Title: Mercy?
Alt Title: None
Fixed the grammar and spelling
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I
Am
ALIVE!
So, this chapter took so long. Turns out when you put a vote out over what fic gets a new chapter on a discord server of people who almost exclusively use QQ when this fic is on FFN and hasn't been crossposted is, you can do the math. I had to cheat to get this voted on.
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CritKhagan: thanks!
Aren Gisly: Been a while.
T4ndoris: took a while, but here's more!
Kaykaykaykayan: Kind of an illusion? Not really? Read and find out!
Dancingleaf: Pack leader makes the bite more infectious, while Dire Wolf makes it more lethal. No real difference in the kind of werewolf that gets churned out. It's mostly dependent on the one bit.
I hate cancel culture. We need to stop "You can't like X because X. If you do then you're bad!" And bring back "I like X, despite its faults"
Old capitan: Yes actually. Triad, twilight lord of Nazerick.
Gellius G Goop: She would make a good pet.
Guest: I have returned!
FAKE-ROB: Because of all the other Norse crap?
RiverOffers: Glad you're enjoying! And maybe he will.
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I've never done this before. But FFN really got fucky and eliminated a decent chunk of words from the upload, and I keep getting called out on the whole Wetewolf thing.
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Yes, I am still using dots to separate because I still can't figure out how to use spaces. FFN likes squishing my paragraphs together when it's empty.
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-Date, Time-
'Thoughts'
"Speech"
[Spells/Telepathy]
(Text)
*Sounds/Actions*
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-E-Rantel-
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Zamaina "Inazama" POV
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"What, the actual hell?" I say as I stare at the man.
"That's all you have to say to me runt?" He sneers. "Youngest of Fenrir, last of Laufey's lineage, Defyer of the Norns. And so, much, more. And all you can do upon my encounter, is to invoke your aunt."
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"By the world tree itself, you must love the sound of your voice." I snide back.
We stare at each other for a while longer. Or rather, I stare at him. Both his eyes are bandaged with a grey cloth. I only know it's Odin because of the ravens. And his appearance matches the opening cinematic of his raid fight before he would don his armor.
Minus the bandaged eyes of course.
"Not many would speak such disrespect to The Allfather." He says simply with no malice in his voice. As though he were merely stating a fact.
"Not many have killed the Allfather, singlehandedly." I say.
"True enough I suppose." He says as he walks.
Everywhere his cane taps, becomes a grassy field. The walls moving and crumbling away to allow him passage.
"You don't seem too upset over that, if I'm honest." I note. "Actually no, what are you even doing here?"
He looks to me before shaking his head.
"You're wearing my eye, boy." He says. "I gave my right for greater vision and wisdom. You took my left as a trophy. Had you not thought there'd be something of a mystic sorts about it?"
'Fuck!' I think to myself. 'Flavor text! I forgot all about that!'
The flavor text of The Left Eye of Odin. Says it holds his magic and the last of his soul so that the wisdom he gained could never be lost.
I'm walking around with a bootleg phylactery on my neck!
"Fuck." I moan. "So what? You here to take over my body? Return from the dead?"
"If I could, I wouldn't be speaking to you." He says as the room is now a field.
Everyone is still here. And Ninya's corpse is still posted against the wall. It's just that said wall is now crumbled to be a tombstone, and has flowery vines growing over it. And starting to grow over Ninya.
"You, whether I like it or not, are the last living member of the Norse. Not even your aunt Hel survived Ragnarök." He says. "And with your grandfather being an honorary Aesir, you are technically the last of Asgard."
"The point." I say.
"Patience is a virtue, runt." He sneers. "I'm here, because I refuse to see the last of my people make a fool of themselves."
"I'm not one of your people." I sneer back. "And why would you help me? Last I checked, I'm the son of the beast who was meant to devour you, and whom you locked away out of fear of what he could do."
He turns his head away from me. Looking to the ground his cane is currently steadied on.
"None have defied the Norns, in all of history." He says softly. "Their tapestry, so intricate and loved by them. They doted on it as if it were their child. I tried all I could to get them to change their cloth."
'The Norns, they're the Norse version of the three fates, right?' I ask myself.
"Nothing would convince them." He says before turning to look at me. "Then there's you. The runt of Fenrir. You saw your fate, and rather than beg, bargain, lash out or accept. You simply said, no. And unlike all others who had done so before, you managed to succeed in your efforts of escaping fate's shackles."
Okay, I know this is getting into cliché monologue territory. But I'm a sucker for cutscenes and I really want to hear the rest of this.
"You, a single thread, disregarded by all of us. Frayed, and ripped the tapestry. The Norns were frantic, tried to weave the cloth back and get rid of you. But you yet again, refused. Every challenge you overcame made you stronger, every challenge that bested you, sent you to your aunt and made you smarter for your return."
'Is he referencing the respawn mechanic?' I ask myself.
"You clawed the tapestry, shredding it, and the fate of Ragnarök itself was altered." He says. "And now, here I am. To guide you."
"Really?" I say unimpressed.
"You did what others could hardly dream of." He says. "For that, you have my respect. Besides, I'm dead with no way to return. My family's souls are either scattered or rotted into the Ginnungagap. I literally have nothing better to do."
"Okay?" I say with a shrug. "Why are you here?" I ask.
"It is as I said." He says as he walks behind the corpse of Ninya, still sat against the crumbled wall with veins growing over her. "I'm here to offer my wisdom. Those corrupted into the Draugr so weak, are beyond salvaging. But, she was not."
"But she's still dead, and I doubt she's strong enough to be resurrected." I point out.
"True, her soul lacks the strength to return in full." He says as a cloudy mist rolls from behind him. "But, life and death, are not always all there is. You still have a fragment of the first father to the Blood Draugr."
'Blood Draugr?' I think to myself. 'Vampire? Dracula's fang!'
"But she's already dead." I point out. "She needs to be alive for that to work."
"Not, necessarily." He says. "They just need their soul to inhabit their body."
He taps his staff on the ground. And a small gold flame, with a blue outline, burns the spot where Ninya's heart is.
"Another of the blood draugr's children would not hold the potency in their bite to do such a thing." Odin says as the mist rolls over him. "But the father, tends to hold more sway than his children."
'Did he just?' I think as I squint at him. 'He totally just hyped himself up.'
Everything returns. And I turn back to Momonga.
"We need to talk later."
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Ninya POV
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So cold. So dark. So sleepy.
Am, am I dead? Or am I asleep? Which is it?
Oh, there's a light, it's red. Well, there's nothing else here.
On step at a time. The soft foot falls on the black voided tile, slowly turn to red and sloshy. Like I'm walking through mud.
And then I smell it, the soft metal scent of blood. It, reminds me of wine for some reason. Or juice.
We never really got to have juice. I was always saving my money, looking for my sister. Never had the time to enjoy things.
Though the others would always get me things to make sure I didn't feel left out.
I taste it! Oh, by the four it tastes heavenly. So good!
What is this? This deliciousness? It's so much sweeter than anything I've every had!
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"Slow down." I hear a calm, soothing voice say. "If you drink too fast, you'll choke."
Opening my eyes to the well lit room filled with a mix of that delicious, sweet scent, and a fermented, rotted smell. Looking up to the man holding me.
'Sexy man!' I think as I blush.
If Inazama was hot, this guy is gorgeous. Soft, delicate features mixed with sharp, noble ones. White hair sat on an unblemished face. Porcelain skin, white as snow and symmetrical as though it were crafted.
All brought together by gorgeous ruby red eyes with slitted pupils.
'So gorg- VAMPIRE!' I think in a panic as I throw myself from his arms.
"Help!" I scream. "Vampire! Peter! Lukrut! Dyne! Help-mmrph!"
I look over see who's covering my mouth. Black hair, blue eyes, strong jaw and roguish stubble.
'Inazama?' I think as I piece together what's going on. 'Is this one of those dreams?'
"Ninya, I know you're confused." He says sternly. "But we need you to stay, calm."
He takes his hand away from my mouth. And I lick my lips of the wetness that was there before. It's more of that sweet juice. But, I just can't tell what kind though.
"What's, going on?" I ask.
"What do you last remember?" Inazama asks. "Before all of this."
"Um, we were, escorting Nfirea back." I say as I start recalling. "And, and then, oh, oh no!"
My eyes sting with tears as recall it.
The screams! The blood! Peter fell first! A blade to the neck, and then Dyne. I cast a spell, and the monster charged at me! Lukrut got in her way and! His last words!
"Go! Get out of here!" He screamed as the blade stuck through his leather armor.
He grabbed the arm of the woman. Trying to hold her in place for me to escape.
But I was too scared! I couldn't flee! I was rooted in fear. Too busy pissing myself to run as I watched Lukrut fry from the enchanted blades.
And then, she turned to me.
"Ninya!" Inazama shouts.
I snap out of my memories by Inazama shaking me by my shoulders.
"You, you, you came." I say as I keep crying. "I knew you would!" I throw myself at my savior, wrapping him in a large hug as I cry. "I begged, I cried and I begged! She wouldn't stop! She just kept laughing! I told her you'd come, and she just laughed more!"
I cry myself to sleep in his embrace. As the comfort of dreams takes me.
Or, I wish. My dreams are empty now. There's nothing here.
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Inazama POV
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"Here, take her to the Sakura Sanctuary." I say as I hand the undead girl to Tsukune. "Ease her into her new, condition, as best you can when she wakes up."
"Of course, father." He says, taking the girl in one hand as he hands me the Dracula's Fang before turning to a portal forming in the hall.
Stepping through and disappearing. I think on all that just happened.
I can work with this. The others can't be brought back because they were turned into zombies. The process forced their souls out of their bodies and made any chance of resurrection impossible. At least, none that would see them survive the attempt.
The Dracula's Fang is a ring I had made for Tsukune. But I ended up keeping it for myself because he never needed it. And I kept it for the insane speed buff it gives. It gives an additional forty percent increase to all vamperic abilities. One such ability? Turning others.
It didn't work that way in game. But with lore and flavor text being more, tangible.
Tsukune is the strongest vampire in all of Nazerick. Having nearly maxed the Vampiric race tree. With the only race left being a hidden one that I never figured out how to unlock. He has a total of fifty levels in vampire. While Shalltear only has twenty.
It's the main reason their true forms are so different. Tsukune is, not very powerful at base, only about a level sixty at best. But after activating his Crimson Hell Form, he's the second strongest being in Nazerick after Rubedo. For so long as he can keep it up.
But, the ring has hidden effects. One of them being that the higher level a vampire you are, the higher the vampiric bonus. Especially at night. Which it currently is.
And one of the abilities of a vampire? Turning others into vampires.
You can do the math. The others are no good. There's nothing we can do about them. Whatever magic zombified them, tainted the soul to such a point that only a reincarnation spell would bring them back.
If only we had a shaman. They'd be able to rearrange their souls back from whatever corruption tainted them.
"Are you sure it's wise to do so?" Momonga asks. "We learned some valuable information, but questions will be asked as to where Ninya is."
"We can always say she was kidnapped." I say as I turn to him. "Whoever did this, they're clearly of a necromantic sort. We can always spin a tale as to how they likely took them for their magic talent."
"As plausible as any I suppose." He says.
[Dude, you cool?] He messages.
[I'm, pissed.] I message back.
[Why? They're not that powerful, I mean, sure they were helping our reputation. But, we weren't that close.] He reasons to me.
[Momonga. They took, my property.] I message back. [Everything in me is screaming that I return the favor.]
My blood is racing. The moon is out, there's blood in the air.
And I'm pissed!
"Hello?" We hear the voice of an old lady, slightly snapping me from my instincts. "Oh my gods! Nfirea!"
"He's not here!" I shout back. "We're in the back!"
The quick clacks of shoes can be heard as the old lady makes her way to the back room.
"What happened! Why are their bodies!? Where's Nfirea!?" She starts breathing heavily, her heart thudding loud enough for me to hear.
"We're unsure." Momonga says. "We got here but a few minutes ago. And came across, well, all of that. We were looking for clues."
"And we got them." I say as I walk past Momonga and place a hand on the lady's shoulder. "You have it on our authority. Nfirea will be brought back to you."
[Dude!] Momonga messages. [We could've gotten something out of this! Now you're doing it for free!?]
[Oh just think of the cred we'll get you big baby!]
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-E-Rantel Cemetary, 11:30pm-
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Lucidio POV
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"Man." Rodigo complains as he rests on his halberd. "Fuckin hate grave shift."
"It sucks." I mindlessly agree with him.
"Nothing ever happens on the grave shift!" He keeps going.
"It's a quiet night." I say.
"They're all quiet nights." He points out. "Quiet, cold, hell half to time the damn courier forgets we exist and we ain't get lunch!"
"Sucks." I say dispassionately.
"It does!" He whines. "And somehow, I keep getting put on the graveyard shift!"
'That's because no one can stand to be near you.' I think tiredly.
"And what's else, is-"
*Crraaaaack*
"What was that?" I ask, suddenly wide awake and alert.
"Probably nothing." Rodigo scoffs. "Nothing ever happens 'round here."
"No seriously." I say as I turn to the barred gate.
Only to feel my heart stop at the sight awaiting me.
White bones, ragged clothes. Soulless eyes and gangrenous flesh as far as the eye can see. Stretching out further into the darkness past my vision.
Hordes of the undead!
"Waoh whaaa! Shit!" I shout in fear as I step back.
"Not funny Luciiiiiaaaahhh!" Rodigo screeches as he turns to look at the horde.
As we try and gain our bearings, from the darkness marches a skeletal wall! A monstrous swath of bones, writhing higher up to scale the gate. A singular goal in its mind.
"W-w-w-we need to go!" Rodigo shouts. "Warn the town!"
"What good would it do?" I ask numbly as my legs refuse to move. "Even if we got there in time."
How could we possibly stop this?
As I think this, a lightning bolt hits the mound of bones like an arrow to a man's head. The undead monster collapsing in a heap behind the gate.
"Onward!"
"Aye!"
Turning around just in time to catch the sight of a raven black knight with a crimson red cape, astride a large beast with a serpentine tail. A beautiful woman riding just behind him.
And to my disappointment, a copper plate around his neck.
"Stay here men!" The noble voice of the knight resounds. "Make sure none pass!"
Before I can say anything, his mount bounds over the gate. Into the horde as he leaps off and lands to strike at several zombies, disappearing into the darkness beyond as the horde shambles after. Leaving me to think about all that just happened.
"H-hey Lucidio?" Rodigo asks.
"Y-yeah?"
"I take it back, I'm fine with nothing happening."
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James "Zamaina" Petrosky POV
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Racing through the horde of undead, hacking and slashing with my axes, I feel invigorated. But it isn't enough. Like a runner on a warm up jog, all this is doing is getting me pumped for more!
I need more! I need a challenge! I need a foe! I need prey!
[Dude! Chill!] Momonga calls in my head.
[I am chill!] I send back.
[You are literally laughing like some sort of sick clown!] He responds.
"Because I'm having fun!" I say as I cleave a zombie's head off. My axe sliding through like a knife through butter.
[Dude, don't make me bring up the time you hit on Bukubukuchagama]
That gets me to stop in sheer cringe.
[I was drunk! You can't keep holding that over me!] I transmit as I look back to glare at him.
Only to, see what he meant. In the evidence of, a literally slough of undead, with the lack of the un.
"Oh, um." I say awkwardly. "How long have we been here?"
"Five, minutes." Momonga says as he dismounts the terrified Hamsuke.
[You're lucky we can explain away the lightning as Naberal's magic.] Momonga messages.
[Lightning?] I ask.
[You were using Storm Stride] Momonga explains. [Are you alright?]
[Honestly?] I answer as we calmly walk forth. [I think the full moon is doing things to me.]
[We tested that though, you said it was like a strong urge and nothing more.] Momonga recalls.
[Yeah, but that was in a controlled environment without any combat, aggressors, or the scent of blood.] I explain.
[Oh, we'll need to investigate that later.] Momonga says.
[Oh most certainly.] I agree before cutting the line.
I'd talk more, but I smell it. The scent of the Swords of Darkness. Their blood. That black scripture traitor is nearby.
What was her name? Nigun knew it, it was some kind of fruit. Orange? Tangerine? Clementine? Citron?
Fuck it. Not like it matters. All she is, is prey.
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-10 minutes later-
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Clementine
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As someone, or something, made a racket by destroying a good portion of the undead. In a very flashy way too. She couldn't help but feel a bit of excitement.
New toys, new screams, fun times!
It doesn't take long for the old coots to gather themselves at the front while the boy churns out more magic. And with the boy having stopped screaming, she did as well. Hiding just in the shadows of the mausoleum's entrance. Eager to see who would be added to her armor.
A slight chill ran down her spine as she leaned on the wall. She felt like she was being watched. But a quick look behind showed no one was there.
She shrugged and turned back to oncoming adventurers.
And it doesn't take long for her excitement to reach new heights. A big man in black expensive armor! And what's better? A copper plate!
Clearly her newest victim was a rich kid playing hero. All decked out in the best gear daddy could buy. They always gave her the best screams.
"So, am I to believe you are the ones responsible for decimating part of my horde?" Kahjit prattles.
She tuned them out, not truly caring for what they had to say. Only ever really listening to every other word. Hoping to maybe catch something juicy she could use against them when it's her turn.
But still, that uneasy feeling of being watched was still there. Like a chill down her spine that refused to leave.
Her instincts never failed her before, but there was nothing here.
And that only set her on edge further.
"You're a fool to think you could challenge all of us on your own!" Kahjit sputtered, likely getting off on the sound of his own voice. "A measly duo of copper plates is nothing!"
"Well." The deep, noble voice of the man in armor rung out. "You may have been right, except for two points. We're nothing measly. And we're a trio."
Her suspicions confirmed. But before she could even wonder where the third was, she felt a hand grab the back of her neck and pull her back.
"Martial arts: Reinforce hide! Body strengthening!" She called out instinctively as she hit the floor of the tomb, just before hitting the edge of the stairs down further into the tomb.
Saved from the majority of the damage by her well honed instincts. She looked up to see the silhouette of a cloaked man, backlit by the moonlight.
"Well now!" She called with a smile as she stood back up. "Sneaking up on a lady like that? What kind of fiendish man are you?"
He says nothing. Merely standing in the path of the entrance as she regains her bearings. Before taking his first, casual step towards her.
"Ooh? Strong silent type?" She blustered. "Sorry to let you down sweetie, but I prefer my partners to be screamers."
"Funny." He says in a deep, rugged voice. "So do I."
All of the hairs on the back of her neck raised as his eyes glowed. A fierce, piercing blue color reminiscent of the lightning from earlier.
*Crack*
The same lightning from earlier reappeared. Coming from outside as the flash nearly blinded her. But the glowing of his eyes faded, making her wonder if she was just seeing things.
"Oh?" She grinned despite her rising sense of unease. "Then how about a little tit for tat? What's your name handsome?"
He once again said nothing. And the nagging sense of something being off got too strong for Clementine to ignore.
"Martial arts: evasion, greater evasion, flow acceleration, ability boost!" She called as she dashed to the side, intent on getting around him and putting a blade in his back.
"Grck!" Her blood runs cold in her veins as a hand clasped around her neck.
"Not bad." The man says as he looks to her. The moonlight lighting half his face as she heard the sounds of screaming coming from outside. "You're decently strong, comparatively."
Clementine felt her blood boil at the casual disregard of her strength. Years of abuse and strife got her to where she is. To have it called comparatively strong! She was leagues above everyone! The number of people better than her doesn't even exceed double digits!
"Sorry handsome!" She grits out as she takes the stiletto blade from her holster. "But choking ain't my thing!"
Her grin, which had grown before the blade even made purchase, quickly faded as she realized it hadn't sunk in. The pointed tip having been stopped at the man's eye, and slid away with a quick shake of his head.
"I take it back." He says as his voice gets deeper.
Clementine felt her blood once again run cold as she watch in horror, the stubble on the man's face grow. She was lifted off the ground as she felt his hand enlarge and elongate. The calloused hand around her neck grew rougher and more course by the second.
Bones creaked and cracked as she witnessed the terrifying sight of his face growing longer. His teeth stretching as his shoulders popped and clacked. Hair darkening to a pitch black as he grew taller, moment after agonizing moment.
It was then that she realized what she was facing.
A werewolf.
Fear pumped her blood faster and faster. Most monsters were stronger than humans. That was true. But none were as feared as werewolves and vampires. Vampires for their unnatural abilities and resistance to all forms of damage save silver and holy magics.
Werewolves, for their ability to lurk amongst the people. Stronger than ogres or even trolls. They hunted at night, preying on the lone huntsman and lost traveler.
And were known to steal away women for their dens. To sire their pups and feast on them when they were done with them.
"Y-y-you!" She shakes in unconsented fear. "What the hell is a werewolf doing, posing as an adventurer!"
It made no sense to her. Werewolves stayed away from cities and towns. Not become adventurers and mingle with those who would kill them!
"Having fun." He says with a snarl. His eyes glowing with bright patches of fur following suite. "Like you."
No! She was nothing like this creature! Her strength was earned. Not born of some unholy matrimony between a whore and a wild dog!
Rage and fear surged through her at the insinuation. And she jabbed her blade into the wolf's face. Again and again. Activating the flames and taking the second blade, she jabbed and added a bit of lightning to the flames.
But nothing happened.
"Pity." It snarled. "Just like everything in this pathetic place, you're nothing but a disappointment. At best I thought you a hunter."
"Fuck you!" She screams.
Nothing is happening! He's not attacked, but he won't let her go. Which only leads to one, horrifying conclusion in Clementine's mind.
"But you're nothing but a scavenging beast." He says before tossing her to the side, sending her tumbling down the stairs.
He intends to toy with her, before taking her back to his den and forcing himself on her! Her! The infamous killer of heroes and warriors! Reduced to an overgrown dog's breeding sow!
The mere thought makes her sick as she lands at the base of the steps on her hands and knees. Taking off, she races down the corridor of the mausoleum. She may not have the tools to harm a particularly strong werewolf right now, but she knows these tunnels better than the monster!
All she has to do, is lose him in the halls, and make her way out! Then she can escape!
Another minute of running and she looks behind her. Upon not seeing the beast, she slows down to conserve her strength. Not seeing the need to burn herself out before even getting out of the tomb. She slowly walks backwards from the way she was running. Expecting the beast to bound the corner any second.
Upon not seeing it, she turns around and immediately stops the creature in front of her. Having operated on pure reflex, she cries out in fear as the wolf grabs her by the throat and slams her against the wall.
"Gack!" She spit. The air in her lungs having been forced out by the rough slam.
"Pathetic." He sneers, before tearing the cloak off her body.
This is it! She'll be violated by the beast until she's forced to birth its litter and then fed to it! Dying in some cave where no one will know of her passing. Lesser than some common farmer who stepped on a rusty nail and couldn't afford the churches tax.
She kicked and punched as he sniffed her chest. And she pissed herself as his nose lowered to her crotch.
She closed her eyes as his other clawed hand tore away at her trophy armor. Rendering her naked and at his mercy. And she begged the gods she had long since forsaken that she was wrong. That this wasn't real!
No one deserved this!
"Hmm, at least I can give her their tags." The beast says.
Confused, Clementine opened her eyes to see the beast had pulled apart her armor. Holding in it's claws a few tags. And wholly uninterested in her now naked form.
It was almost insulting.
"Now, to deal with you." It growls as its claws tighten. "Remember how I said, I like to hear my partners, scream?"
Before she can register anything else, her gut is met with a knee. Causing her to spew out what little breath she had left in her body.
She's then tossed to the side, skidding across the floor of the tomb. The rough stonework digging into her skin as she desperately flails in an attempt to catch herself before she slams into another wall.
Her vision darkens for a brief moment as her face smacks the hard surface. But the pain of her nose breaking keeps her aware enough to try and crawl back up.
On to have her head slammed back down into the floor by the beast's foot. Her front teeth cracking and breaking at the force. The pain of her exposed nerves now insuring her consciousness.
"Come on." He says as he moves his foot to her back. "Scream."
He presses down, slowly at first. Eliciting strangled gasps from as she felt her ribs pressing inward. He lets up, and repeats the motion. Bouncing his foot on her until-
*Crack*
"Aaaagh!" She let out a high pitch scream of pain at the force of her rib cracking.
"There it is!" The beast laughs.
He lets up on the pressure, only to press back down harder.
*Crack*
"Aaaiiiighh!"
Again.
*Crack*
"Aaaah!"
Again and again. He applied pressure in different ways. Making sure to break everyone of her ribs. Squeezing every last bit of life out of her. Treating her like his own personal chew toy.
When her final rib cracked, puncturing her lung. He lets up. Lifting his foot to relieve any and all force from her.
Giving out a sigh of relief. He picks her up, and opens a portal.
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Bonus
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Ninya Veyron POV
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Waking up in the softest bed ever. I look around the brown and room. Wooden, with odd paneling on the windows. Ornate scrolls hanging on the walls depicting various inhuman creatures.
Sitting up, I realize the bed is more of a sleeping bag. Or, a mattress and a blanket set on the floor. Odd, but, I'm not one to judge others on their expenses.
"Why, what?" I mutter my confusion sleepily.
Noticing how cold it is, I try and hold the blanket tighter to myself. Only to realize it offers no warmth.
Not really understanding what's going on. I stand up, my adventurers' clothes still on me, just my staff and shoes missing.
"Guys!?" I call out after making sure my bindings were secure. "Peter!? Dyne!? Lukrut!?"
Hearing no response, I head to the door. And try to push it open. Only to struggle as it doesn't budge. I push again and look for a handle. But the only thing I can find is a divot in the wood.
Deciding I have nothing else going for me, I stick my hands into the divot and try to pull the door open.
*Krrrrr*
Only for the door to slide, instead of swing. Causing me to stumble a bit.
"What the?" I question as I pull the door.
*Krrr*
And push it back.
*Krrr*
What kind of door, slides into the wall? Or, along it? Doors open. Not, side?
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Tsukune Aono POV
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'This is, honestly adorable.' I think to myself as I stare at the sight from down the hall.
Just wait until I tell the others. My first ever fledgling, infatuated by the idea of a sliding door.
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A/N
Odin, is prideful. But he does have a sense of honor.
He wouldn't be upset that Zamaina beat him. He'd be upset if the one who beat him, didn't live up to a standard that he believes one who beat him should.
And yes, I'm taking inspiration from Assassin's Creed Valhalla.
God that game was so beautiful.
But yeah, this is another case of in game lore being real life now.
The flavor text of The Left Eye of Odin was
With the eyes being a gateway to the soul. Sacrificing his right eye to the world tree, Odin gained a greater view of the world around him. His left eye grew sharper, more precise. His horizons expanded. Here is that eye, containing the wisdom imbued into it from Odin's sacrifice.
The important part being, a gateway to the soul.
Zamaina is literally wearing telephone to Odin on his neck.
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Ask about Zamaina's build!
His Gear!
His Abilities!
ETC.!
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Leave a comment and tell me what you think!
Praise and constructive criticism only. I especially like when you guys comment on what you like. As I tend to add more of it and I'm open to suggestions.