I'm not English, if there are any mistakes, please tell me, I'll be glad to correct them.
The first conversations between Adrian and the natives of Terra will take place about halfway through the chapter, the first part is the end of his iniatic journey, if you don't want to read it you are warned.
This chapter took a while to come out for the same reasons I warned in The Hunt Beyond The Dream, I'm still injured by hand, I had to make a choice between the two translations and I prioritized the first one to this story.
Everything should be back to normal next month, but I can't guarantee it.
I hope you enjoy the chapter.
Chapter 2 : Travel Throught Blood.
Adrian walked through the forest in a random direction. He had given up the idea of always going north and was branching off to follow the rivers and streams. If there was a living population, it would settle along a waterway.
Like every day since the beginning of his wandering, he had stopped along an ebb of the river he was following. Far from the bank, sheltered between the trees, the small makeshift fire and its owner were calmly waiting for the meat to cook.
The meat resources had been exhausted and the hunt had been more than necessary to survive.
"A month and a half..." he mumbled quietly as he watched the flames dance around his meat.
A month since he had left the ruined city and two more weeks before the discovery, a month and a half since he had arrived in this body and this world. Slowly, he turned his spit, checking the cooking. What he had certainly learned from this wilderness trip was that well-cooked meat was the absolute BASIC of survival.
Three days of vomiting had left enough of a mark on his buttocks and by extension the bushes where he had been. At least he had left some fertilizer for the forest and had done his ecological duty.
Clean and effective scatological humour! Worthy of him.
He had an amused smile as he drifted towards his food that he removed from the fire. Rabbit meat would be better with salt... Pepper... Or simply with just about anything to season it.
He missed the taste of industrial products... He had already finished his supply from the distributor and was praying to find another town.
God... When you lose your comfort zone, you realize how necessary it is and how good the little things are.
To that, his body was growing, he had around fifteen, a year or two to take or lose for all he knew. Still was, that although in better shape than his former - which was not very complicated in view of his lifestyle - he knew that continuing more than a few months to follow the diet of the woods, he would find himself with serious shortcomings.
"Let's go," he breathed to push himself to get back on the road.
Forcing himself to talk to himself so as not to sink, monologuing when no one could hear him, a way like any other not to sink into all the madness of this damn world.
The awakening was difficult. Like every day since he had arrived in this world. The cold of the morning slipped into the air followed by the rancid smell of the tunnel in which he had taken shelter.
Honestly, he had gotten used to it since he started wandering. He got up from the makeshift straw mattress that served as his bed, taking care to fold it up.
"He grunted as he took out a piece of meat from his bag and began to chew it.
It was softened, like a piece of leather soaked in water and barely edible, but it would be his best meal of the day. If he chewed it for ten minutes or so, he would eventually give in.
From the top of the hill, Adrian huffed as he rubbed his hands together. The cold wasn't as biting as it used to be, but it was still annoying, especially his lack of means to fully protect himself from it. His clothes were sufficient in the forest, but not nearly enough in the open areas, where the blasts of air had nothing to stop them.
The endless blue sky reinforced this impression of abandonment and desolation. The white clouds leaving in the distance let the sun cover the still wet grass with its fine rays.
"Let's go for another day of lonely travel" he laughed.
His tired and broken face was covered with a smile as he picked up his bag.
"Rocky Road to Dublin, One, Two, Three." The traveller whistled calmly as he moved between the trees.
A growl in the bushes made him stop.
"Shit." he thought in a half second before running backwards.
Since arriving in this world, one thing Adrian had learned, in addition to useful plants for digestive concerns, was the creatures that populate the forests. If there was one thing he could learn from his trip, it was that mosquitoes were the most detestable creatures in the world. How could they survive in such crappy temperatures? Was it another species?
Still, in addition to his hatred of insects, came a recognition of predators.
His body had acted faster than his own thoughts and he had done well. Several close encounters had taught him the cunning of the beasts. Infernal yelps echoed in his back a moment after he started running.
They had spotted him and were chasing him. Now the Vulpo had no chance to escape without a fight.
The grunts surrounded his position. Adrian tightened his grip on his gun.
"What a shitty idea," he thought as he came to a sudden stop in a terrain that was more advantageous to him.
A slope, slightly in relief with some rocky escarpments to prevent a surprise attack by the sides.
He could hear footsteps against the ground all around him. The wolves were gradually beginning to surround him. Both his hands held the butt of the gun firmly in front of him, ready to fire as soon as one of the canines had the bright idea to take a step forward.
"Come on," he said. "Come on."
One of the beasts emerged from the thicket. It was a wolf, but not the kind commonly encountered, this one had black, slightly translucent crystals growing out of its skin. From what he knew, it was a rather serious form of animal Oripathy, making these infected much more aggressive.
"Blam!"
The shot left the Vulpo's weapon. A yelp escaped from the canine's throat as he struggled, the bullet having passed through his throat. Still, their weak points were identical.
"He laughed falsely, regaining his confidence.
The nearest wolf ran forward and before the boy had a chance to shoot, sank its fangs into his arm. Adrian fell to the ground as the creature loosened its grip to aim for his throat. He barely had time to react and put his weapon against the creature's belly, firing its last three bullets in a flash of light.
He shook off the corpse of his victim and noticed that the other wolves had begun to move cautiously forward. Taking advantage of the respite, he hurriedly grabbed his rifle from his feet and took aim.
"Blam!"
The shot hit the right wolf in the head. The rest of the group of canines went on the attack.
At close range, his rifle would do no good. Trembling with pain, his muscles aflame from the effort, he managed to slide the bolt back, cocking his pistol with a new clip.
The wolves used a cunning and effective method, two or three attacked from the front forcing him to focus on them while the others went behind his back to take him by surprise.
One wave was easily stopped, a second was difficult to predict, but the third ?
For all that he had been, and despite several weeks of living in the wild, the Vulpo's reflexes, while better, were far from those expected of a true fighter.
Adrian was not quick enough to turn and aim at the last wolf. His side was in a steel shot followed by a crunch of flesh.
His vision fell to the side, and he had just enough time to slam the butt of his rifle into the wolf's snout, forcing it back.
An unspeakable heat slid against his wound, letting the blood run against the ground. It wasn't deep enough to reach a vital area, but enough to make him hurt like a dog, or a fox depending on how you look at it.
The hellish throbbing throughout his body put him on the edge of consciousness. If he gave up here, if he let himself be sucked into the dark, he knew he wouldn't come back. If not the wolves, then the cold. He pressed his hands to the open wound in his stomach, trying to hold back the unstoppable flow of his own blood.
Everything was becoming a blur, the wolves closing in on him growled with what he could interpret as amusement.
While the biggest one brought its jaw closer and closer to Adrian. In a last effort, drawing on his reserves he managed to grab his gun and raise it to the canine's head.
"Go to hell," he breathed, pressing down.
The beast didn't have time to scream before the bullet went through its eye and into its brain. The young Vulpo pulled himself back quickly, grabbing his rifle and pointing it at the wolves. Adrian smiled wider, forcing himself to think of nothing but the moment. His mask was on his face and growling with more fury than ever, he signalled the start of the second round.
"Come on hairballs! I'll welcome you the German way!"
Despite his bravado for comfort, the Vulpo's mind was exhausted.
"It looks like this is the end of me... A month and a half in this world already seem pretty good for someone with such limited outdoor survival experience."
Adrian shoved a magazine into his rifle.
"The last bullet will be for me," he thought.
"NO!" he growled with fury, understanding what he had just said to himself.
The habit of talking to himself not to sink and keep in touch with reality had become a habit.
"I didn't survive to give up like that."
He gritted his teeth and pulled, drawing on his Art reverses, he pushed the air around him to form a barrier. A basic and very useful use of his Arts, which he had refined mainly to protect himself from the cold of storms.
One of the wolves darted forward.
"Come here doggie!"
"BLAM!"
One more! A second one tried to go around him but was surprised by the wind barrier that warned its owner of the danger.
And of three!
"Mankind is here, you beast! Soon you will be an endangered species again! When I get back to civilization, I'll make slippers out of your skin!"
Only four left.
The halved pack made them consider their chances of victory and the risk and reward.
"Ho you're not going to run!" sneered the Vulpo as he rose from the snow, leaving a red trail behind him, "You'll be joining your cousins soon."
Raising his rifle, he put his scope in front of his eye, aiming at the motionless masses. Were they too shocked? Too stupid?
The panicked fear in his mind masked by the smiles told him to investigate it later.
"BLAM!"
"And hop! An easy jab to wolf heaven!" he roared.
The panicked howls of the last three were enough to make them retreat. After a few minutes of making sure they were all gone, Adrian collapsed to the ground. His clothes were soaked with blood from his open wound and the missing piece of fabric from his jacket showed the hard fight that had just taken place.
The Vulpo gritted his teeth and reached for his bag.
He removed his jacket, shirt and coat revealing his bare skin. The wound was ugly, a mixture of wolf slime, bits of cloth and flesh. Step by step, it was his first time to resort to such a manoeuvre, it had to be impeccable. First, remove the foreign bodies...
"He roared when the metal pliers reached the first end.
It was going to be hard; the biggest risk was to bite his tongue and create two problems in one. Despite his limited medical knowledge, Adrian was proud to be able to claim to have taken first aid courses. He pulled a spare piece of cloth from his bag and put it between his teeth to muffle his cries.
Adrian removed the gag from his mouth. A properly placed and tight bandage should be enough for the next few hours. He looked up at the sky and sighed painfully, forcing himself to think positively about his situation. At least it wasn't bad enough to need stitches so he wouldn't have to learn by doing something he certainly shouldn't.
He tried to get up but felt weak. Was it the blood loss? Or maybe the fatigue mixed with the pain?
"Come on." he lectured himself as he struggled to get back on the path.
Adrian was waiting in a barn. His rifle lay on the ground nearby, just close enough for him to grab it and fire a round if anyone came in. A lamp glowed, letting a gentle warmth wash over the cloth he wore.
His dirty blond hair showed his ears lowered to protect himself from the cold, while his bright blue eyes gleamed slightly behind the protective goggles placed on his face.
A barn isolated in the countryside and obviously abandoned, just like the village around. The Vulpo released his jacket, patting the bandages he had just applied. He had been lucky to discover it and to land there for the night. But this raised two important questions, what had happened and why?
His little visit to the main building had given him the answer, and it wasn't pretty. Memories now haunted his mind as he looked down at the floor.
No sooner had he walked through the door of what appeared to be a town hall, than he was greeted by a most macabre sight. Lying on the ground, facing the wall, side by side, twenty people were dead.
Their bodies had been abandoned in an unearthly position. The hand-holding limbs of a woman holding her child showed that their deaths had not been in a more peaceful state.
Especially since the carnage seemed recent, four days at most, the cold having preserved all the bodies quite well.
Staring at a boy barely nine years old, Adrian held back his vomit and ran outside to empty his stomach. His boyish face was frozen forever in a tormented sleep. His corpse-like form was no worse than the others gathered in the room. A place of summary and violent execution of the civilian population. All women, children, old men and young men, no weapons and strikes to the back of the skull or the neck, indicating premeditated murder.
Blood, bits of flesh scattered in a grotesque Picasso-like mural.
Adrian had held his breath before throwing himself out. With his hand resting against the stone wall, he could feel the fetid stench releasing onto the floor.
"Glurck... Glurck... Brurrrrghhh..."
Adrian had returned to the cold streets of the village and had begun to walk through the streets. It was quiet, too quiet to be relaxing. Only the sound of footsteps against the frozen earth broke the cold monotony of the exploration. Finally, the young man looked at one of the houses.
It didn't look very recent and had the characteristics of a manufacturing place, two large chimneys, one of which was at the back, typical of a kind of forge, and an open front yard.
"Probably an old workshop," muttered the traveller.
He pushed the door causing the creaking of the frozen hinges and felt a blockage.
"Too old." he grunted as he noticed the right side of the heavy door held up by a piece of ice.
He stepped back and took a long breath. He placed the barrel of his rifle over the opening and pressed.
"BANG!"
The stinging sound of the bullet leaving the gun echoed off the walls of the city. The seals had slammed shut, freeing the entrance.
Adrian pushed the door open with the tip of his foot, keeping his gun in front of him. You never knew what shit might be lurking in the dark corners of an abandoned house.
Maybe a wolf had taken up residence or even a bear. The Vulpo ran his hand over his soiled bandages, a single encounter with the canines had been enough for him for the next few months, years even, if that was possible.
He walked cautiously on the frozen floor of the house, passing through an old, abandoned living room.
The remains of a half-eaten meal were still on the table while the rest of the house had been rushed out leaving most of the possessions of its former inhabitants. They must have gone to the centre of the city.
He took a few steps into the main room where he had arrived and froze as he spotted a group of human forms sitting on the sofa.
"Who are you?!" roared Adrian.
The Vulpo took a slight distance immediately and drew his rifle for safety before walking around the side to get a better look at them. He wasn't moving, probably dead. One never knew if they were really gone, and paranoia was better than being killed painfully and horribly in a crude trap. Especially after the town hall show.
But... As expected, all four people were dead.
Fear, despair, sadness, and acceptance painted themselves successively on each of the inhabitants of the farm. A couple and their two children, lost in their farm.
The reasons for their deaths were easy to identify by the clean marks on their throats. None of them had tried to defend themselves and had accepted their fate.
The dozens of footprints behind the sofa and the overturned furniture indicated that the killers had left in a hurry.
This explained the multiple marks on the pavement outside and several burns on some of the houses.
What had happened in this city?
An unanswered question that had pushed Adrian to settle outside the city, in this barn, well away from the town and completely closed to hide the light of his fire and not be spotted.
The shifting shadows caused by the flames of his heat lamp stressed him. Adrian was not particularly brave, but the knowledge of a meadow in the vicinity indicated the precarious situation in which he found himself.
More than to hope not to cross the killers and to remain alive a little longer. His mind was tormenting him more than ever, his arrogant smile had taken over his face, but looking into his eyes, one could see the fear, distress and 'constant questioning.
His hands were unceasingly busy disassembling and reassembling his gun, repeating the same gestures, becoming almost mechanical. Pavlov's dog had entered the Vulpo's life, and his periods of stress were now well occupied by the weapon.
"Tomorrow," he muttered. "I really have to be careful."
Danger was lurking in the area and unknowingly closing in on him, or rather, he was closing in on them.
The silence of the forest brooded over the threat. A deer stood peacefully in a small clearing, grazing on the few bits of green that emerged from the ground. A squeak sounded, the beast stood up and turned its head from left to right looking for a threat, before resuming its meal.
"Blam."
A single shot rang out, breaking the apparent calm. The deer lunged but fell to the ground seconds later. A hole the size of a coin had appeared in its neck.
From one of the nearby bushes, Adrian's silhouette emerged, his rifle in his hands, he approached his prey, and checked the kill.
"Clean and efficient," he congratulated himself as he pulled out his carving knife.
The blade passed against the skin, unlike his first boar, this time, each movement seemed to have become more professional and experienced. The evolution had taken place and he had adapted to his new situation, admittedly crappy, but more positive than before.
As he lit a fire to cook his victim, he checked his wound. It was clean, dry and not bleeding at all. It was amazing how fast it was healing. But he wasn't going to complain about it, every advantage was good to take.
At least he had the advantage of being able to enjoy the simple pleasures of a life in the wild. The good smell of grilled meat always made him salivate. From what he had seen, his race, the Vulpo, had many traits of the red fox, even in its name, Vulpo / Vulpes. It also meant in its eating style. Although omnivorous, he had spotted a particular attraction to birds and rodents.
It wasn't very embarrassing, it didn't change his exact way of thinking, but it was a rather special surprise.
An explosion sounded in the air; Adrian jumped up grabbing his rifle with wide eyes.
"What?!" he shouted instinctively.
Several distant shouts shattered the tranquillity of his rest. A cold sweat covered the young Vulpo's back as he listened to what sounded like war cries. The sound of metal and weapons passed through the trees.
The fox looked around, ears pricked, and managed to determine where the noise was coming from. He quickly put out the fire, throwing dirt on top to cover his tracks.
Everything was too intense to be natural, and though he was clearly human, Adrian clearly didn't want to see where all the commotion was coming from.
Just as he was about to head south, a horn sounded in the distance, followed by shouting. Once again hesitation took over and swallowed up his caution.
This surprised him himself, how the hell was he still alive with such a messed up curious logic?
An unanswerable question...
"What's going on?" he thought.
Moving closer and closer to the source of the screams, he saw a very basic village. A few houses built of a mixture of wood and stone, a larger building that looked like a blacksmith shop on the outskirts of the village, and a mill sitting on an elevated area in the distance.
If he hadn't found a rifle and a pistol, he would have assumed he was in a medieval world.
"What's going on here?" he asked quietly a second time as if to convince himself.
People were running in and out of their houses quickly, trying to escape from something. Behind them, soldiers were chasing them, swinging their weapons and tearing the bodies of the villagers with a disconcerting ease.
From the hillside overlooking the scene, Adrian had a perfect view of the place.
It was a massacre. Keeping himself hidden high in a bush, he spotted a roof easily accessible from his position and climbed it to safety.
"Wait..." he thought. "What am I doing? Why don't I just run away now?"
After all, this wasn't his fight, not his village, he could just walk away and pretend he hadn't seen anything. He literally knew no one from this place and knew for sure that he would convince himself soon enough that he had done the right thing.
So why?
A villager fell with every blow. They couldn't resist them and could only flee in fear of inevitable death. Outside the village archers opened fire on the fleeing men.
A deep sense of disgust filled Adrian's mind as he watched the scene. It appeared that two men were trying to drag a struggling woman out of some sort of large house. One of them threw her to the ground and began tearing off her clothes adding more to the Vulpo's hatred.
But... was he just a coward? Wasn't it his idea to survive?
After all, he had already died once, he didn't want to meet the same fate a second time!
Cowardice was a trait he would gladly acknowledge as his own, especially when it kept him alive. A living coward was better than a dead hero!
"I want to live," he thought.
Then it hit him. While normally, at these words, he would feel a desire to leave, only a great emptiness answered.
"Shit..."
He growled to himself, caught in his own consciousness. Anyway, his life had already been fucked up once... One more one less... What would it matter?
Why did he feel so detached?
He looked around, not spotting any other bandits in range. Hissing in annoyance to himself, he quickly slipped behind one of the men. The Vulpo, or at least he, seemed to have some sort of innate ability to camouflage himself. His instincts telling him what steps to take, where to move faster and slow down making him completely unnoticeable to the men. Unsheathing the carving knife he carried on his belt, Adrian brought the blade down quickly on the man's throat.
Blood spurted from the open wound and fell backwards towards him, as he moved to the side to avoid being caught in the fall. The bandit, who had pulled down his pants, looked up terrified at the red liquid that had stained his hair. He took a step backwards and stumbled over his lowered clothes falling miserably backwards. Intense fear emanated from his entire body as he spotted the armed Vulpo.
"So... you enjoy hunting, pillaging, and raping those who can't defend themselves, but taken by surprise you run away?" he said in a bravado to quell the fear he felt.
As Adrian looked at the trembling knight, he was unable to move. He had just killed someone and felt his body want to vomit. Taking a life wasn't easy, especially in his situation. He knew he had to move quickly, but his limbs refused to move.
The bandit who had managed to get to his feet stood guard, pulling out a machete. Adrian had a slight ironic smile, showing a false confidence to keep the tears that were threatening to leave.
"So, you decided to die fighting?" he asked with pride.
Finally, he regained full control, feeling that he could die. Fear worked wonders, especially in his case. The surrounding noises of the village would hide what he was about to do. He was a coward after all and would not feel dishonorable to kill someone in a deceitful way. The safe distance, the man appearing to be examining him rather than leading the assault, everything came together.
If the bandit had attacked, Adrian didn't stand a chance and would certainly have died stabbed, sliced, or tortured.
An if that didn't count here. He grabbed his pistol from under his coat and immediately pointed it. The bandit realized at that moment that the gun on his back was not his only weapon at range. Heat went through his arm; a shot went off and a corpse collapsed to the ground.
Adrian was surprised at his own aim, expecting to miss and must empty a whole clip before he shot her and was forced to flee with the young woman. His body was surprisingly comfortable with the handling of weapons, accurate muscle memory in the case of ranged weapons.
"Occasionally, I'll have to make it my own," he noted in his mind.
He had just taken two lives, one from his hands still covered in blood and the other by his gun. The fear invaded him, the disgust and the desire to vomit the bile which went up in throat in front of his own macabre spectacle.
The Vulpo thought for a moment to let the dam of his emotions flow but remembered that the young woman was still there.
Adrian turned to look at the victim he had just saved. She couldn't have been more than twenty-five years old, she looked at him with eyes wide with shock. With everything that had happened, it was rather normal.
"W-Who are you?" she asked hesitantly as she looked at her savior.
What should he say? Should he directly admit his lack of affiliation or wait until he was sure he understood what was happening in this village. After a few seconds, he made his decision.
"I am a simple traveller passing through. When I saw your village under attack, I thought it was necessary for me to intervene. Adrian looked at the two corpses with a certain mock disinterest before continuing to speak. "Would you mind putting your clothes back on..."
The girl was still half naked for all that, the Vulpo was careful not to look directly at the exposed parts.
"Ah, uh..." She noticed that she was still naked. "I'm sorry," she said, picking up her torn clothes and covering the most sensitive parts of her body.
It was certainly a sight for many men, but for someone like Adrian it was not the best thing to see in this situation. Having finished here, he turned to leave for the heart of the village, which seemed to be the main site of the massacre. Honestly, he didn't know what he could do, but at least he would check out what was happening. Now that he had set out, he could hardly imagine how to turn back.
However, after a few steps, the voice called to him.
"Ah ... T-thank you for saving me!"
These words stopped Adrian's steps and when he turned around, he saw the young woman crying with happiness. This was new to him... Maybe he should try to save more people.
Maybe he should try to save more people. "I'm doing what needs to be done..." he blustered to hide his own fear.
The young woman hesitated for a moment.
"You're the only one I can ask! My father is the village chief... Could you save him? I-I beg you! He is my last family!"
"Okay. If he's still alive I'll try to save him."
A lie, he was just an average guy with a gun, not a soldier, much less a traveler. The best he ever is was skinning a boar.
"Thank you! Thank you very much!"
"Damn! What a fucking idea to go to the center of the village!" he insulted himself mentally.
The scene before his eyes was quite gruesome. A man tried to run, only to be hit by a blade in the back. He pulled himself to the ground, groaning, before the bandit came up and thrust the entire blade into his back, cutting him down.
Adrian stood on his roof on the other side of the square. Lying on his stomach, he had taken out his rifle and placed it in such a way that he could use it at any time.
There were thirteen bandits spread out over the village square, each with their own weapons, although none of them seemed to have any projectiles to hit him. First good point that gave him an advantage. Secondly, they were too busy gathering the villagers in the center of the village to be interested in him.
The situation was dramatic for the thirty or so men and women who were being pulled towards the center. From the cages on the edge of the square, he could only assume that they would be enslaved or sold as merchandise, a disgusting fate.
One thing to note, most of the young men and women of the village had been grouped away under the guard of four rather heavily armed people, heavy hammers, riot gear.
They were on the alert as the prisoners became agitated and showed signs of rebellion and aggression.
Adrian could still feel the burn in his throat from earlier vomiting and knew it wouldn't take much for them to leave, but he had to do something. It was stupid, after all, since he had arrived in this damn world, he had only done things that could be described as such, one more, one less...
In the worst-case scenario, he would cowardly decamp to the forest and hide, if he didn't catch him first. The Vulpo stifled the thought, gritting his teeth and looking up at the sky, forcing himself to put the bravado and the mocking smile back on his face.
He had to show nothing of his fear, his distress and all the shit he'd been through.
Quickly, he planned of what he thought was best. Alone, he would be able to take out two or three bandits before they were spotted. If they were as good as the others, and with the archers at the edge of the village, he could take out two more before they were caught and perhaps three more before they died.
Why was he thinking so blankly about his own death? What had happened to him? When had he stopped considering his life more important than anything else?
Panic overcame him for a moment, as he felt tears welling up in his eyes. His toes curled up in pain, bringing him back to the present moment. He couldn't go into a phase of doubt now, too much was at stake.
His plan... To return to his preparation. Eight slaughtered, leaving only nine in hand-to-hand combat and six archers...
If he prioritized those around the younger villagers, he could probably provoke a quick revolt by grabbing the weapons, buying him time to attack those at the back, or in the worst case, flee if the plan went wrong.
Risk but clearly the best for now.
Adrian moved slowly on the roof, taking care not to reveal himself. Passing between the tiles and jumping over a hole between two streets, he landed with difficulty above the group. His physical abilities had increased since his arrival, the constant walking and survival doing their job.
He lay down, positioning his rifle, slipping a clip into his sleeve, gritting his teeth so they wouldn't clatter furiously.
"Click."
The click of the safety removed.
"Schling."
Magazine ready. No second chances, one shot per person. Unlike the two men he had taken in the back by surprise, he had no sweet thought here that he was doing it in self-defense.
They were certainly bandits, but their kills would be entirely his own.
"Three... Two... One..." he counted in his head.
With his eye on the sights, he felt time slow down as he pulled the trigger. The bullet left the barrel and whistled through the air. At this distance, he had no chance of missing, at worst, the man would die.
"Bang."
A shout, then two and three, panic among the villagers, astonishment on the faces of the prisoners seeing their jailer collapse.
"Bang."
The second shot hit one of the most receptive bandits. He didn't have time to scream, the bullet passed through his throat. Adrian could see, even at this distance, the man's life slipping away from his eyes as he died.
The vomiting returned, but he forced himself not to give in. His cocky smile returned, when all you can do is cry, you must smile.
"Bang."
Third shot, this time the bandits had tried to take cover to com-prise where the attack was coming from. Too slow for one of them, who fell to the ground, the back of his head split open.
The puddle of blood that flowed from the opening in his skull gave the ground a crimson tint. The fight wasn't pretty, it was dirty and violent.
"Bang."
By the fourth shot, the prisoners seemed to realize that the shooter was their ally. They picked up what weapons they could and set off to take advantage of the time.
"Look out!" shouted one of the bandits from the side.
Her cry came too late to her friends, a heavy mace, formerly held by a jailer, came down on the woman's neck breaking her neck. The young woman who had just killed her enemy threw herself on the sword on the ground, throwing it towards another prisoner who caught it in the air and joined the melee that was beginning to take place.
From his rooftop, Adrian stood back, his gaze darting quickly from right to left in search of an easy or disorienting target. He spotted it and fired another round.
The mistake would cost him now. No hesitation, no mistake, everything had to go perfectly.
The Vulpo felt a tingle in his ears and rolled to the right. An arrow landed right at his old position, where his head had been. The fox's breathing became more rapid and violent, he had just escaped the cold embrace of death a second time.
Clutching his rifle, he looked for his enemy and spotted him. Taking cover behind a house, a crossbow in his hands. From the look of his different outfit, he was a person with some kind of power.
"Blam."
His shot hit close, sending pieces of stone flying from the house, forcing the crossbowman to take better cover. He couldn't see him anymore, so Adrian rushed forward, leaping onto the roof above his target.
He had no clean angle on the man to take him down in one shot. The wanderer reacted just as he had done to the boar, putting the image of prey over that of a sentient and conscious being.
Throwing all his weight around, he dropped to the ground, grabbing the bandit's throat in flight, and tackling him to the ground. The man, an Ursus, screamed in surprise, not expecting him to come by.
The bear tried to struggle. Physically, he outstripped Adrian in every way, but the grip on his throat with his hand and legs locked under his weight prevented him from moving.
Adrian raised the blade and slammed it into his eye, spinning it around to reach the brain. The sounds of agony and sucking around the steel, the struggles of the Ursus fading, the Vulpo felt the burn of stomach acid in his throat.
"Not yet." he muttered.
He thrust the blade further in, driving the entire knife to the hilt into the skull, listening to the hellish melody of agony.
Everything stopped, he staggered back, collapsing against the wall, putting his hands over his face. The sounds of fighting around him were muffled, no one could see him hiding in this alley.
He had just killed again. His hands covered in blood and placed against his face; he could smell the strong odour of the red liquid.
After several long breaths, he regained his feet long enough to start walking again.
"Smile, think about it later," he ordered himself as he struggled to get up.
Adrian could blame himself and think when he was safe, not before.
A crash broke the fighting, the huge form of a Sarkaz armed with a claymore slammed completely into the village.
"Sergeant!" roared the bandits, regaining their confidence.
"Who dares disturb us during our raid?!" roared the big man, looking around quickly.
The Vulpo froze and brought his rifle closer to him to take a clean shot.
"Fuck." thought the fox at the last moment as he felt the air vibrate.
A black smoke was escaping from the bear's hand.
The building he was standing on cracked and collapsed under the vibrations of a huge explosion. His body slid forward, and he only managed to catch himself by a small margin.
"Fucking insect!" grunted the Ursus as he noticed the gun in Adrian's hands, who scrambled to his feet and picked up his weapon from the ground.
"I think there's a misunderstanding," he tried to argue.
"Shut the fuck up! Fucking Kazdelite dog!"
"That's racist my good man, couldn't we stay on po-lier grounds?" he questioned.
"Mock while you can," the leader simply declared with a vicious, toothy grin.
"I'm in trouble," thought the Vulpo.
The fight was dirty and ugly, much like the hell that was going on around them. The villagers had certainly regained their courage, but everything was far from won, the murders were perpetuated in a relentless momentum, swords against swords, shields against spears, a form of urban combat quite dirty.
During this, fleeing, running, slipping under every attack, a young fox and Ursus.
"Holy Jesus !" braved Adrian.
The incoming blow was narrowly dodged, forcing him to fall to the ground. His Vulpine instincts kicked in, saving him from certain death as the leader's boot came down inches from his face. Bits of earth flew, hitting his face.
His breathing was heavy, exhausted, it was the first time he lived such an intense experience. The sweat pouring into his eyes stung and drowned out his other senses, his fox ears twitched, detecting the sound of the air splitting. He stepped aside at the right moment, letting the leader's heavy sword get stuck in the ground.
Taking advantage of the weapon's retention, Adrian grabbed his carving knife and thrust it into the man's hand, causing him to roar with pain. His arrogant smile grew in intensity, reflecting his ever-growing stress and panic.
"How does it feel? Does it feel good?!"
"You little shit!" spat the Ursus as he picked up his weapon.
His grip had become wobblier and tighter, Adrian's blow had had its effect.
"I have a chance," he thought.
To succeed, it was necessary to sacrifice something, the defence was too important to pas-ser when the bandit was concentrated, then ...
He felt his blood run down the blade as he lifted it, making him impale himself even more. His feet had left the ground, he was flying supported by the steel.
"You little shit!" sneered the leader.
In a moment of insane pain, Adrian reached into his trench coat and pulled out his pistol. The man had not realized it, everything was going as planned.
The bandit felt the cold along his chest, through his clothes. Adrian's gun was placed directly on his heart.
He looked up and saw the arrogant smile of a mocking fox at the end of the blade.
The blood had gorged his neck, his lungs had no more air, the fear of death invading him, the Vulpo managed to articulate a sentence.
"See you on the other side."
"Bang."
The bullet pierced the flesh and Adrian was thrown to the ground. The blade still embedded in his abdomen snapped off, sending him sliding like a foam man. He tried to get up, only to feel his body give way under his own weight.
His vision blurred, he raised his hand and saw the scarlet colour of blood. Was this how he was going to die? A second time?
He should have been worried, but there was nothing. No panic or fear, just this feeling that he had done the right thing. A much more dignified death than his previous one.
Shadows filled his eyes, words echoed from the people around him, but they could no longer hear them. If he had to die, he would do it with the same arrogant smile as before!
A death, certainly, but with the arrogance of the mask he had just taken as his own. It didn't matter to him now whether it was intact or not, he couldn't let his weakness show.
Adrian Adrecht had died to be reborn; he was not going to let himself go like that.
The bandits, they seemed to begin to flee, the body of their leader ... They took it with them ... Everything seemed to him, in this moment near death, very clear. They were too professional and cunning to come from a simple group of bandits.
"Wait... Sergeant?" he reminded himself.
More pain shot up his chest and he felt the cold against his chest.
The villagers, they were trying to heal him, the hands that removed his jacket pressing the wound, the call for a doctor.
Clutching his life as tightly as he could, listening to the sounds of the voices of the people around him, he managed to articulate the words he needed.
"Lung pierce... Piece again... Wedge... Remove... Disinfect... Press... Block..."
Each word took away a painful breath, but he forced himself to keep up.
Before the shadows took him away, he saw the impressed looks of the young men and women around him.
It was enough to reassure him, it was all worth it, his life hadn't been wasted like the last one.
Chapter complete, we can say that the first part of the story is complete, which could be likened to the discovery and first experiences of Adrian.
This story is going to keep a medium pace, I'm testing ways of writing and for what I intend to do with it, it seems to be fine.
The Kazdelite civil war will, as you might expect, be the focus of the entire first arc of this story.
I have finished planning the number of story arcs, there should be four and the story should be around 120K / 130K words.
Here, here, I wish you all a good health, take care of you and your loved ones and see you next chapter!