Beta-Reader: DannerisCringe

[Blood God - Part 1]

Not once in his life had Dream been so interested in a group of people more than the new faces he had met today. First, it was the young girl he encountered chasing after her now-deceased brother. Then it was her, most likely, older brother. Both of them reminded him of Tommy and Tubbo. The 'inseparable' duo that he loved to toy with to the point of addiction.

But why? Perhaps it was their similar faces? Or maybe their similar dogged determination when it came to those they cared about? Regardless of the reason, Dream didn't care about why he was fascinated with them. All he cared about was talking to them, seeing what made them tick. Seeing what their morals were. Seeing how far he could push their buttons before they snapped.

And as he dragged them through the snow, their arms bound by some loose rope he had found, as was their legs, he glanced over to Technoblade, who carried the other two unconscious kids on his back, his face displaying that he was deep in thought.

Just what was Technoblade thinking about? Was he thinking about what he was going to do with the kids? Perhaps he was going to judge them, or maybe even torture them? No, he wasn't that heartless. Not like himself.

Not that Dream had a heart to begin with. No. He lost that years and years ago. Far before he had ever met the pig-man, and far before he ever met George and Sapnap.

He even remembered how he lost it. It was a dark day that one. He even had nightmares because of it. And taking into consideration that his name was Dream, or well, his alias was, it was poetic. In fact, it was that battle that caused him to take up the mantle of "Dream."

The title of "Dream" ran in his family. There was his father, Dream XD, which meant Dream – Xannder Davis. Xannder Davis was the name of his father, and his name was Clay Davis. Meaning that if he ever had to take his father's place as Elder God, his title would be Dream CD.

But he couldn't just take up the name "Dream" without a fight. No, no. That was something his father would not allow. If he had to fight for the title "Dream," his son would have to do the same.

He had to fight and kill a thing by the name of the Ender-King, the former ruler and protector of The End, and the being that tamed the Ender Dragon. This was to defend The End so that no one may rob The End Cities.

The Elders and the Enders had been at war ever since the dawn of time. Or, at least, that was what his father said. The Enders was a sub-species of the race that Dream was, that being of the Elders. The Enders wanted nothing more than to turn the world into a desolate land of void and endstone because they couldn't live anywhere else.

The Elders were what made the world what it was today, though only some precincts were given credit, such as God, the Greeks, the Romans, and so on. The Dream Gods weren't given much credit, if not any at all, due to their obscurity.

Every 100 years, the Enders and the Elders would fight in a war known as the Ender-Elder war. Each time the Elders won without even a drop of blood being spilt from them, as the Enders were too far behind in technological advancements.

And during that war, it had been a tradition for the middle child of the Dream God's to fight the current reigning Ender-King to the death. That person just so happened to be Clay.

Everyone in the Davis family bloodline fought that millennium's current reigning Ender-king. His grandfather, his father, and by then, it was his turn. He remembered bringing his sword down on the foul beast, but before he could kill it, it stabbed its hand through his armour and into his chest before taking out his heart.

Had he been a mortal, he would've died. He remembered that he heard his father cry out in anger. Had it not been for his father, he would've died. Even an immortal needed a heart to live. Though an immortal could live only a few hours without one, it had been thanks to the mask that he wore that he still lived.

It was integral that he wore it. His father had imbued his signature mask with life energy, and if he didn't wear it for more than two days, he would drop dead, and that was something Dream didn't want.

And if he did, well… there would be consequences for his actions, which was something he didn't want to ever face, not until he redeemed himself… Otherwise… well, to put it nicely, he wasn't going to be going back to where his father reigned if he died.

Although, getting the chance to see his older brother would be nice, just not as a permanent resident.

"We're back. Put the kids inside the hut so that they remain warm," he heard Technoblade's cold voice speak out to him as Dream nodded silently. Moving around the fire, he dragged the kids into the hut, leaning them against the wall.

Looking at the girl, he took the hoodie off of her and placed it back over his own scar-ridden body. Adjusting the mask back to his face, he felt a wave of rejuvenation wash over him. He felt as if he could do anything now, but all he cared about doing at this current moment was resting, as he was tired from all the hunting and walking.

Plus, getting the chance to sleep on an actual bed instead of the cold floor of a prison cell was nice.

He turned around, watching Technoblade put the other two children, who were untied, on the small bed together, draping a wool blanket over them. "Untie the children, Dream. They don't need to be tied up when they're unconscious. You know that, right?" Technoblade spoke as Dream smirked.

"You don't think I don't saw what the boy did? He threw an axe at you, and with good aim. He just didn't know your status as a God. Had he known that, he would've cowered in fear at your presence, much like he had when he first saw you. Saying he isn't a threat is like saying Sam wasn't a warden," Dream remarked as Technoblade rolled his eyes.

"Exactly, Dream. I'm a god. The last thing I need to care about is this boy attempting to kill me for 'retribution' on something I never did. Even if he did lodge that axe in my head, and even if he cut my head off, it would do nothing but slightly inconvenience me, now that I have my immortality back. You? Not so much. You just have that mask," Technoblade stated as Dream placed his hand out as if to say: Bingo.

"You seem to forget that even though I could live with being stabbed in my non-existent heart, the moment my head comes off my shoulders, I'm done for. You? Not so much. That's why I tied him up. Plus, it was for ease of transport. I can untie the girl, but not the boy."

Technoblade gave him an annoyed look but took the answer for what it was. Seeing as the half-piglin wasn't going to speak out his grievances, he took out his netherite sword and cut the girl's bindings.

He heard a grunt coming from Technoblade, followed by his echoing footsteps and the sound of a door closing. The man in green sighed before frowning. He didn't want to remove either of their binds, but at the same time, he didn't want to hear Technoblade constantly nag at him.

Putting the sword away again, he snapped his fingers in front of her, causing her eyes to open up and her head to spin around as if she was about to fly like a bird.

"W-Wha- I- Huh-"

"Calm," Dream's voice was harsh, which was the exact effect he was looking for, seeing as her frantic head-turning and sputtering stopped almost instantly. "We're back at mine and Techno's camp." Dream stated, catching the black-haired girl's attention as her eyes widened in fear. Good.

"Your family is deceased, except your eldest brother and two of your younger siblings, who are sleeping on the bed just behind me. We have some food for you. If you want to eat, come out of the cabin," with that being said, Dream stood up as the girl stayed there, fear and confusion on her face as he smirked underneath his mask.

He loved that sensation—the sensation of being the bad guy. He knew that his father wanted him to turn over a new leaf, but that was a difficult task without a heart. Stepping over to the door, he lightly pushed it open and walked out of the small cabin.

The moment he did so, he was met with Technoblade sitting by the fire, looking at him, his pig mask back on his face as his crimson red eyes stared through Dream's mask and into his green ones.

"You left the kid in there? Why not help her out of the cabin, Dream," Technoblade said, biting into a chunk of wolf meat. Dream tilted his head. He was surprised it hadn't burnt. Then again, nothing seemed to really burn at the SMP… food-wise, that was. Perhaps it was just luck.

Taking a seat opposite to Technoblade and picking up a piece of meat for himself, he shrugged, earning another semi-glare from the pig-man. "Really? I'm not a babysitter, Techno. She's fully capable of getting up and leaving the cabin if she chooses. If she's hungry, she'll come out and eat. If she's not, then so be it, more for me and you."

Technoblade shook his head and continued to eat, causing Dream to feign offence. "What, I'm being honest, am I not? She's not a baby, Techno," Dream commented as Technoblade huffed.

"Fine, I get it. Just eat, then get some rest. We have a long day ahead of us," Technoblade stated as Dream scoffed, raising the mask just above his nose as he bit into the meat that he had so desperately wanted to chow down on, you know, before having to deal with the kid he had kidnapped of course.

To his surprise, it wasn't half bad. He wondered what wolf from their world would've tasted like, had they dropped any meat in the first place, that is. He still had the fur on him. Maybe he could make a cloak like Techno's for himself out of it?

Or maybe he would just use it as a blanket for now?

Either way, he didn't care what he used the fur for, although he had to find a purpose and find one soon. He wasn't going to let it take up a slot in his inventory for too much longer.

That slot could be used for something important, like an ender pearl or a sword. Maybe even more food that he could gather during the hunts he would continue doing, seeing as they were so much fun.

As he and Technoblade ate, he heard the door from the cabin open as the girl from before walked out, staring at the two with a mix of dread and fear.

Technoblade could tell that from the way she stood there, she was cautious of them. Dream could also tell that too, but he also wanted to know why she stood there only in caution and with not even the slightest bit of trust. Sure, he didn't give them much of a reason to trust them, but still.

"There's no need to be cautious. We aren't going to hurt you. I think we… I made that clear from the get-go." Technoblade spoke as the girl looked at him before glancing at the ground, then glancing at Dream, before finally taking a seat beside Technoblade and taking a piece of the meat from the campfire's rack.

Dream watched as she bit into it, and her eyes lit up slightly with the taste of the food. A part of him smirked. Even though all he did was cook it in front of a campfire, he was glad someone else other than Technoblade liked it.

For the next few minutes, there was nothing but silence. No one made a noise. No one spoke a single word. The only thing that could've been heard from the small camp was the sizzling of the campfire and the tearing of meat from eating.

Dream didn't mind the silence. In fact, he preferred it over talking and whining. Though he could tell that the girl was upset, which he couldn't blame her for, he thanked his father that she wasn't crying about it, at least not openly.

He hated crying. He fucking hated it with a passion. If anyone cried around him, he'd tell them to either shut up and move on or ignore them. That might sound harsh, but it was how he acted and how his father treated him crying. It was something you couldn't do. It showed weakness.

After another minute of blissful silence, it was broken by the girl.

"Who are you people?"

That was a question that neither Dream nor Technoblade had expected from her. The masked man looked over to Technoblade, who gave him a raised eyebrow in response.

"What do you mean?" The half-piglin asked as the girl huffed, crossing her arms before looking at the ground.

"I mean what I said. Who are you people? I've never seen you in town before, and I've never seen you in these woods before. I know you said you were travellers from another continent. I know that you said that it was pretty disconnected from the world beyond it… but I can't shake the feeling that there is something more to it," The girl said, her pink eyes drifting over to Dream.

"You, for example. Those clothing items. I've never seen them before. Aside from the pants and the mask, I've never seen anything like it before. On top of that, you look like someone from America, yet you can speak our language just fine. How?" The kid continued as Technoblade hummed.

She was right. He hadn't noticed it before she pointed it out. He wasn't speaking his native tongue. He was speaking their language. More precisely, the girls.

"You mean Japanese? Yeah, what about it. I'm fluent in a lot of languages. Just because our island was secluded from the world beyond doesn't mean that its people weren't diverse. I know German, I know English, I know Spanish, and I know your language," Dream stated casually, waving his hand dismissively.

"For example… a-hem… mein beileid zu deinem verlust. Ich habe deine Familie vielleicht nicht gekannt, aber ich weiß, wie es ist, eine zu verlieren." As Dream spoke in the foreign tounge, both the girl and Technoblade looked at him as if he had gone insane.

"What… did you say?" The girl asked as Dream chuckled slightly, fixing his mask so that it covered his face in full.

"I just said that you have my condolences for the loss of your family," Dream stated, leaning back into the tree that he was rested against as he put his hands behind the back of his head. "Now, if you excuse me, I'm going to sleep for a bit till tomorrow comes. We've all got a busy day tomorrow. From here on out, kid, you're with us. Don't fight it either. It's better to be with a group than to be alone. Believe me. I would know. Gute nacht schlaf gut und süße träume."

As he turned around, Technoblade sighed and stood up. "You heard him. Get some rest. You'll need it," Technoblade stated dryly as he snapped his fingers. Upon doing so, a bucket of water came out of nowhere, and with a quick throw, he put out the fire.

The girl stared at him as if he had just performed a work of God, but the piglin paid no mind to it. As the bucket disappeared, he walked into the hut, followed by the girl. She had only just realized that there had been several other beds, two for supposedly himself and Dream and one for guests.

Seeing her two siblings, she walked up to the bed and joined them, not disturbing their slumber in the slightest.

And then… it was quiet.

It wasn't every day that he got calls like this. When his Kasugi crow told him about a nearby Demon attack, he felt an anger surge through him, just like any other time. But this… this had been different. He had not felt how he thought he'd feel.

And it was making him feel as if something more than foul play had been involved here.

The first thing that striked Giyu Tomioka as "odd" was upon entering the scene of the crime; the air felt… different. Sure, he was no stranger to mass graves like this, but something here had been… off.

His wavy black hair rested against his split haori, one side yellow with hints of green and the other side pure red, underneath of which he wore a cyan-tinted uniform of sorts. He also wore button white leg-wrapped kyahan and a white pair of zori.

His dark blue eyes settled down at the snow itself. There was some blood residue, but what mostly interested the Water Hashira of the Demon Slayer corp was the tracks in the snow. There was one set of hoove-prints and one set of shoe prints, and some dragging lines.

And those dragging lines were what was causing the sense that something wasn't right here.

Demons, at least the unintelligent ones, never dragged their prey out somewhere else. If they caught it, they ate right where they caught it, regardless of how far the sun had come up. They'd die eating if they had to, and that was something that made the Water Hashira sick to his stomach.

Add to the fact that the dragging lines were not accompanied by blood made it even more weirder.

When Giyu requested the survey corp of the Demon Slayer corp to do a scouting of the area, several demons had been spotted in the area by the scouts, but all of them weren't that smart. In fact, the ones that were spotted were so dumb they didn't even smell the scouts in the area.

Whatever had come here to murder this family either had human intelligence or above human intelligence. If the latter were the case, he would have reason to believe that it would have been him who did this.

And if that were the case… well, he'd have to call up as many reinforcements as possible because these tracks were new, fresh per se. If he were still around, then Giyu would much rather have this mystery stay that, a mystery.

But as a Hashira of the Demon Slayer corp, he knew very well that would be counted as treason, and he would be either killed or demoted to the lowest rank of Demon Slayer for his insolence.

And with knowing that, the Water Hashira put his survival instincts to bed and focused back on the task at hand, despite his brain telling him otherwise.

The trail was consistent. Giyu would have to follow it, much to his dismay. Grabbing hold of the hilt of his sword, he took in a deep breath, and as his chest rose with his steady breathing, his muscles seemingly tightened, yet his movement seemed much looser than it had on his first trip to this place.

And as he kicked off of the ground and leapt up into the air, he landed on the nearby tree branch with ease, like a cat perching in a tree. Not even his weight seemed to disturb the branch. It acted as if nothing even landed on it.

As he looked to the ground below, his eyes narrowed. The dragging lines went straight, and only straight, same with the hoove and footprints.

Jumping from tree branch to tree branch, he kept his pace swift, his movements clean, like the flowing of water. His haori breezed in the wind as he moved, his hand still firm on the hilt of his blade, as his hair swayed with his haori.

He brushed past leaves and twigs, not batting an eye at any of them, only moving ever so slightly if he saw them coming. He was hyper-focused on the task at hand. He was not going to let this Demon go. He refused to let it go, even if it was him.

He continued jumping from tree branch to tree branch, his speed and momentum increasing with each leap he took. It was almost like watching a dancer in their natural element.

Yet even as he moved with such speed, his vision never faltered, and his breathing never wavered. He was a perfect soldier, a perfect fighter—a Demon killing machine. That was what he was trained to do. That was what he was born to do.

For his friends that died at the hands of Demons, for his co-workers whose lives were affected by the Demons, and for that now-deceased family that no longer lived, he would kill these Demons, and he would do so with no hint of mercy.

He dashed from tree branch to tree branch continuously till the trail unexpectedly ended. He stopped right in his tracks, confused. They didn't turn, and they didn't end abruptly like they had been killed right then and there. This was something else completely.

Jumping down from this perch, he glanced around the area that he found himself in. He inspected the snow, and upon doing so, he realized something. The tracks had been covered up. It meant that he was dealing with Demons that had the brains to do this. And upon realizing that, he felt a wave of uncertainty rinse through him.

So the Demon, or Demon's, in question had been smart enough to cover their tracks. That was usually a sign of higher intelligence, which wasn't a good thing, all things considered. He felt the powdery snow with his fingers before adverting his attention down the dark path that laid before him.

Something wasn't quite right about the path going forward. All Giyu could see was darkness. Pure, pitch black, darkness. "That doesn't seem right…." the boy murmured as he stood to his full height of 5'5. He narrowed his eyes down the path, his vision slightly adjusting to the darkness, yet even then, he couldn't make out anything.

He took a step forward, then another, his grip on his blade's hilt increasing as he kept moving forward. He smelt the air, and all he could smell was the same pungent smell that followed those night lurkers everywhere they went.

If Giyu had to describe the smell, it would be something along the lines of the smell of a rotting animal, mixed with the smell of blood and something else that he couldn't quite pin down. It all combined to make a foul, disgusting smell that only the likes of Demons could create.

And just as he was about to take another step forward, something pressed up against his neck. It happened so fast that he couldn't even think before he felt his back press up against something or someone.

His breathing was instantly restricted, and he choked up on the hit sinking into him. He spat up a bit as it landed on the floor. He just barely make out some sort of wood being pressed up against him and the glint of metal on the other end of the stick.

He could see two hands placed on the handle, both of which were pale, and two green sleeves around the wrists of the thing that had pinned him against himself. He hissed, trying to draw in some sort of air to his lungs. However, as he did so, the thing that had caught him off guard pulled the weapon closer to his neck, putting more pressure on it.

He forcefully exhaled the remaining air in his lungs, and with a swift back kick, he was able to stun the assaulter, making their grip on the wooden bar falter, which gave him enough wiggle room to squeeze out the hold he had found himself in.

Upon getting free, he jumped back, bringing out his blade from his sheath, revealing a blue-tinted blade with a refined edge. As he spread his legs out into a fighting stance, he was able to get a look at his opponent.

They wore a green shirt with a hood, a white mask with a simple smiley face on it, and a pair of damaged jeans. On his feet were some sort of shoe. As he scanned the person up and down, he could see some splotches of blood on the lower corner of the shirt, and his eyes narrowed upon seeing it.

"Hmph, that was rather dirty. You tried to kick my legs out a moment ago, not gonna lie, kinda a dick move, don't ya think?" The voice of his opponent was rather laid back, almost uncaring. He couldn't see his face, mostly because of the mask that covered it, but from the tone of the voice, he could sense that the person was smirking.

Although he cared not to respond, he only stood there, waiting for his opponent to do something else. He couldn't tell whether or not this person was human, or Demon, due to how his clothing covered every inch of his body, sans his hands.

Upon a few more moments of silence, the person decided to speak up again. "Not very talkative, are you? Let me guess… You're the type of person to sit still and obverse, waiting for their enemy to strike again. Am I right?" That time, Giyu knew his assaulter was smirking. There was no way he wasn't, not with that type of tone.

"I'll keep it real with you, pal. You're trespassing. You either leave now, or I separate your head from your shoulders. Got it? It's late, and I'm kinda not in the mood to fight. I'd rather be sleeping right now. Thanks to the tripwire you set off, I was only aware of your presence, which alerted me to your approach."

Giyu now had a hint of confusion strewn across his face. A tripwire? When? Was it because of the snow that he didn't see it? It must've been. It would explain why the snow had been covered. But, there was also something else to his wording that clued him in that he wasn't a Demon.

The fact he mentioned sleeping.

Demons never slept. They did not need to, which means that this person was, in fact, not a Demon. The feeling of anger left his body, yet he did not move from his stance. Just because he wasn't a Demon did not mean he wasn't a threat. Not at all.

"Well?" The man asked, his tone impatient. Giyu felt a sense of dread wash over him, but he continued to remain still.

"Drop your weapon, and I'll leave," Giyu stated firmly, causing the man to huff.

"Oh? Well then, how about we both put our weapons away. That way, I know you won't try to kill me? Sounds fair, right?" The man stated, the air growing more tense as the seconds continued onward.

"Okay." Giyuu didn't know why he agreed, but if it allowed him to continue his hunt for the Demons that killed the family, he would do so. He wasn't about to turn his back on an armed opponent. He made that mistake once already, and he wasn't going to make it a second time.

"On the count of three…." The man's voice was cold, and it made the tension grew denser as the man spoke, and Giyu felt sweat accumulate on his forehead.

"One."

Giyu felt the man's eyes narrow, despite not being able to see them.

"Two."

The Water Hashira decided that he would respect this man's wishes. Besides, if he were human, this would be a big misunderstanding that could be swept under the rug. It wasn't as if this hadn't happened before.

"Three."

Upon the third number being reached, the two of them both put their weapons away. Giyu's sword returned to his hilt while the man's weapon seemingly vanished into thin air. That set off alarm bells in Giyu's mind.

"See, that wasn't so hard, was it?" The man said, his head tilted ever so slightly to the left, his hands behind his back. Giyu glared at the man, suspicious of his every movement. How did he make that weapon disappear? Is he really a human? Perhaps he truly was a Demon, and what he just did was his Demon Blood Art. Whatever it was.

"What are you?" Giyu demanded as suddenly. He felt a chill go down his spine. The moment he asked the question, he felt… fearful. Why? Why did he feel fearful? The person in front of him didn't seem dangerous without a weapon, so why did he feel fearful?

The man just stood there, the mask obscuring his face as he hummed. Although it was quiet, Giyu could make it out, but only slightly. He went to grab the hilt of his Nichiren blade, but when his hand grazed the hilt, something shot out at it, wrapped around it, and slinked back to the man.

He glanced over to him, only to see a fishing rod. When did he get a fishing rod?! Better yet, how did he get the fishing rod. The man eyed his blade, studying it, then he discarded it behind him. "Interesting. Never seen such a thin blade in my life. But, if you want to see what a real sword looks like, well, allow me to introduce you to my little friend," and as the man spoke, he pulled out a blade of his own.

It was a thick blade with a serrated edge. The hilt was made out of a dark brown wood of sorts with some sort of language carved into the side of the hilt. The blade shined in the moonlight, and if Giyu would've thought any better, he could've sworn that it was a Nichiren blade.

But why would a Demon have a Nichiren blade?

Clearly, this guy was a Demon. No human could make things disappear and reappear on command. But the fact that he had a Nichiren blade meant one or two things. Either he was a Demon Slayer before he became a Demon, or he killed a Demon Slayer and stole their weapon.

"See, now this is a real weapon. Now, I thought we had an agreement that if we put away our weapons, you would leave. But you didn't. Now you've angered me. You really shouldn't have angered me. Because now, you're disarmed, and now, you're going to die. How about-"

"Dream."

A new voice? But where? The person seemed to stop in his tracks when the voice spoke out. "What are you doing, Dream? I thought I told you to sleep. We have a busy day ahead of us tomorrow, and I'll be damned if I have to hear you complain all day tomorrow."

Giyu turned to where the voice was, and he paled upon seeing it.

Pink skin, red, cat-like eyes, a golden crown on his head, and a king's cloak on his back. A white blouse and red pants of sorts, and pig-like legs. But there was something in his eyes. Something that he saw, and even if it was only for a split second, he paled when he did.

It was a Demon, that was for sure, but in its eyes was something that made him shiver. It wasn't something he had been expecting. He wasn't an Upper Moon, nor was he a Lower Moon… he was...

血の神(Blood God)

-To be Continued-

So, we back at it again with those Cliff-hangers. But you know what, suffer. Yes, I know that this chapter ends with a Cliff-hanger, but it opens this story up more to interpretation more than before. Is Technoblade a Demon because he's a half-piglin? Or is it just a coincidence? Perhaps it's a little bit both? But hey, it doesn't matter.

I know the fight scene was rather lacklustre, but it wasn't supposed to be a massive fight in the first place. However, it will properly illustrate how the Hashira will interact with the two SMP members.

Until next time, see you all in the next chapter.