Prologue: Reawakening
A man covered in blood walks into the mesa, scraping his chipped, rusty trident against its grounds, he breathed hard. His eyes glowing, behind his dirty pig-like mask, and a myriad of voices call out for blood.
He traveled for days through the mesa, neither the heat nor the cold could stop him. As a demigod, the elements to him are simply an annoyance, but even they had their limits. Persevering, he soon arrived at a big crack in the ground, looking down he couldn't even see the bottom.
This was the Ravine of the Lost, it seemed to him that anything or anyone thrown in would be lost for all eternity, or so the legends go. The demi-god's power had plagued him for too long, he wished to detach his connection to his divinity and the cost of such power.
He finally had enough with the voices in his head and rips of his mask, the only connection to his godhood, and stared in silence bearing the face of anger, hatred, and frustration as he threw it and his trident down into the depths of the ravine. Finally, for the first time in a long time, it was quiet, it was peaceful, it was freedom. Walking away he felt the cold night sky and he smiled, a free man once more.
Years Later...
The noon scorches the village below, with many of its residents seeking shelter. Many seek shelter, the women, the children, and even the livestock, but the men continue to work.
Some train for battle, some still help with construction, and some continue to farm, it was a harvest, and the crops needed to be harvested otherwise they would succumb to the scorching heat.
One man, in particular, helped the most, out of all the residents this one was the most peculiar out of all the residents, he only knows farm potatoes and is the largest potato farmer in the village, so much so it was the village's largest source of trade income. The pink-haired man finishes his harvest and brings the crops to the town hall to keep them from cooking under the sunlight.
"Hey Dave, good harvest?" Another farmer asks, drenched in sweat as he slams his sack of potatoes.
"Of course, it seems yours is just as bountiful, I wouldn't expect anything less from my only rival," Dave answers, wiping the sweat off his brow.
Dave was a tall, well-built man, but despite the scorching heat and the back-breaking labor, it looked like he had done a light exercise, the potatoes were quickly washed and stored for later. The harvest season is nearing its end and soon the winter will come, villages that aren't prepared often have to trade for food from the kingdoms for a very high price.
The day ended as the farmers rested and their wives or families came out to celebrate the harvest. Dave had left the village during the festivities and was practicing with a wooden sword. His movements were swift, with each attack flowing into another.
As he was practicing the clacking of bones and the drawing of arrows caught his attention, ducking under the shot arrows shot by the skeleton horde that had surrounded him. "Can't a guy just practice in peace?" Dave asked, only to be answered by another volley of arrows.
"Guess not," Dave commented, dodging the volley and charging the closest skeleton, slashing it with his wooden sword. The skeleton quickly fell and the next volley of arrows was skillfully dodged. But as the battle progressed, whispers could be heard.
"Blood..."
"Kill them all..."
"Bone meal... "
Shaking his head Dave made quick work of the skeletons and collected their bones to turn into bone meal, walking back to the village, when he arrived when the festivities were over and everyone was cleaning up. Dave headed back to his home, a single-story house with a backyard and shed.
Placing the bones into a chest he checked himself for injuries, finding none he then proceeded to inspect the durability of his wooden sword. Most warriors wouldn't be able to tell the durability of the weapon, only the skilled could closely inspect their weapon and assess their durability.
"Seems fine for now, glad I'm not rusty at least," He mumbled to himself, placing the sword next to his bed.
He soon headed out intent on helping the others clean up, if there was anything left to clean but the Winter Festival was always messy, sure enough, he found the others still cleaning. There were several people left either picking up plates or wiping up spills.
"This place looks like a mess, as usual, mind if I help?" Dave asked, grabbing a broom, the other men welcomed him.
"Dave, where were you? You missed the festival again." Steve questioned as he patted Dave on the back.
Dave simply laughed while picking up some baked potatoes and chatted with the other villagers, soon the time came where even he grew tired, and so the village finally went quiet as its inhabitants slept through the night.
As soon as it's quiet, shady people surrounded the village to scout, while there were more men in one direction, going to spearhead formation. Unfortunately, this village had caught the attention of a bandit group, the leader had been interested in the increase of harvest for the past 20 years, and it is ever increasing by the second.
This village that was originally founded on barren land which quickly turned into a place with flourishing flora would certainly pique the interest of the leader who knew both magic and the sciences, as something like this would have taken more than 50 years with current technology.
The leader of this tribe was a man of mystery, always wearing a creeper mask to hide his true face. Destroying and pillaging villages throughout the land with great magic and the aid of his bandit tribe, he was well known and feared in the criminal underworld.
"What is the status of the village?" The leader questioned, the scout in front of him bowing.
"The village has 1 iron golem and 7 guards, all armed with iron swords and wearing full iron armor, as for the wall it is only a block thick and made of smooth stone." The scout answered, pulling out a map of the village.
Studying the map and the patrol routes, he smiled as a strategy was formed in his mind. His smile grew wicked as he visualized not only his strategy but also the rewards he could get and the secrets he could acquire from this seemingly god blessed city.
"Prepare the men, we will have a strategy meeting and strike at dawn." He commanded, his voice filled with authority.
"Sir yes sir!" the scout shouted, running off to gather the men.
The men soon gather before their leader, 50 men clad in enchanted iron armor armed with various weapons. They will swarm the village and overwhelm the defenses, then take all the harvest, and kill those who resisted.
"Spare the famers, kill only the guards, we want this village to continue prospering so we can raid it again when the time comes." The leader orders.
All the men bow down and shout, "As you command!"
"We strike at midnight, arm yourselves." The leader commanded, his cunning eyes filled with greed and gluttony as he thinks of all the riches, workforce and to never starve for his materialistic needs, but deeper in is the greed to create bloodshed and chaos including his pride to prove his superiority looks as it will never subside.
As Dave was finally in a state of peace, thinking that no other thing would disturb the tranquil and calm of his life, the voices called out.
"I can feel….. battle, "
"We feel… D,"
"Village…... danger!"
Dave wakes up like one escaping a nightmare, and hears fear, agony and despair fill the air. He rushes out his abode to see some of his neighbours' homes set ablaze by assailants emerging from the night.
This scene, people screaming slowly turn from a peaceful settlement to a chaotic warzone. And there he was in the middle of a sea of corpses, a rage building in him, the life he had built was being torn down before him. The voices echo in rage.
"Kill them all!"
"No mercy!"
"Blood for the Blood God!"
The last line awoke something in him, but he ignored it and charged into battle, grabbing his wooden sword and attacking the nearest bandit. One swing and the bandit lost his life, despite the wooden blade's dull edge, the force of the blow snapped the unfortunate bandit's neck.
The other bandits notice this feat and immediately charge the man, however they meet the same fate, each one that came too close had their life ended. Some of them wise up and draw their bows and crossbows.
Dave was in a rage, but his mind remained alert, and hearing the drawing of arrows he let his instincts take over and dodge the first volley. Unlike the skeleton horde, a few manage to hit their mark but he rips them out and chucks them back at the enemy.
"P-please have merc-" A guard pleaded, never finishing his last word as he was blown to bits.
The leader dusts off the pieces of the man, hearing his men's screams, he looks at the source and sees a single man beating back his soldiers with a wooden sword. Seeing the absurd situation his mind shuts down.
The bandits surround him, maintaining their distance from the madmen, hitting him when the opportunity shows itself only to end up getting blocked by the wooden blade. One man swings his axe from behind and Dave blocks it, but at last the wooden sword snaps in half.
The men cheer as they get closer to the seemingly unarmed man, an unfazed Dave grabs the one who broke his weapon and snaps his neck, grabbing his iron axe. The tides turn once again as he uses the axe to decapitate several people.
Seeing his men losing, the leader finally snaps out of his shock and gives an order, "Men! To me!"
Hearing the order the soldiers enacted an immediate retreat, few sacrificed themselves to allow the others to return to their leader. However this act solidified their defeat as Dave locked eyes with the leader.
"Charge! Give him no chance to attack!" He shouted, beginning to fear the gaze of the bloodied man.
Dave charged as well, swinging with the axe and when he was disarmed he grabbed a iron sword from a downed soldier and continued through the enemy. Parting them like a hoe through the dirt as they fell in droves.
At last they meet face to face, Dave had several cuts and was bleeding but that didn't seem to slow him down or make him any less menacing to the bandit leader before him.
The bandit leader however didn't falter and in an attempt to get his bearings introduced himself. "I am the Flaming Conqueror, but you may call me Sam."
The look in Dave's eyes conveyed his answer, 'Does it look like I care to hear the name of a dead man?'
Sam was infuriated by the audacity of this man, fear turned to rage as he accepted the strength of the man before him. Drawing his rapier, he strikes only to be parried by Dave and knocked back by the sheer force of the blow.
Taking the opportunity Dave charged at Sam, the axe met rapier as the two clashed.
Initially Dave thought that he gained the upper hand, but Sam's swordplay prowess manages to parry every single of the pink-haired man's attacks. Even when Dave switches his rhythm, he slowly comes to the realization that Sam's most powerful trait against him was his adaptability.
There were breaks in between blows, observations for openings to be exploited, and when openings were found, the sound of weapons clashing was heard once again. The balance of power was shifting unpredictably, it would seem Dace had the upper hand, but Sam with his excellent parries and counterattacks could manage to push Dave back, shifting the balance once more.
But this was never a contest of brawn, but a war of attrition. Dave acknowledged the fact he was indeed rusty not in muscle memory, but in combat strategy as he feels he knows the existence of many other openings, but cannot seem to figure which ones.
Sam however had the perks Dave didn't, which was the ability to predict the man's outdated attack style, the only thing was the bandit leader was slowly letting up, his lack of stamina catching up.
Sam was very used to exploiting rookie openings to create a swift death, but in this fight there were no such openings, he very much knows that in this war of attrition unless he dealt a decisive blow, he would succumb to his exhaustion long before this man.
"You are the only mortal to have entertained me this long, I suppose I have to spare you some praise, for now you may call me Dave," Dave pointed out.
This statement put Sam's mind into overdrive, trying to figure out what his opponent meant by that. But soon he had no time to think as the battle grew fiercer; instead he decided to try and get an advantage in this fight.
Sam launches a Heat Wave magic attack that he had been conjuring in secret from the start of the duel. The magic attack caught Dave off-guard, he did not expect the possibility that even though the leader had an incredible but unfinished style of swordsmanship, he was hiding the fact that he was actually a capable mage.
Sam threw magic after magic, fire magic then earth magic, but no magic was enough to decisively deal damage to the man, instead Sam chipped away at Dave. Everytime Dave made an advance, earth magic would hinder him and fire magic would get the miniscule amount of damage in, eating away at Dave's skin and his clothing.
The impossible had happened, Dave began to falter, his weapon was melting from the heat caused by Sam, and it didn't help that the duel had happened after the exhausting fight he had with the other bandits. Dave was slowly succumbing to the attacks conjured by the mage, as the mage only slowly drained little mana from his clearly vast capacity to keep up with just one farmer.
As Dave begins to slowly succumb to his wounds, the voices called out this time chanting in unison.
"blood for the blood god….."
"Blood for the Blood God.."
"BLOOD FOR THE BLOOD GOD!"
The voices were now shouting, reawakening something within him, something he had thrown away years ago. He could feel it grow with the intensity of the chanting, his spark of divinity.
In the mesa biome, a storm was brewing above the Ravine of the lost, the clouds were dyed crimson and lightning could be seen charging up within. With each passing moment the storm grew stronger and brighter.
Dave had fallen to one knee, as Sam was assured of his victory as he halted his assault, little did he know with this action, he had made the last mistake he would ever make in this lifetime. He let the Blood God return, and he would soon learn why the person standing before him was called the Blood God.
The storm had reached its climax as the Blood God released a fierce Aura of Bloodlust, and crimson lightning shot into the ravine. The lightning clawed into the earth destroying the ravine and unearthing a rusty trident and a dirty mask, the two items glowed as the power of the storm vanished into the trident, allowing it and the mask to return to their former glory and fly out at supersonic speeds.
Sam was pushed back by the sheer bloodlust emanating from the man, and two words entered his mind, 'Blood God.'
The Blood God charged at him again, destroying his earth constructs and repelling his flames, Sam could only desperately unleash all the spells he knew and as each one failed he fell deeper and deeper into despair.
The sound of lightning thundered through the village and a trident slammed into the ground between them, knocking Sam back into the stone wall but Dave remained unmoved, he reached for the pig mask hanging on the trident, hesitating for a moment before grabbing it and putting it on once more.
The voices rejoice in a symphony, without the mask, the Blood God would merely hear at most three voices but with the mask he was now hearing an empire's worth of voices. He felt the nostalgic feeling of power but instead of getting swept up by it, he controlled it, dominated it and made the previously uncontrollable power his to command.
"Flaming Conqueror, Sam, I hereby acknowledge your power and shall grace you with my true form, not Dave but the Blood God." the demigod announces, grabbing his trident and raising it to the heavens, slowly his tattered old clothes give way to a noble outfit and his farmer's hat transforms into a golden crown.
Calling forth another crimson storm, lightning dropped down and entered the trident, now pulsing with Divine demigod aimed the trident at the bandit leader, who stared back at the weapon and thought, 'This is the power of the Blood God?'
A wave of lightning was unleashed onto the battered leader, pushing him through the wall and electrocuting him. He was launched away from the village and over the horizon. Techno turned away from the broken wall as the surviving villagers looked at him with a mix of awe, fear, and reverence.
It was at that moment that Techno knew his mortal life had ended, and the Blood God had returned, the world shivering as he screamed in pure rage and sorrow. The villagers did not dare approach him and cowered before him, begging for mercy.
Techno hearing this and the numerous voices in his head turned away and vanished in a wisp of bloody smoke.
Elsewhere in a fortress so giant that it reached the border of the gods, laid a man with a smiling mask and green hood.
"Ah, so the Blood God emerges once more, I knew he couldn't resist the temptation forever." The man said, starting to laugh as the final piece in his grand scheme finally revealed himself.
A river flows, its water pure until a man crashes into it staining the water red. He flowed down carried by the stream until two travelers saw his mangled body and pulled him onto shore.
"George, get a look at this! This much damage was done to a man and he's still alive!" A catlike-person called out, and the sword on his back was shining.
"Woah! His jaw is pulverized and most of his internal organs are gone, is this guy even human?" George added.
The corpse was beyond recognizable, only a fifth of the human internal organs can be seen intact, the rest are either damaged beyond repair or just gone. His heart was nowhere as seen in a brutally opened ribcage. Even in these conditions, and half his vocal chords lost, he shouted raspily," G...ive ME tHe BLOO..D GOD…!"
"The what?" both questioned.
To be continued….