it happen before.¡± The man replied. ¡°Not while you were on my ship no doubt.¡± Terg replied, ¡°We¡¯ll continue on as planned, we¡¯ve a few more deliveries to the surrounding islands we gotta complete before we¡¯re paid.¡± ¡°Aye aye.¡± The man said, saluting. Hoplite wondered¡­ if this was a different dimension, why were these people speaking in Jynesian? Earlier, the cultists had said he was speaking Faesh¡­ there had to be a connection there somehow. If he was an Outworlder, that meant that other people from Ternan space had been brought here before. Maybe in this world¡¯s past, a Ternan had managed to escape sacrifice, and had become hugely influential, somehow making Jynesian the dominant language here. Why the name changed to Faesh, he didn¡¯t know, but for now that was the only conclusion he could draw. Or perhaps¡­ maybe Lord Jyn- He nearly doubled over, mind going fuzzy and vomit nearly spilling from his mouth. What¡­ what had he been thinking about? He regained his senses, standing tall once more. Did he have some kind of disease? That shouldn¡¯t have been possible, his body was completely inhospitable to any type of virus¡­ yet his symptoms were there, nausea, brain fog, intense dizziness, what was the cause? ¡°Alright all of y''all, we¡¯re going to Onica to deliver the next shipment, be on your guard around those horn-heads!¡± The captain shouted, ¡°The oni are expecting food n¡¯ booze, so you better not be siphoning from that or I¡¯ll kill ya and let the horn-heads eat what''s left!¡± The crew gave a half-hearted ¡®aye-aye¡¯ in reply, leaving Terg grumbling with discontent. Oni were mythological beings were they not? The fact that the term ¡®horn-head¡¯ was used implied that they had mutated from standard humanity. At least¡­ they would be standard humanity if this were his own reality. A sense of cold dread slowly started to worm its way into his mind as he realized that returning to Ternan space might just be impossible. He forced out the dread, letting his discipline reign supreme. If there was a way to get into this place, then there would also be a way out. He was too hasty slaughtering those cultists, for they had brought him here, allegedly. Even had he let them live though, there was no guarantee that they would send him back, or even that they could. His actions back in the castle had been right. Since he was the only Eighth Arm personnel available here, then he would need to take charge¡­ of himself. The current mission priority would be finding a way back to Galler, the factory world he¡¯d been taken from. He¡¯d gather intel, learn more about the locals, and find individuals that might be able to send him back. Chapter Two: Onica Terg sighed as he finally spotted the port to Onica, grateful that this cursed journey was soon to be over. The airship was lowering to the long stone docks now, where a group of oni awaited. They were massive creatures, some standing taller than even his biggest crew member. There were a scant few oni that could be considered ¡®short¡¯, at least compared to humans. In fact, as they drew closer to the dock, he could see the tallest oni he¡¯d ever seen. A woman no less, head and shoulders taller than the rest of her kindred. Strangely enough, despite being so massive, her horns were not visible from here. The others had their horns sticking out, blood-red and coming in all sorts of shapes and sizes. Terg considered recruiting some of these horn-heads for his crew, it had been a while since he¡¯d gone on a proper raid and who better than the oni to help him do it? There were plenty of smaller islands around, ripe for the taking. All this delivery work was driving him insane, he needed a break. Things had only gone downhill since they left the shrine of Shenra. Food kept ¡®mysteriously¡¯ disappearing, his crew members no doubt raiding the larder in the small hours of the night. Strange thing was that even after he assigned men to guard the larder, the food still disappeared. Naturally he suspected the guards, but they had insisted that they hadn¡¯t. So, a few nights ago, he¡¯d kept guard himself, ensuring that no one could enter. He¡¯d made sure it was empty before locking it up¡­ But somehow, the food had still disappeared. It was baffling, and he soon began to suspect that his ship had some kind of rat infestation. Yet, no matter where the crew looked, none of the little rodents could be found anywhere. There weren''t even droppings in the secluded crags where such creatures would nest. As a result¡­ Their larder was almost empty, meaning that he and his crew would need to trade for as much food as possible before setting off. A good raid or two on a helpless village ought to replenish the losses and then some. ¡°Set us down!¡± Terg shouted, maneuvering the boat to be parallel with the stone dock. As his men worked the deck, he looked over Onica, seeing the towering crimson bamboo stalks that occluded the valley behind them. They were taller than even his ship, and far thicker. It was hard to see how the oni had even managed to find the path here, for there were no trails or openings through the bamboo that he could see. He only knew of the valley beyond: He¡¯d seen it before whenever he had to fly over the island, but he¡¯d never been allowed to go in. Not that he would want to of course, the horn-heads might be liable to eat him. Once they were docked, the leading oni approached, with black horns like a bull. He wore gleaming armor of solid steel that contrasted with his dark red eyes. His face was hard like a rock, cut with sheer angles. He could have been, in all Terg¡¯s days, the scariest looking oni he¡¯d ever come across. Looking at the rest of them, they didn¡¯t look all that much nicer¡­ except the largest of them, ironically. Maybe it was because she was a woman? Sure, she had a few scars on her face, but she at least didn¡¯t look like a sentient rock. Unlike the others, she actually had a good growth of hair on her head, lavender in hue. These others barely had any hair on their heads at all, or were just outright bald. Unlike the terrifying oni leader, her eyes were a cool blue, and held a sort of softness to them, it was shocking to see. As he saw from high above, her horns had not grown in yet, still being flesh-wrapped knubs. She clearly wasn¡¯t an adolescent though, given her size¡­ perhaps her physical growth had taken priority over her horns? Hard to say. They lowered the wide wooden ramp to the dock below, connecting his ship to Onica. He then let out a sigh and made his way over to the plank, removing his hat and bowing deeply to the gathered oni. ¡°I¡¯m captain Terg,¡± He introduced himself, standing from his bow, ¡°I come with some supplies requested by you. I am the man who took the job. You wanted steel ingots, yes?¡± Terg asked the lead oni, the terrifying one. ¡°That¡¯s right.¡± The creature replied, voice like gravel, ¡°I am Mekta, diplomat.¡± Terg had to resist the urge to squint. Why the hell would anyone ever appoint this hulking demon to be a diplomat? Maybe that was why¡­ scare any visitors into behaving properly. Well, Terg wasn¡¯t an idiot, he wasn¡¯t going to go about misbehaving on Onica. ¡°Yes good, we¡¯ll unload it here. As for payment, we require some additional food, you may subtract the total of food cost from the gold you¡¯ll owe us.¡± Terg said. Mekta nodded, ¡°Very well, see it done.¡± Terg again glanced at the largest of the oni, considering asking her to join his crew. She was wearing some well-crafted plate armor after all, and he assumed she could swing a blade well enough, considering the large hilt sticking out from the scabbard on her back. She¡¯d be good in a raid alright. Still, he¡¯d not have it be a direct question¡­ that may offend the gathered oni. ¡°I also am offering cabin space for any oni that wishes to join my crew.¡± Terg said, locking eyes with the large woman, ¡°You¡¯ll be well rewarded.¡± Much to his satisfaction, the oni girl seemed to consider this for a moment, hand going to the blue gemstone that hung from a matching¡­ was that a collar she was wearing about her neck? Strange fashion indeed, but it was good that she was considering the offer. ¡°Our warriors will not part Onica.¡± Mekta snarled, ¡°Bring the ingots, now.¡± ¡°Straight away.¡± Terg said, taking an involuntary step back at Mekta¡¯s tone. Some diplomat he was. Why couldn¡¯t the oni leave if they wished? Were they worried that some threat may be approaching? Perhaps, but then again oni were a rare sight outside their island, and the ones he did encounter out in the Skies were tight-lipped about the goings on of Onica. The girl looked slightly miserable as he backed away onto the ship¡­ clearly she wanted to leave, despite what Mekta claimed. This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there. Maybe if he could get her alone, Terg could convince her to come along? It was risky, but having such an impressive figure leading his raids could be quite lucrative. There was a problem though, how would he get her away from Mekta and her fellows? If he asked her in front of them, Terg was certain that a conflict would ensue, especially after being warned about it before. He looked her over one last time¡­ quickly assessing her potential value in battle. She was tall of course, but compared to her kindred she wasn¡¯t quite as wide. There were still curves beneath all that armor he was sure, but there was lean power in that frame. She was likely very quick with that blade of hers, and with her weight behind it, the edge may just be able to split armor. There was also the fact that she was an oni, their race was known for their great physical capabilities, and the fact that she¡¯d been chosen to accompany Mekta and these other terrifying figures lent credence to his suspicions. They¡¯d not send someone who couldn¡¯t fight to meet with Terg. This girl certainly had potential. He turned away from them, looking to his men before ordering them to bring up the ingots from below decks. There were a dozen crates, all massively heavy for a human¡­ but for an oni the may be easier to carry. An idea then struck him then, and he grinned lifting the first of the crates and receiving strange looks from his crew. ¡°Sir?¡± One asked, ¡°You don¡¯t do the lifting around here¡­ what¡¯s going on?¡± ¡°Gotta make sure my back stays strong is all.¡± Terg stated, ¡°Now bring up the rest.¡± ¡°Aye captain.¡± He replied. Terg struggled with the small crate, easing it down the ramp with shaky breathes. It had to weigh as much as he himself did, thank goodness that he wasn¡¯t pencil-necked, otherwise this plan would be impossible. The oni below all looked unconcerned with Terg¡¯s struggles, all save for one, the girl. Her eyes were wide with concern at seeing Terg struggle with the crate, and she approached, whispering something in Mekta¡¯s ear. The diplomat sighed and urged her forward, and the oni woman approached, coming up the ramp and holding out her hands. ¡°I can take that for you, if you¡¯d like.¡± She said. ¡°That would be mighty kind of you¡­¡± He replied, handing it over to her. When he was closer, he whispered, ¡°If you want to join my crew lass, you are more than welcome. Give your answer quickly so they don¡¯t grow suspicious.¡± ¡°Yes.¡± She whispered back quickly, barely hesitating. Well, that was easier than expected, ¡°I¡¯ll grab another and bring it down to you again, we¡¯ll talk more details as we pass them back and forth.¡± ¡°Hurry it along!¡± Mekta shouted, ¡°I will not stay here all day.¡± The oni woman nodded to Terg before turning around, taking the crate down to the dock. Terg turned back as well, taking another crate before meeting the oni once more. ¡°I am Miyu.¡± She whispered, ¡°How will we go about leaving?¡± ¡°Once the trade is complete, rush up the ramp and pull it onto the ship, then we will leave. I¡¯ll inform my men.¡± Terg said with a grin. Miyu nodded once again, taking the crate and depositing it on the dock. Mekta and his men then began unloading the wagon they had brought with them, containing crates and barrels filled to the brim with food. Supplies like this were often used to measure out differences if one party didn¡¯t have the proper amount of gold for trade, the skies could be cruel sometimes after all, and a bit of extra food could go a long way in ensuring one''s survival. As they had discussed, Terg informed his men about the oni joining their crew¡­ to which he received mixed reactions. Some were for it, others against it, but this was his ship and it was his rules. The detractors wouldn¡¯t dare rat out Terg to the oni, for it would be their heads on the line as well, so they kept their mouths shut. Once the crates were all deposited on the dock, he and his men began loading up on the food the oni had layed out. Miyu positioned herself by Mekta, looking like a tall willow next to a short, wide oak tree. Once all the supplies were loaded and the gold received, Terg locked eyes with Miyu and nodded. Like lightning, the woman charged up the ramp, her and Terg quickly pulling it up onto the deck and leaving Mekta and his men with no access to his ship. The diplomat stared with wide-eyes, stunned by what had just transpired. The other gathered oni too looked shocked, staring at Miyu with jaws agape. Interesting¡­ this truly was something that they had not expected of her to do. ¡°Princess!¡± Mekta shouted, ¡°What are you doing!?¡± It was Terg¡¯s turn for his jaw to drop, turning to stare at Miyu. ¡°I want to live my own way, Mekta. Farewell!¡± She yelled with a wave, ¡°I¡¯m not coming back!¡± ¡°We¡¯ll see about that!¡± Mekta growled, ¡°To the valley! We must give chase!¡± Terg paled, putting a hand over his mouth as he and his men stared in shock at Miyu. ¡°You be a princess!?¡± Terg shouted, ¡°By The Overseer, we need to get out of here now!¡± This was not good, this was not good in the least. All of Onica¡¯s navy would give chase now, armies of horn-heads would be coming after him now, all because he picked the wrong one to recruit! It was too late to give her back now, if they re-docked they¡¯d all be slaughtered. Their only hope now was to run and pray that they were never found. These skies were vast, and there were plenty of places they would be able to lay low in¡­ Damn it all. He¡¯d been expecting the oni to give chase, but with only one of their ships. No commoner was worth chasing to the ends of the Yulon, but a princess? That was a different story. ¡°Let''s get out of here men!¡± Terg shouted, pausing to glare at Miyu, ¡°You had best be worth all this damn trouble, girl.¡± ¡°Probably.¡± She said with a shrug, ¡°We have time, it¡¯s going to take them a while to return to the valley.¡± Terg didn¡¯t waste any more time speaking with her, racing up the steps and taking the helm, ¡°Raise the anchor!¡± He shouted, seeing the Oni men running back to the valley. It was good that they kept their ships in the middle of their island, if they had them at these docks they would have been doomed. Oni were thankfully paranoid about their airships, keeping them secure and only utilizing them if necessary. Dock-pirates were a very real thing, hijacking docked vessels before flying them off to Overseer knew where. Terg found himself thankful that those pirates had made the oni so paranoid. Now that they were floating away, he needed to pick their next destination. They would need to lay low for a while, so finding a distant island and docking there would be optimal. They would raid it of course, keeping the locals from leaving for a few months while they changed the appearance of his ship. He¡¯d need to change the name and flag too, for the oni had certainly seen them. What would be a good new name and flag? He shook his head, plenty of time to think on that later. His men all seemed to glare at Miyu as they performed their duties, no doubt upset that all of Onica was soon to come after them. The oni girl for her part, barely seemed to care, she was not afraid of this new environment, in fact, she seemed to adore it. Miyu spent a great amount of time inspecting the ship and looking over the side, her eyes wide with wonder. It would warm his cold bitter heart if he wasn¡¯t so furious with her. She¡¯d better pull her weight in these coming months. He considered abandoning her at the nearest island, but doing so likely wouldn¡¯t get Onica off their backs. To them, Terg had basically kidnapped her, even though that wasn¡¯t what happened. By their laws he and his entire crew would need to be executed, getting rid of Miyu now would be pointless. His crew however, didn¡¯t seem to understand that. Already he could see his men whispering to one another, no doubt scheming some way to be rid of the oni. Well, Terg wasn¡¯t going to allow that to happen, after going through all this trouble, there was no way he was giving her up now. Maybe he could seek refuge by swearing fealty to the Blood-Fang pirates? That was an option¡­ but would he really want to work under a vampire lord? He heard that captain Kain was brutal and cruel to his crew, more so than the worst of pirates. Terg supposed that came with the territory of being a vampire. Suffer beneath the Blood-Fang¡¯s banner, or be slaughtered by oni? Which one was worse? After some deliberation, Terg decided he¡¯d rather be hunted than be ¡®safe¡¯ working under Kain. The vampire ruled these skies, but that didn¡¯t mean that every merc ship worked beneath him. There were other pirate lords he could seek out if necessary. Terg wanted to remain independent though, and he¡¯d not throw that away unless his life depended on it. Thanks to Miyu however, he may just have to do that. Chapter Three: The Raid Miyu studied the small plate that lay on the table in front of her, still confused as to why the portion was so miniscule. Was it because the plate was small? Surely humans had to eat more than this¡­ right? She had been pondering this thought for the past few days every time she saw them eating their baby-sized portions. She stabbed her fork into the tough-looking meat, devouring the whole thing in one bite. The crew here in the mess hall all stared with wide-eyes at her consumption, some mouths hanging agape. It was just a small portion, nothing to be shocked about¡­ then again, that chunk had been roughly the size of a human fist. She took a look at the plates of the men surrounding her, seeing that they all had far smaller portions, that, and they had been taking small bites out of them. It was strange to see them eating so daintily, but they were humans. They had tiny mouths, it could not be helped. She devoured her share quickly, not wanting to remain in the mess hall for longer than necessary. It was a small chamber, cramped and reeking of sweat and dried food. Worse though was the stares she received from her crew mates. They did not seem happy that she was aboard. Miyu was no fool, she understood why. In their eyes she had tricked them into kidnapping her, and now Onica would be coming to take her back by force. Abandoning her would be pointless and could in fact make things worse. Miyu knew that this reasoning wouldn¡¯t be understood by all these men, all they would see was a great big horn-head that was nothing but trouble. The only way she could secure a position on this ship was to prove her worth in battle. That opportunity would no doubt come soon, captain Terg had been saying that he was looking to raid a nearby island, that his coffers needed to be replenished. They¡¯d been on the run for a few days now, and no oni airships had been spotted as of yet, so Terg was feeling more confident about setting down to pilfer some of the smaller islands. He had been considering raiding a village, but had thought it better to raid a bandit base instead. This decision was good, both because bandits would likely have more loot on them that was worth something, and because Miyu would have parted Terg¡¯s head from his body if he went after innocent people. The men on this ship were no real threat to her unless she fell asleep, she could split their skulls with a flick of her wrists if she so desired. If they turned their blades on village folk, that would be the last thing they ever did, she didn¡¯t care if she ended up stranded on some backwater farming island as a result. Still, she couldn¡¯t kill them if they planned on attacking innocents, she couldn¡¯t run a ship this size all by herself. Miyu would have to pretend to go along with the idea until they were boarding the island, then she could slaughter them all. Well, if that were to happen, anyway. She had no issue with slaying bandits, and that seemed to be Terg¡¯s goal. She made her way up to the deck, receiving harsh glares as she went. The sky was clear tonight, a rarity in Yulon. The dark sky was dotted with too many stars to count, they were above, below, all around the ship and gleaming like shards of shattered glass. She approached the rail, leaning on the palms of her hands as she stared in awe. Just below them, the moon Oculas shone a brilliant purple, the crown gem of the night. Its smaller twin, the viridian Rhetyna, sat beside it, white like the stars surrounding them. This sky was more beautiful than it ever has been¡­ or maybe the view from Onica simply wasn¡¯t as good as it was aboard an airship? It was hard to say¡­ but she wouldn¡¯t be going back to compare. This was her life now, her choice. Yulon was her oyster, and she would see every island that she had heard of in her youth. Mariga, the Island of Gold. Bulus, Island of beasts. Kena, Island of Plenty¡­ just to name a few. Maybe when her travels were done and over with she could retire in one of these places, forging a new kind of life. Miyu would hopefully be wealthy enough by then to live an easy life, at least, that was the plan. Without her family''s pressures, maybe she could even begin to wear dresses and grow her hair out. Other oni women had been allowed to do such¡­ but not Miyu. Unfortunately, she was special to her kind. A one in a million birth, to the High Chief¡¯s own family nonetheless, dresses had been the furthest thing from their minds. ¡®You are Short-Horned, the path of the warrior is yours¡¯ they would say¡­ curse her stunted knubs for subjecting her to a life she had no interest in. She was larger, stronger, and faster than her kindred, in exchange for underdeveloped horns that only grew to nubs once she had reached adulthood. Her father had been so proud to have fostered a Short-Horn, even if it was a daughter. He had raised Miyu like her brothers, teaching her the blade and other forms of combat, strictly ensuring that she became a great warrior. While he succeeded in this¡­ Miyu had felt dejected from being locked into that lifestyle. She wanted to wear dresses and have long hair, she wanted to bake bread and honey cakes like her mother did, but that was not ¡®her path¡¯. She was not resentful to her father for this, he was harsh but she knew he loved Miyu in his own way. Yet, she was a woman grown now, and one thing he had taught her was to stand up and take charge of her own life. So Miyu did, and she fled Onica when the opportunity presented itself. Now she was free to be as girly as she wanted! At least once she was done with her tenure as a pirate. Dresses unfortunately weren¡¯t built for battle, but growing her hair out was on the table at least. She smiled, maybe she could find a man that would actually look at her like she was a woman? Her smile faded¡­ fat chance of that happening. She¡¯d never met anyone in her life that was half as strong as she was, that coupled with her great height made finding a man that would want to settle down with her all but impossible. Oni men were out of the question for the same reasons¡­ no self-respecting oni man would want their woman to be more powerful than they were. Miyu doubted that men of the other races would be different in that aspect¡­ and honestly, did she want a man smaller than herself? She drummed her fingers on the railing as she thought about it. Miyu concluded that, while she would prefer a man taller than herself, that it simply wasn¡¯t in the cards. Damn her Short-Horn blood. Ah well, she¡¯d worry about the ¡®man¡¯ part of her journey after her time with Terg was concluded. However long that would be. Maybe when he became old and gray, then she¡¯d part ways with him. Had she been a normal oni she wouldn¡¯t have had time to waste, but due to her nature as a short-horn, she could afford to take her time with life. If she really wanted to, she could even go beyond the Fog-Gates, to the other Shards of Faenor¡­ but doing so would likely mean never seeing Yulon again, never seeing Onica again¡­ She wanted to say goodbye to her family at least first, but only after she was sure that she wouldn¡¯t be trapped on the island. After a few more minutes of pondering her future, Miyu stood, straight backed, popping her knuckles before turning around to see that she had been surrounded. They had been trying to sneak up on her, but they had the stealth of a hog with buckets for feet. Five crewmen wielding swords widened their eyes in shock, and Miyu frowned at them. ¡°You aren¡¯t as sneaky as you think you are.¡± Miyu told them, ¡°Leave me be if you want to live.¡± The men hesitated before the largest of them, a man head and shoulders shorter than herself, growled, ¡°You killed us coming aboard our ship, why didn¡¯t you tell Cap''n Terg about who you were?¡± She looked around to the other crewmen manning the deck, but they went out of their way to ignore what was happening, busying themselves with their toil. She understood, they didn¡¯t want to help them, but they wouldn''t try to stop them either, and Terg had retired for the night already, so she couldn¡¯t rely on him to stop them. She then sighed, shaking her head. ¡°He didn¡¯t ask.¡± Miyu replied with a shrug, ¡°Let¡¯s just cut to the chase. If you are going to try and kill me, then come on, let''s get this over with.¡± This book''s true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience. She then gripped the hilt of Zila, her greatsword, and that¡¯s when the first man, the big one, charged at her, aiming to swing his blade into her midsection. Miyu casually lashed out with her free hand, balling it into a fist just before it impacted with the man¡¯s skull. She felt the bone crunch beneath her fist like an eggshell, and he was sent flying backward, end over end before he rolled to a stop on the other side of the deck. Blood leaked from the body''s eyes and ears, fountaining down his nose in a torrent. The spot on his forehead her fist impacted was cratered inward, and the crewman did not rise again. She glared at the four remaining men, who¡¯s mouths had fallen agape as they looked from the body to her, ¡°So fragile.¡± She noted, ¡°So very soft you are.¡± She then began drawing her blade, but the men all dropped their blades, falling to their knees before they began pleading loudly for their lives. Miyu sneered in disgust at the pitiful display¡­ was this what her supposed comrades would be like once the battles began? She could not depend on these wretches to watch her back. Joining Terg¡¯s crew had clearly been a mistake¡­ she¡¯d be leaving sooner, rather than later. She was grateful at least for the chance to flee Onica, but after this next raid, she¡¯d be leaving. There was a small escape airship she could use, she¡¯d just steal half the larder after the raid was finished and set off by herself. There had to be more honorable company to keep than this. When she sheathed her blade, Terg emerged from his chambers beneath the helm, blinking the sleep from his eyes and clad in nothing but his undergarments. He rushed over, eyes wide when he spotted the dead man on his deck. ¡°Maly?¡± Terg asked the corpse, ¡°By The Overseer¡­ who did this!?¡± He screamed, head whipping this way and that. He saw Miyu and the groveling men, eyes narrowing before he approached them. Terg¡¯s eyes found Miyu¡¯s bloody fist, still dripping with crimson, ¡°Miyu¡­ explain yourself.¡± He demanded. ¡°I defended myself.¡± Miyu said, shaking the blood off her hand, ¡°The fools here were going to try and kill me.¡± ¡°That¡¯s not true cap¡¯n!¡± One of the men on his knees cried, scrambling up and away from her to hide behind Terg, ¡°We merely wanted to ask her about her homeland, and the blasted horn-head went mad and killed Maly!¡± Terg narrowed his eyes further, looking to the blades dropped onto the deck before sneering, ¡°You think me an idiot, boy?¡± He asked the crewman, turning to face him, ¡°Who asks questions like that at blade-point?¡± The man stuttered, ¡°I- No we ah, we drew the blades after she hit Maly, but then she threatened to cut us all down!¡± ¡°Then why are their five blades over there?¡± Terg asked, ¡°Or are you saying Maly drew his blade right before he got punched?¡± ¡°T-that¡¯s right!¡± He nodded emphatically, ¡°That is exactly what happened sir!¡± ¡°I can tell you¡¯re lying, you fool! Half rations for the lot of ye, you¡¯re lucky that I don¡¯t just kill you, now strip Maly of everything on his Overseer forsaken corpse, and toss ¡®im overboard!¡± Terg shouted, his words heated, ¡°Or I¡¯ll let Miyu here turn you into jelly for her bread!¡± The crewmen all yelped pathetically and scrambled off toward the body, leaving Miyu on her own. It seemed that Terg was a man of good sense at least, but she supposed that you would have to be in order to sail the Endless Sky. Terg marched over to her quickly, a sneer on his face. ¡°If this happens again, try not to kill them.¡± Terg hissed, ¡°I only have so many crewmen to go around, and I need every single one of them!¡± ¡°Then they better keep their distance!¡± Miyu yelled, not at Terg but so the crew present on the deck could hear her, ¡°Next time I won¡¯t be so merciful!¡± ¡°Remember what I told you.¡± Terg growled, ¡°No more killing me men, aye?¡± ¡°No promises.¡± Miyu said calmly, ¡°I can just say that I will try.¡± Terg stared at her a long while, grinding his teeth together before he grumbled something beneath his breath, moving over to his chambers before slamming the door shut behind him. Miyu sighed again, shaking her head before she turned back toward the endless starry sky. If she were to get involved with a man, she dearly hoped that he wouldn¡¯t ever grovel before her. Another hour passed before she decided to retire for the night, heading down below decks. She barred the door to her small chambers, as she did every night she¡¯d been on this ship. It was a cramped room, only large enough to accommodate a human-sized cot and a small chest. Maybe for a human it was decent ship space, but for her it was nightmarishly claustrophobic. Settling in to sleep took a long time, with her having to curl up beneath the cot with a bedroll for comfort, as she couldn¡¯t fit in it. She did manage to drift off to sleep regardless, and after a particularly nice dream involving her baking the perfect cake, she awoke, sitting up from her bedroll with a yawn. Was it morning or had that been a nap? Based on the cramp in her shoulder, she concluded that several hours had passed. It had to be morning now, but the lack of light down here made it hard to tell for sure. She¡¯d need to go above deck and- A loud rapping at her door cut off the thought, ¡°Miyu! Miyu get up above deck, we got pirates trying to board!¡± A voice shouted, ¡°Hurry!¡± ¡°I¡¯m up!¡± She shouted, standing quickly, ¡°I¡¯ll be right up!¡± She heard footsteps racing down the hall after she replied, and quickly she readied herself, donning her armor as quickly as possible before grabbing up Zila, not bothering to strap it across her shoulders as she unbarred her door and raced down the hallway, sprinting up the stairs with a dozen other crew members, drawing blades as they made it topside. As the man earlier had claimed, another, slightly smaller ship was approaching, with dozens of pirates gripping ropes on their deck, readying to rappel themselves down on their heads. This smaller airship had fantastic maneuverability, hovering just above this ship even as this one tried to fly away as fast as possible. The ropes came down, and then came the pirates, humans sliding down ropes and clad in breastplates. Crossbows were fired from the deck, Terg trying his best to get the ship out from under the one on top. A few bolts found purchase, knocking a few men off their ropes before they fell to the deck, screaming in agony before being finished off by her comrades. ¡°Kill ¡®em all!¡± Terg shouted, spittle flying from his mouth, ¡°Whoever kills the most gets first pickin¡¯s of their loot!¡± Miyu felt determination brew at those words, glancing at the ship above, wondering what would count as ¡®loot¡¯. She grinned as the first feet hit the deck, and she darted forward, drawing Zila and swinging it at the first pirate she came across. The long blade was as heavy as a man despite its relatively slender size, double-edged and coming to a sharp point. The blade bit into the man¡¯s midsection, bisecting him and sending the upper half of the body flying, gore spattering the deck before she moved on to the next one, raising Zila high above her head. The pirate gasped in terror, raising his own blade to block Zila. The effort was in vain, as Miyu¡¯s blade parted his with ease before the edge split the pirate¡¯s skull¡­ before cleaving the rest of the body completely through, splitting it evenly in half before Zila hit the deck, splintering the wood. Another man charged her from behind, holding a mace over his head. Miyu, like a horse, lashed out with a back-kick, her foot crumpling in his breastplate before he was sent flying through the railing of Terg¡¯s ship, not even managing to get out a scream as he disappeared into the endless sky below. Miyu roared as she cut down the rest of the pirates, painting Terg¡¯s deck with a fresh coat of red as she went. Time ceased to exist as she rent bodies, only stopping when she realized that only one invader remained alive¡­ the one who¡¯s throat was beneath her heel. She looked around, seeing that Terg¡¯s men had basically done nothing to help her with the fight, standing around the bloodbath with wide eyes and gaping jaws. She sneered at them again, ¡°You did nothing!¡± She screamed, ¡°Useless fools, the lot of you! I claim the ship above as my loot, I¡¯m leaving the crew!¡± ¡°No you don¡¯t!¡± Terg shouted, ¡°You owe me for coming aboard here without telling me who you were-¡± ¡°Try and stop me!¡± She shouted, ¡°I dare any of you weaklings to try!¡± As expected, no one stepped forward, she looked down to the man beneath her foot, who stared up at her, terrified, ¡°You can have this man as a replacement!¡± She shouted, removing her foot from his throat. The pirate coughed, gripping his throat and curling up into a ball. ¡°If any one of you takes a shot at me when I climb up there, I¡¯ll come right back down and kill the lot of you.¡± She threatened, ¡°Do not test me.¡± Terg¡¯s mouth clamped shut, and she could see him grinding his teeth together, clearly enraged by what she said. Miyu looked again at the ship above. It was a lot smaller than Terg¡¯s ship¡­ maybe it wouldn¡¯t be so hard to fly it by herself? It looked like it had been meant for just a raiding party, more than enough space for her. She acknowledged that she lacked experience in flying an airship¡­ but it would be better than spending another moment aboard this one. Just the thought of breathing the same air as these cowards sickened her. She grabbed onto one of the ropes that had been lowered to the deck, praying that it could hold her weight¡­ She then quickly ascended, moving as a blur up the rope, hand over hand before she finally reached the deck of her new airship, seeing a group of stunned men staring at her. They drew blades, backing away as she once more drew Zila. ¡°Get off my boat, all of you except the one manning the helm.¡± She ordered, raising her blade, ¡°Or you¡¯ll all end up like the fools you sent down to face me.¡± ¡°She¡¯s alone boys, just surround her and close in, she can¡¯t block everything!¡± A man yelled from the helm, hands steady on the wheel. ¡°Captain?¡± One asked, peering over the edge, ¡°Our boys are all dead!¡± ¡°What? That can¡¯t be!¡± He replied, ¡°Captain Kain is going to have my head if he finds out we ran off, kill the bitch and we¡¯ll drop anchor right on the deck of that ship!¡±