Chapter 13: The Long Road
Dark Tower: Throne Room
Taki silently watched Sophitia stagger to her feet, inwardly glad that she had been able to do something to set the bones in a more correct position before the arcanium enchantment had taken full effect. Still, her work wasn't quite perfect; Sophitia had a slightly more pronounced, permanent, arch to her back. It looked rather nice, she supposed. A little bit more elegant perhaps and, well, it made her chest a bit more pronounced. She wouldn't claim to know fully what men, and especially Erasmus, liked, but she felt that it was a rather good guess that The Overlord wouldn't feel all that different about the blonde. Behind her, the Portal pulsed and deposited Erasmus, along with a smell of fire and brimstone, in the chamber. Apart from the splashes of crimson blood covering his black armor he looked perfectly fine, although, did he seem a little more tense than usual?
Erasmus stabbed his blade into its sheath. "Well, sorry if I seem rather abrupt but I hope one of you is good at fine detail work with a knife." He revealed a weeping wound in his side. "I seem to be in need of surgical aid."
Sophitia's eyes went as wide as the saucer-like eyes of the minions, as did Ivy's, to a lesser degree. As for herself, yes she was alarmed but, like Ivy, she knew that it would take far more than that to kill Erasmus. Did it look painful, oh yes it did indeed. But secretly, she found herself cheering. Because out of the three women here she felt that she was the most skilled with a knife, after all, she was an assassin. Being good with a knife was sort of a job requirement. She knew how to cut out a man's heart with two quick movements; surely it was not much of a stretch to think she could perform surgery.
Erasmus's voice cut into her musing. "Taki? You seem uncharacteristically eager to try your hand, in a literal sense." She felt she was on the receiving end of a smirk. "Rather enthusiastic about cutting me open are we?"
She felt her face start to burn. "How exactly can you be so glib about being stabbed? I'd be screaming like a stuck pig if I had a sixteen-inch blade embedded in my side, not to mention that the wound keeps healing and cutting itself open again."
Ivy made a sound that was clearly an attempt to cover a laugh, poorly. "Please, you scream like a banshee with a blade half that size in you."
It took her a moment to figure out what Ivy was referring to. When she did, outrage warred with humiliation while Ivy just started to laugh and laugh…
Erasmus cleared his throat, loudly. "Isabella, much as I appreciate your vivid memory of our after-hours activities I think there is a better time and place for such comments. Ergo, not now." The last few words were delivered with quite a bit more force behind them than usual, and it sunk in with Ivy that Erasmus was in quite a bit of pain. He lifted his arm so she could get better access. "Do try to do your work quickly. I'll try to remain as still as possible."
She did as asked and bent over to bring her face closer to the wound, suddenly rather hesitant to drive one of her blades into his black flesh. But, the knowledge that it would help more than it would hurt led her to slowly slide the blade of one of her knives into the wound. Something must have ruptured, because a small jet of inky blood flew out and hit her in the eyes. Undaunted, pausing only to blink the fluid away, she worked the blade as gently as she could while at the same time overcoming the healing that the armor tried to perform around her hands. When she thought she had a large enough hole she stuck her entire left hand inside to find the broken blade. Erasmus himself remained eerily quiet, not even uttering so much as a grunt when she accidentally tweaked something. It struck her that The Overlord's tolerance for pain had to be downright inhuman, but considering that he'd probably fought more cumulative hours than she had been alive and suffered more wounds than she could count, that made quite a bit of sense. Something sharp pricked her finger, which promptly started to burn, and she recoiled slightly before reaching in again and grabbing the piece of metal.
She tried to make her voice sound soothing, and probably failed. "Ok I-"
Erasmus cut her off, "If you have the damnable thing just yank it out. I've been skewered by three unicorns at once, and had their horns break off in my chest. All three of which I had to dig out personally. This is a massage in comparison."
Leery of the comparison, but trusting Erasmus's judgment, she did as he asked and pulled the broken blade out with one sharp tug, sliding it free with the accompanying sound of meat being cleaved by the butcher and a fountain of black blood that hit her in the face, got in her eyes again. And some of it even went in her mouth and down her throat. Surprised by the blood spurt she dropped the broken blade to the floor, where it clattered to a standstill.
Immediately, the tension flowed out of Erasmus like a punctured vase, "Oooooh…" The Overlord rolled his shoulders, and twisted around left and right. "I really can't thank you enough for that. I've had broken pieces of things dug out of me with rusty knives before I acquired the Blues, and not much better afterwards." After a few more stretches Erasmus turned to her and helped her up off the floor. "You really did rather well considering this was your first attempt." There was a moment of hesitation, "It was your first attempt, yes?"
She nodded once, and then a thought occurred to her. 'How did the knife get there in the first place?'
Erasmus rolled his eyes and answered the question before she even spoke. "Of course, that question does beg to be asked, now doesn't it?" Erasmus took a moment to choose his words. "It was right after I slew this one swordsman, exceptionally competent man he was, that this blonde girl shows up behind me-"
Ivy broke in, "A girl did this to you?"
The Overlord shot a glance over his shoulder at Ivy, who was lounging on the steps by the throne. "Isabella, will you let me finish?" Seemingly satisfied with the minor rebuke he went on. "She is, for some reason, enraged by me killing the swordsman, who had no blood ties to her at all apparently. Needless to say she attacks me, and blinds me by sticking this hideous umbrella in my face. By some stroke of luck I swat her aside and she becomes even more enraged, for reasons I found rather humorous. Now she has nothing going for her but sheer berserk fury, and I toy with that for about two exchanges. I have her by the foot, trapped basically, when the earth begins belching fire all around us. I take that as my cue to leave and let go." Erasmus paused for a moment, "Anyone care to guess what happened next?"
She responded first; "The girl blindly attacked you again, with no sense of self-preservation."
Erasmus nodded to her, "Exactly." He continued, "If I may, you seem know this person, or at least of them. Am I wrong?"
She hesitated for only a moment. "Maybe, but first, this swordsman you killed just before she attacked you. Could you describe him for me?"
The Overlord related to her an abbreviated rundown of unique character traits, scars, hairstyle, attire, weapon choice… All in all there really wasn't much doubt in her mind that Erasmus had killed Mitsurugi. Made slightly more impressive by the fact that every time she had crossed blades with the ronin she had lost. And according to Erasmus he had been toying with the samurai, making her perception of The Overlord's skill skyrocket even further.
She started to open her mouth, to disclose the identity of the mystery woman when a loud thrumming from the Portal drew all of their attention. Slowly, the sound changed until a fountain of ash and smoke started gushing out of the water, along with the very person she had been about to discuss. For a long moment Setsuka simply lay there, coughing and hacking loud enough to draw a small audience of minions. Then the young woman glanced up long enough to realize that there were people looking at her, and the shock set in.
Erasmus commented belatedly; "Speak of the Devil." Then he snapped his fingers and the small audience of minions pounced on Setsuka faster than fly's stuck to honey. With no apparent instruction, the minions started to carry Setsuka off towards the Dungeon, both parties kicking and screaming the whole way.
Erasmus let out a sigh. "Well, I suppose that fills my schedule for the next several hours at least. First I have to forge Sophitia a new pair of weapons, and then I get to interrogate a madwoman." He turned his gaze upon the blonde and quickly added, "That does not mean I am irritated with you Dear, from what I hear there was not much you could do."
Sophitia nodded sadly, obviously disappointed with herself regardless of Erasmus's unwavering opinion, and turned towards the stairs. To her surprise, the Greek mounted the steps with a saucy flick of her hips, before casting a glance back towards The Overlord. It was somewhat amusing to note that there was the slightest tinge of red to Sophitia's face, and a devious smirk had slipped over Ivy's lips. It was impossible to miss, so, did that mean Ivy was putting Sophitia up to this? As some sort of challenge?
Erasmus obviously noticed, and his tone reflected that. "Well, in that case I most certainly am going to put a rush on that interrogation. A gentleman must never keep a lady waiting."
A tiny giggle slipped out between her lips, and she immediately clapped a hand over her own mouth, but the figurative damage was already done.
The Overlord turned to her, slowly, and stared at her for what seemed like an eternity, but was, in reality, probably closer to five seconds. "You know. I do think that is the first time I have ever heard you laugh." Erasmus half-turned towards the Forge. "It's a very pleasant sound, you should do it more often."
A few moments after The Overlord vanished down the stairs to the Forge a lance of pain shot through her head, forcing her to suppress a cry of agony. And as soon as it had come, the pain was gone, leaving her feeling a bit dazed. Suddenly, she really had no desire to do anything but try to get some sleep.
Dark Tower: Dungeon: Two Hours later
The Overlord took the steps down two at a time, holding to his resolution of putting a rush on the interrogation. Only the interrogation could be rushed because frankly, he wasn't the type to cut any corners with his metalwork, especially because Sophitia's life could very well hinge on the quality of his work. Sadly, he had not been able to work in his preferred metal. Arcanium was, regrettably, rather prohibitively heavy. Sophitia had tried to lift his blade once, and only got it about an inch or two off of the ground. Her wielding an arcanium weapon in both hands was not even worth considering. He had had, instead, a rather nice refresher with durium metal. It was both lighter and stronger than steel, and until he found something better it was the perfect material, for anyone except for him. It crossed his mind that his last thought made him sound like a monumental asshole. Far from it, he'd rather swaddle each of them in armor as effective as his own. However reality, not to mention each of their own personal preferences, would rather things be otherwise.
As he approached the section of the dungeon where he had ordered the girl taken he started to hear, rather abruptly, grunts of pain. This brought him a bit of pause, because he had never ordered for any torture to take place. Frankly, he had wanted at least a few civil words before he gave the okay for torture. If the minions had taken the initiative for once… Well suffice to say he would be extremely surprised, and then he would start followed the sounds to the Dungeon's sole occupant, and when he arrived he was greeted with the sight of the girl physically tearing her hands out of the wrist manacles.
He shook his head as he stood in the doorway. "You know, that really is another exercise in futility. Even with your hands free you can't leave, no amount of pulling is going to free your feet."
The girl's face jerked upwards to glare at him, tears of what he assumed was pain streaking down her cheeks. Adolescent agony laced her voice. "What do you want from me?"
He crouched down and grabbed the girl's arm just below the angry abrasion left by the bonds. "To start, you can stop mutilating yourself. I'm very particular about what goes on in my dungeon, most specifically who gets hurt or not. So why don't we just save you the trouble and…" He cracked the cuffs around the girl's feet. "… I'll just shut the door on my way out. Second, I'll settle for your name, as Taki never had the chance to mention it."
A look of confusion drifted across the girl's pain-ravaged face, "Wha, Why?"
He paused for a moment before answering. Something in her tone reminded him of someone he had crossed paths with a long time ago in the town of Spree, a little girl who, as brazen as you please, had walked right up to him and asked him "Why are you Evil?" There was something about the tone that implied absolute innocence, odd considering the circumstances under which they had crossed paths.
He stood back up, "I'll put it this way, memories are far more memorable when they are tied to something, and names are particularly effective. Also sights, smells, sounds, basically any sense you can think of ties into it. In addition, I'm simply curious who would be mad enough to attack someone blindly while the earth was erupting around them."
She muttered something he was obviously not intended to hear. "Someone with nothing left to lose."
He pretended that he had not heard. "I beg your pardon?"
The response was an incredibly juvenile, "Nothing" before she fell silent again. After a long moment she finally relented; "Setsuka."
He inclined his head once, showing his slight approval. "Well, Setsuka, in that case I have only one more question before I leave, and you can choose to answer me or not. Why did you wish that man dead, so much so that anyone else killing him is an unforgivable offence?" After a moment he added; "If I recall correctly it was something along the lines of avenging your master."
The silence stretched on indefinitely, with Setsuka seemingly unable to tear her eyes away from a spot on the floor inches in front of her own two feet. After about a minute had passed it was clear to him that Setsuka either would not, or could not, answer him. Was he angry, no, after all it was only his curiosity on the line. Still, the denial only made him want to know regardless, but he wasn't going to push.
He turned towards the stairs, taking hold of the cell door with his left hand on the way. "Suit yourself, best try and get some sleep then, you'll be leaving in the morning."
Setsuka finally looked up, shock written in every muscle of her face. "You mean you're actually going to let me go? But…" She hesitated, clearly thinking that finishing the thought would be akin to digging her own grave. "…I stabbed you."
He snapped a crick out of his neck before explaining. "And the reason for that is slightly obvious, even if you refuse to discuss it. I have enough presence of mind to realize that whoever that man was, he wronged you in some way that scarred you for life. Therefore you were seeking him out for revenge, a cause I can fully empathize with. I have done so on multiple occasions. I am not sorry for having fought him, as he was the best warrior I have encountered so far, but I am sorry for depriving you of whatever vengeance you could have exacted from him." He started to close the door, and added, as an afterthought; "Oh yes, and don't panic when the Tower starts to quake. The structure is not about to collapse on top of your head."
Setsuka shouted after him, "Wait. WHAT?" But he had already closed the door and was already gone.
Wolfkrone Keep: Morning
Taki watched Erasmus lightly shove Setsuka out the castle gates, at the same time fighting a war within the confines of her own head against an ache that threatened to make her scream in agony. She wasn't exactly sure how good of a job she was doing at, but Erasmus hadn't mentioned anything yet, and he was certainly observant enough to catch a sign of pain.
The Overlord spoke to her as he walked back from the doors. "An intriguing case to be sure, not enough so to lose sleep over though."
She voiced an observation, "She's not done with you, you know, for good or ill."
Erasmus chuckled lightly, "And isn't that an ironic statement coming from a woman that tried to kill me as well." He went on, "I am well aware that the odds are heavily stacked in favor of running into Setsuka again, especially due to the fact that we're probably bound for the same destination."
Her head started the throb, but she continued to ignore it. "You really think she'll still go to Ostrhinesburg?"
The Overlord nodded once. "No doubt in my mind, even though her reason for chasing the conflict is gone." He shot a glance over his shoulder as the gates fully closed. "Call me crazy, but I got the impression off of her of a little girl that was forced to grow up far too quickly. Whatever happened… Well, never mind that. I'll either learn or I won't, no point in speculating." His gaze fell back to her, and she suddenly felt herself under intense scrutiny. "Taki, are you feeling alright? You seem a bit strung out."
She denied it, even though her head was splitting open like a wooden log in a fire. "I'm fine, really I am." Then the pain inside her head exploded to unfathomable levels and she fell to her knees. "Ok, maybe I'm not.
Her world went black.
Dark Tower: Private Quarters: 3 hours later
Taki felt her eyes snap open, momentary panic setting for a few seconds until she realized that she was lying in her own bed. How did she know? The overall feel of the mattress, coupled with the dominating presence she felt close at hand. Erasmus had a very distinctive aura.
The Overlord spoke, an amused lilt to his voice. "Well, you don't expect to see that happen every day. A lover to fall unconscious and black vapor start pouring from every orifice, and I mean every orifice."
She slowly sat up, noting quickly enough that she was naked save the sheet. "Please tell me you aren't saying what I think you're saying."
Erasmus's eyes pinched together slightly at the corners, a sign that he was smiling. "That would depend on what you think I'm saying. But yes, although it has stopped by now."
She put a hand to her forehead, though the ache was gone to her significant relief. "Anything else I should be made aware of?"
Erasmus's smile vanished, "Your eyes have changed to resemble Sophitia's, with the notable monochrome hue. Ergo, all black." He held up a hand just before she was about to screech an objection. "Before you panic, I have a bit of a theory as to the how, if you want to hear it."
Feeling utterly flabbergasted, she could only give her approval with a nod of her head.
Erasmus lowered his hand, and the tone of his voice. An obvious, if extremely welcome, attempt to calm her down. "My thoughts stem from that bit of surgery you performed yesterday, and how you got a face full of my blood." He paused for a brief moment. "Now try not to take this as arrogance, but I am essentially the avatar of Evil. As such, raw Evil energy flows through my body as much as, if not more so, than my blood."
She shook her head, "I could understand the eyes with that, but the vapor?"
He nodded, "To understand that you would need to have seen raw Evil leave a corpse. I've seen that happen many, many times. Evil is, and I hate describing it as such, like an infection, a virus. It grows, multiplies over time, and occasionally drives its host completely mad. You should know this, you beheaded someone that Evil affected thusly, Kahn."
It was a lot to take in, but she was giving it a valiant effort. "Then, why exactly didn't I see anything then?"
The Overlord shrugged. "I couldn't say for sure, but I would guess that it is due to the fact that magic is not a central part of what you are." Erasmus stood, starting to head for the door. "Oh yes, one last thing. Apparently, the raw Evil leaking out of you didn't like whatever enchantments you had woven into your…" Eventually he picked out a word. "… outfit, and dissolved the thing out of hand. So I'd find something else you like to wear, quickly." His eyes pinched together again, and he was clearly being optimistic. "If you can't think of anything, I'm sure the servant girls would love to take you on a shopping trip."
Erasmus left, shutting the door behind him. She was left alone in her room, inexplicably horrified by the simple prospect of going shopping with a gaggle of giggling young women.
Wolfkrone Wilderness:
The Overlord paused to take a long look at the Wolfkrone keep off in the distance, admiring the way the light of the setting sun seemed to set the blanched walls ablaze. He then smirked as he fantasized what the city would look like if it actually was burning, his imagination going so far as to call up the smell of burning wood to aid the fantasy. Then he turned his back on the crown jewel of his Empire-Away-From-Home before striding off down the highway to Ostrhinesburg. Of course, he chuckled to himself, Wolfkrone was the only country on this side of the void under his dominion, so it was, by default, the crown jewel. But that would change, oh yes that would change… He shook himself from his reverie and focused on the task at hand.
With the benefit of hindsight, he now knew that on his previous excursion he had taken a wrong turn after having his escort demolished by Rock Adams. He had gone South at the next fork instead of North, and that had been his only error. From there on the road had been as straight as an arrow until he had dashed off to the grand melee, and by then he could see the supposed "Cursed City" on the horizon. If he could navigate his way back to that volcanic morass, and he knew he could, he could follow his eyes to his destination. That was of course barring any freak accidents of nature, like an earthquake. Barriers of the human variety were easily dealt with, one of two ways, either circumvention or straight up elimination. He wasn't too concerned with running into any serious opposition by this point. Anyone in this part of the world was somehow going to be involved in the rush for Soul Edge, which meant that most people would be by themselves. There may be that odd pair traveling together, but there wasn't going to be a real army facing him.
While he was on the topic, he found himself hoping that his battalion of soldiers had survived that eruption. Hildegard or no, those men would be quite useful inside the city, not for frontline combat of course, but to deny access to specific areas of the city. After all, it wouldn't do him much good to go through all of this trouble to acquire Soul Edge only to have someone beat him to it and flee. If they were all dead, well, he supposed he would have to settle for his mindless Wraiths.
Something up ahead, in the middle of the road, caught his attention. There was a circle of raggedly-dressed men standing around something or, so he could reasonably assume, someone. The hands of these men were filled with a small assortment of small blades, the kind ideal for highwaymen and footpads. What they were alone was enough for him to be disgusted, but when he heard a slap and a woman's cry of pain, that crossed a line, and royally pissed him off.
He muttered to himself; "Nobody gets away with smacking around an unarmed woman in plain sight, or so help me…" He stalked right up to sword range of the group and filled his voice with mock politeness. "Gentlemen, whatever might you be doing on this fine day?"
About half the group whirled about to face him, the rest looked up with a startled gasp. Now that he was closer he could see their victim, a young woman pinned to the ground with a boot wedged between her breasts and a grubby sword blade at her throat. He still couldn't see her face, but by this point it was irrelevant, he was committed.
The man he could assume was the leader, judging from the fact that he were the only one with a sword, immediately barked an order. "Kill em lads! This one looks like he might have some coin on him!"
At their leader's behest the half of the band that had already been facing him advanced, keeping his view of the girl mostly obscured. Their short knives glittered in the evening light like the blades the Greens used, but with nowhere the same wickedness. These were simply wretched men that couldn't be bothered with earning an honest living, so they gathered in packs and preyed upon those they could intimidate or overwhelm.
He sized up the five men advancing towards him and got a reasonable read on what they were going to attempt, and then he sheathed his sword. "Alright, let the party begin. I think I'm due for another batch of slaughter anyway."
His words caused the five men to pause, then the center one sneered at him. "You talk big. We'll see if you still feel that way when you got a knife stuck in your belly."
True to his prediction the two men flanking the center one struck first, both lunging for his middle at the same time. It was then a simple matter to loop both of his arms and sharply bring his fists up, snapping both men's weapon arms like twigs. When the center man lunged in heartbeats later, he received a boot to the face, snapping his neck back with stomach-churning force.
He chuckled as the broken man crumpled to the ground, blood pouring out of his burst eye sockets. "The foot is mightier."
A few twists was all it took to use the two men in his iron grasp as bludgeons to beat the other two advancing men into bloody chunks. He dropped the corpses, standing as he had moments before only with five fewer men standing in his way. Just to add that extra bit of awe and fear in, he started to laugh, a spot on impression of the laugh that had terrified Hildegard's army upon their first meeting.
The leader certainly looked terrified. "What the hell are you? Some kind of knight?"
The question actually brought him a bit of pause. True, he didn't have the formal title of "Sir Erasmus Kilgore," although it certainly had a nice ring to it, but in private Sophitia often called him her knight in shining armor, among other things. "You could say that."
To his surprise the leader nodded with approval, before snatching the girl up off of the ground and pressing the blade to her throat. "Good, cause if you are a knight, then you are obligated to surrender. Or this pretty lady-"
When the bandit leader hauled the woman up, he simply could not contain his amusement. The woman, or girl, was Setsuka. Right now he had to be the absolute symbol of magnanimity. He was rescuing a young woman that had stabbed him in the side, leaving a weeping wound that had ached for hours, from a fate of gang rape and violent death. Just how, by the fates, did he manage to dig himself into these kinds of situations?
He calmed himself, wiped a tear born of laughter out of his left eye, and filled his voice with as much menace as possible. "Are you sure that's wise, giving orders to me? You filth."
The utter contempt gave him the window he needed, drawing the leader's blade about a foot away from Setsuka's neck and giving him the opportunity to cast Slow upon the whole group. He took two steps forward and threw two slashes, severing four heads. Gore spewed from the severed carotid arteries of each victim. Drops of it spattered on his armor as he gingerly reached in and removed the offending blade from the ownership of the bandit leader, along with the hand that had been holding it. As Slow wore off, Setsuka almost literally jumped at her opportunity, twisting out and away from the grip of the bandit that still didn't seem to realize that he was missing one of his hands. Shock, and the horrid sight of a stump where his hand should be, eventually sent the bandit leader tumbling back onto the ground, screaming obscenities and empty threats at the top of his lungs.
He knelt down, placing his right knee upon the bandit's chest and seizing the man's face with the same hand. "You know, you really should learn to watch your language around a young lady. In fact, I think you've already crossed the line." He stuck two fingers from his left hand inside the bandit's mouth. "I think it fair that you never speak again."
With a slight twitch of his wrist he tore the bandit's tongue out of their mouth and, as it was the first time he could remember doing this, he was slightly disappointed by the amount of blood. The red simply dribbled out of the man's mouth like a mountain stream, but it effectively made the bandit quite mute, which was a blessing in and of itself.
He stood, allowing the bandit to scrabble a short distance away. "I've already soiled my sword with the blood of your compatriots. So get running, or I'll make you even less of a man than you already are."
The subtle threat was not lost on the lone bandit, and he did start to run, leaving an inch-wide trail of crimson blood in their wake. He nodded with satisfaction, then, hearing an energetic scuff on the ground behind him, rolled his eyes before one of the crude knives jammed into his side, right where she had stabbed him last time.
An exasperated sigh escaped him, and he completely ignored the wound. "I save you, unwittingly though I might have done so, from a fate of brutal rape and death and this is how I am treated? Serves me right for abiding by my 'heroic' notions."
With an air of indifference he reached down and grabbed the handle of the small knife, taking care not to twist or bend it this time, and slowly removed the blade. Then, he started to lift the weapon, and Setsuka, into the air high enough that the young woman was no longer touching the ground. An unintended consequence of this action was that he found himself having an eye-level view of her cleavage, which was quite substantial. Add to that the fact that the strips of fabric covering it had been mostly shredded by the bandits…
He moved his gaze up without real difficulty, to lock eyes with the young woman. "Alright, enough. Out with it, what did Heishiro Mitsurugi do to your master that warrants this near-blind rage?" After a moment he held up his free hand, summoning a few dregs of power to charge Evil Presence. "I can force you to talk, but I would rather not do that."
Setsuka's face paled, "He, he defeated my master, maimed him, shamed him. He died old, infirm, and…" A sob choked its way out of her mouth and her eyes looked distant. "…well before he should have."
He nodded once and started to lower Setsuka back to the ground, keeping his eyes fixed on her face. When he set her down he did not let go immediately, but instead used his free hand to take the knife from Setsuka as a parent might take a toy from a child. He then threw the small blade off to the side of the road, where it struck a tree with a mighty, hollow sounding thud. At that point he released his grip, but did not allow his vision to stray, just in case she had any other foolish ideas. Overall, he was surprised by how accurate his first impression had been. Whoever this master had been they had obviously died at a very bad time, probably barely before Setsuka reached her twentieth year of age. There was no mention of her parents, so did that imply that she never knew them? Possibly, and it would explain why the death of her master had affected her so strongly. Waves of grief were practically palatable as they radiated off of her, stronger even than the grief Sophitia had felt for her lost children, and that was nothing to sneeze at.
As for Setsuka herself, she was just standing in front of him, worse for wear simply from being forced to relive the memory. She looked willing and ready to simultaneously rip his head from his shoulders and curl into a ball to cry. That cemented it in his head that her master was the only family that she had ever known. His heart went out to her, but at the same time he morosely remembered the twin stab wounds that she had given him. In the light of the setting sun she shivered, and he noticed that it actually was getting rather brisk. Funny how he never really seemed to notice temperature anymore unless someone around him did or said something. With a sigh he started to reach his right hand across his chest towards the clasp for his mantle.
Setsuka seemed to take the gesture in some other way. "What, what are you doing?"
He ignored the girl and twisted the clasp, letting his mantle unfurl in the breeze with a light click, before offering the black cloth to Setsuka. "You'll catch a chill." After a few moments he turned his words into a light order. "Take it before you freeze. I saved your life, I feel responsible for now at least."
After a brief hesitation Setsuka did as he asked, took the mantle, and wrapped it around her shoulders like a shawl. Though her face didn't show it, there was a glitter of gratitude in her eyes, an innocent light that reached into him and plucked at his heartstrings. This was of course tempered by the constant threat of violence, but nonetheless there was a seed of pity in his head that was staring to sprout.
He gestured towards the road, "Shall we? Night is almost upon us and I don't see a good campsite anywhere nearby." He paused as she looked at him, baffled, before continuing; "And I'll need that mantle back eventually, so you're not leaving my sight until then." Unbidden, a smirk crossed his hidden face. "I don't see how that should be a problem. After all, we are both headed to Ostrhinesburg, and you are still unarmed." He didn't wait for an objection, just started walking with the expectation of her following. And it worked.
Road to Ostrhinesburg:
Setsuka numbly followed the man that had, moments ago, saved her life, and hugged the black cloth he had given her tighter around herself. The 'mantle' as he had called it, warmed her straight down to her soul, even the parts of her that it didn't touch or cover. It was pure bliss. But at the same time, thinking about what she was doing chilled her to the bone. The Overlord, as she had heard him called, was eerily persuasive. Otherwise he could simply be commanding her with magic and she simply didn't know it. Then there was the brutality with which he had dealt with the bandits that ambushed her, though she was hard-pressed to feel any bit of sympathy for them. But then he followed it up with the magnanimous gesture of offering his own mantle because he had seen she was cold. The duality of all these things was confusing her utterly.
Furthermore, she was completely helpless. She was unarmed, and even if she hadn't been there was ample evidence staring her in the face that it was completely impossible for her to kill The Overlord. He had been stabbed at least twice to her knowledge, probably many more than that. Furthermore there was the matter of now owing him her life. Could she kill him in good conscience, even if there was a way? He'd never directly done her wrong. Really, he had been far more tolerant of her than she had any right to expect. But…
The Overlord's booming voice broke in on her thoughts. "This spot will do. Take a seat wherever you like."
Without really thinking about it she again did as she was told, taking a seat on a conveniently shaped rock and drawing her knees up to her chest and under the cover of the borrowed mantle. For a long while after that she barely moved at all, only using her eyes and neck to follow the movement of The Overlord as he built a fire using chucks of trees that he had broken apart with his bare hands, and lit it with a snap of his fingers.
The Overlord didn't look up from tending the fire, but she knew he was speaking to her. "You're being rather quiet. Got something on your mind?"
Her question came out as little more than a breath. "Why did you help me?"
The Overlord laughed and shook his head, still not looking at her. "That question again. How many times will I have to answer that from here on out?" He looked up and speared her with his gaze. "I happen to have this thing called a moral compass, perhaps you've heard of it. It frequently interjects on what the right course of action is when I find myself confronted with the event of women in some sort of bind. And by 'women' I include females of humanoid construction." A wry chuckle escaped the man."Would I still have intervened had I known you were the victim, yes I probably still would have."
She shivered in spite of the fire and the mantle. "Then, I guess I have to ask why again."
The Overlord prodded the fire with a sapling, and then slowly lowered himself into a seated position. "I'm going to assume that you are asking about yourself given our, colored, history. To that all I can say is that I feel a bit of pity for you, for the way you have been forced to live your life. For what you have been forced to endure." There was a pause which was filled with the merry crackling of the fire. "I don't remember it clearly, but I at least remember being raised by parents that actually cared." The next silence stretched on for a lot longer, until her chaperone broke it again. "Well, I suppose you should get some sleep. We've got a long way to go until we reach Ostrhinesburg, a week at most."
Her eyes followed The Overlord's form as he repositioned himself, his eyes comfortably facing the road. "But, won't you need to sleep yourself? I mean, you can't stay up all night, can you?"
The Overlord just stared at her for a long time, until she wondered if there had been something wistful in her voice, some kind of subtle hint that maybe she was planning on trying to kill him again in his sleep. If that was the case, then he was probably weighing the option of just killing her off and voiding the risk. Building upon that, she found herself fervently wishing that she hadn't implied that harm was still headed his way.
The Overlord finally spoke. "Your concern is ah, touching, but unnecessary. I require far less rest than ordinary people, and I had a very refreshing night just yesterday. I'll probably keep going for at least a week until I need rest again." After a moment he added; "And relax, I'm not going to do anything to you while you're sleeping. I don't do that, unless I'm invited to."
The Overlord's eyes moved away from her and she relaxed, before she remembered what she had been thinking about only moments before her chaperon had responded to her questions. Further, she realized that she had been completely sincere.
As she lay down on the ground, seeking a soft spot to put her head, she muttered to herself. "I guess, that I've decided I can live with him not being dead."
Then she closed her eyes, and drifted off into troubled dreams.