Note: I do not own Fairy Tail and all rights go to Hiro Mashima. I only own the OC's that will appear.
Chapter 3: A Mercenary Captain's Fatal Folly
[Third Person POV]
The environmental destruction involved in the unexpected bout between Olivia and the berserker bull had drawn over attention in magnitudes. Miles and miles out, there were many adventurers trudging through the unforgiving terrain of Maul's Gorge, seeking their own fortuitous encounters in the presence of looming calamity. The Braveheart Mercenaries were among them, and they were far closer to the scene as the subject of their mission was directly involved.
They had finally come upon the scene of the wreckage, the towering clouds of black smoke intermixed with bright embers that flickered like stars in the night sky. It was a hellscape. Thousands of trees were ablaze, screaming in agony as their natural enemy consumed their entirety. The flames were not normal, either. The berserker bull and dragon-something's flames were of a supernatural quality, and so life could never begin anew in the ashes remaining when the flames finished devouring their meals.
The smell was potently harsh to enough of a degree that the men's nostrils were thoroughly clogged with discomfort. Each accidental inhale brought shocks to their senses as they emerged from a mass of trees spared from the destruction and halted at a safe distance from a deep and vast depression in the earth. As Hendrikson stepped away from the group and made his way over to that vast depression in the area, he grabbed a very long, hot stick and stuck it into the dirt below, watching as it sludges. Pools of water trickled from the mound of dirt he gathered, and he realized that this entire depression was once a body of water.
"This must be- I suppose this was where the subject of our mission was located, but…" Hendrikson halted. "Something big happened here."
"Well, isn't that obvious. Shit!" the leader of the mercenary group, who shall be named Thorin, scanned the perimeter with his blazing amber gaze. His grizzled, middle-aged skin wrinkled as his nose caught a whiff of something, and then he snapped his gaze toward the far right of them. Glancing at the towering plume of smoke in the distance, merely some thousands of yards away, he had long been aware of the horrifying flames in the distance. However, his sense of smell caught onto something.
"I can smell the demon bull of the west… Black Angus!" Thorin shouted in exasperation. "Some bastard got here before us and fought it! Some other strong mercenary group. I swear, they better be dead. They better be dead, or I'll kill'em!"
Watching as the group was reacting in their own manners, Hendrikson was aloof to it all. His expression was completely stony, and his eyes solemn. Or rather, he was suppressing a grimace brought on by an aching optical organ. His appearance wasn't entirely described, but over his right eye was an eyepatch, and under its fringes were the edges of a gnarly scar. Normally, he'd have thought little of it in the current situation with the demon bull, but he couldn't help but inwardly grimace at the throbbing coming from it.
O' just thinking about the implications of the mere existence of that eye elicited so many mixed emotions in Old Man Hendy's heart and soul that he was of the mind to scream to the sky and curse the gods. Or should he curse the devil for giving him this cursed eye?
This eye is what branded him a heretic in the eyes of his former church. He grew up in that church. That church was all he knew. It's moral doctrine, creed, and more. All of it was an aspect of his identity. Yet it all changed after a series of brutal mistakes that he didn't feel like disclosing just yet.
He sighed in a ghastly manner, as if exhausted from living, "All I wanted was to help… the church failed me, not the other way around…" he clenched his fists hard enough for it to vibrate, and then he let go.
"...we need to find Black Angus! Hurry the hell up, old bastard!"
Thorin's admonishing roar startled Hendrickson out of his troubled musings, and he glared over at the leader as the other men departed for the direction of the demon bull. Looking on, he noticed a long trail of destruction framed by walls of fire. He saw a burst of magic as the fire was tamed and blown away by the men, "You surely don't need my help to deal with it!"
"What the fuck else do you plan to do then?" Thorn snapped back, snarling at Hendrickson. "You wanted to be on this mission, so see it through!"
Hot anger appeared in Hendrickson's eyes, "I know that! But I have something else I need to look at right now. It—!"
"Oh, damn it! Whatever. If you die, it's on you!" Thorn stormed off.
"Hot head…" Hendrickson grunted and looked to the other side of the depression that was once a lake. The mass of trees over there were largely spared of the demolition of forces wrought by the demon bull and whatever or whoever engaged it in battle. He scanned the depression again and cringed at the sight of fleshly remnants of monsters. He was aware of the presence of hundreds of sizable creatures that were bloodthirsty enough to bathe in blood in this area. Many rumors had been circulating.
He applied his intent to his special eye and peeled off the patch. He flinched at the pain of peeling it off, thick moisture clinging between the flesh and the patch like melted cheese. It was a gagging sight. The flesh was red and damaged, his pores red with bloody dots. Angry veins, thick and gnarled, bulge around the socket, pulsating faintly. The sclera was an unnatural, molten black, swirling faintly with crimson wisps of sinister power with similar-colored concentric circles around the iris which was jagged and shaped like a five-tipped red star.
'Every time I open this eye- it… intrigues me so…' Hendrickson scanned the depression intuitively. It was as if he was taking a brief, subtle glimpse into the past.
Flashes of imagery appeared to Hendrickson's attention.
In his mind's eye, he saw utter carnage.
A surging lake, intermixed with blood and gore, coagulated masses of it.
He would have hurled had he been there.
A blur of motion raced across the lake, reaping the lives of innumerable, red-eyed monsters with a single blade of water. A mass of dark violet hair danced a fatal dance. Wherever she moved, corpses appeared.
Black Angus was a hulking mass of herculean fury. It made the lake erupted whenever it charged the human figure that Hendrickson realized was a... girl?
A girl.
A teenage girl.
Right before the girl was blown skyward by Black Angus' heat attack, Hendrickson was forced out of the past by a throbbing pain in his right eye. He cried out and staggered. He palmed it in a caressing manner. He was afraid to lose his eye.
He quickly moved to cover it with the patch, but his arm froze. He stiffened again.
Glancing ahead of him once again to the line of trees on the other side, he noticed something different. With his still-activated cursed eye, he saw faint wisps of crimson energy trailing off between the trees to some unknown source.
From the sensation he picked up, it was familiar enough to make him scramble.
"Oh, oh gods!" Hendrickson clasped his palms together in prayer, but a bolt of crimson lightning struck down from the heavens, smiting him into the earth. The sky rumbled angrily, and Hendrickson was singed.
'I should have known not to pray. The gods have forsaken me eight years ago,' Hendrickson whimpered and staggered to his feet.
"A human girl fought that demonic beast?" Hendrickson found it to be ridiculous and so, so hard to believe. Never in his life had he seen a child cause such a ruckus. She was completely superhuman. She'd eradicate this entire group of mercenaries if they crossed her path in a hostile fashion. What a little monster.
He only saw brief glimpses, but with this cursed eye, he felt the sheer power streaming from the girl's body.
It was immense.
There were only few occasions where he happened upon children being this unreasonably powerful. One of them joined the guild named Diabolos, a very unorthodox and problematic dragon slayer guild. Their guild master was terrifying.
The other was the leader of the Dawnclaw Mercenaries.
As for the rest, he had no clue where they went or if they were still alive.
"That girl is probably dead. No way she survived that attack..." he stopped thinking too much about the girl and made his way to the source of what drew his cursed eye. Shuffling through dense vegetation and glancing at a toppled line of trees leading further ahead, he finally emerged on the other side.
He saw a tablet.
As the Braveheart Mercenaries boldly tore through the fiery scape, the combination of their magic and the dwindling fuel resulted in the gradual ebbing of the horrific flames. Noxious smoke still remained, permeating the land and air. The mercenaries prevented the inhalation of the hazardous elements with thick cloth wrapped around their necks and faces.
It was still hot and sweat made their clothes cling to their bodies.
Looking at the literal hot mess of nature around him, Thorin felt just as hot on the inside. He absolutely loathed this scenario.
The infamous Black Angus!
That demonic beast is among many legendary monsters in Maul's Gorge. All S-rated at the minimum. With their indomitable strength, they rule over territories that could be as vast as highly developed cities. They can lord over countless lesser monsters and make experienced S-rated mages suffer massive losses if they manage to survive an encounter.
To ensure the successful eradication or subjugation of such beasts, at least three S-rated adventurers are required. If not, then a squad of at least six highly skilled A-rated adventurers.
The Braveheart Mercenaries were among many groups with skilled A-class adventurers. No matter how dangerous Black Angus was it was consistently registered as a lower S-rated monster, only a threat to smaller cities.
They could totally handle it.
"There it is! Oh, shit! Look at that wreckage!"
"It was like a massive hell storm tore through this place!"
"So hot!"
Thorin was snapped back into reality and cast his smoldering gaze on the colossal, absolutely gargantuan depression far ahead of his team. Unlike the one where they left Hendrickson, this one was a smoldering pit. There wasn't a lick of moisture aside from the boiling blood that remained of the deceased demon bull.
His heart stopped when he saw Black Angus' corpse. It was so... so tragic.
Half its body was a charred husk, while the other side had melted flesh and spilled organ matter. Its entrails were sizzling with steam, and some veins popped like balloons. Drool dripped from its black lips, the ghost of a groan echoing in his ears despite the distance. It felt like a sword was thrust into his heart and twisted.
Their quarry... their claim to power.
"...no..." Thorin threw his hands up and palmed both sides of his face in anguish. This wasn't because Black Angus was dead. It was merely because he wasn't the one to kill it!
Everyone looked at their leader with mixed emotions. Many felt anger as well, but others felt relief.
Their leader was powerful, undoubtedly so. But facing off against Black Angus would have killed some of them. Cowards could be found among many adventurers, which is why so many don't exist as an entity for longer than five years.
The masked man in a neon green shirt was silent, but the sockets flashed a brief, ominous green. He clasped his hands behind his back and took a step forward into Thorin's view, drawing the latter's attention.
"What... is it?" Thorin asked, downtrodden and incensed.
An ear-grating rasp passed through the teeth of the man's skull mask, signifying the possible decrepit state of his lungs, "You should get that old man. He can get to the bottom of this."
"Hendrickson? That annoying old fuck?" Thorin grunted in agitation, but one stare from the masked man made him go silent.
"I find your constant hostile language with him to be stupid. Do you know a thing about that old man aside from his former status as a 'somewhat skilled' freelance adventurer?" inquired the masked man with the faintest hint of derision. Suddenly, he subtly craned his head and looked behind Thorin, his eyes gleaming coldly.
"What's so special about him?" a random man chimed in, and many other men voiced their own confusion.
Thorin remained silent, his eyes turning solemn, "No, I don't know everything."
"What do you know?" the masked man pressed smoothly.
"Some rumors about him. They say he has some cursed powers or something..." Thorin mentioned, but then he frowned. "I don't see how that would help us."
"All you need to know is that he has the capacity to curse you all to hell," the masked man warned them before turning to face the corpse of Black Angus.
His response wasn't well received by the mercenaries, let alone Thorin.
But before they could voice their complaints, Hendrickson rushed into sight with his cursed eye covered by the patch. He ignored everyone's startled exclamations and brushed off Thorin's rude inquiries to what he was doing. He lazily locked eyes with the masked man as he made his way into the charred depression. Sliding down and creating dust clouds, he rushed up to Black Angus' corpse and threw his hands forward.
"What the hell he up to?" Thorin was oddly perplexed. He remembered the masked man's statements from earlier and walked into the depression, watching intently. Every other man followed suit, and the masked man watched on with intrigue.
A burst of ominous magic sprang up from the old man's figure, spiraling into the air as a short pillar of black-crimson light that made the souls of the Braveheart Mercenaries tremble in fright.
Their minds suddenly froze, their expressions twisted into agony. They all collapsed, and even the masked man struggled to stay on his feet.
The ominous power from Hendrickson had attacked their minds, forcing them to perceive a reality they weren't privy to before.
A girl was fighting Black Angus, trading blow for blow with the creature despite getting knocked back and suppressed.
She stayed strong, even when blown into that towering rock pillar. She was a tank.
With a vicious roar, she used her claws to tear into its hide and blast off its leg.
As Black Angus managed to get back onto its hooves, the scene suddenly changed.
The colossal, charred depression appeared with Black Angus' corpse lying inside.
By now, Hendrickson had stopped using his powers and regarded his 'comrades', especially Thorin, with a mocking grin. He couldn't help but laugh at their misfortune, "What's wrong? Couldn't handle a little mind fuck?"
He then looked at the masked man who remained on his feet and silent, "And you, you're a lot stronger in the mind than Thorin. As expected of a member of the Dawnclaw Mercenaries. Even their weakest members possess immense mental fortitude irrespective of personal strength."
"Evil Eye Hendrickson..." the masked man growled, clearly infuriated with what he had experienced. "You did that on purpose."
"Yup."
"Why do you travel with these weaklings? The Dawnclaw Mercenaries is a far greater choice," the masked man suppressed his anger and suddenly extended an olive branch.
"That's a nice offer, whoever you are," Hendrickson replied lazily. "You know, now's not the time to dwell on my identity. I thought that girl died, but she actually survived. I'd like to take a look at her. Do you know who she could be? She can't be any older than sixteen."
"Hendrickson, you're a fucking bastard! What was that?!" Thorin woke up first, storming toward the old man with his face a mask of smoldering fury. His magic bolstered his already hulking physical form, creating a subtle pressure field around him.
Hendrickson frowned, "I gave you a glimpse into what I could do. You dare to antagonize me right now? Don't you have a person to catch now that she's responsible for Black Angus' death?"
Thorin glared directly into Hendrickson's eyes for a good ten seconds before replying hotly, "I've dealt with cursed bastards before. All kinds of trickery. They piss me off the most."
"..." Hendrickson didn't really care.
Thorin snorted, "You're right. That girl... she's strong. But she's surely weak now."
"Everyone, let's fucking go!" In a single, magically enhanced bound, Thorin leaped over ten meters and reached the other side of the depression before stalking off into the forest.
Hendrickson and the masked man remained where they were as the group left.
"I know the power you wield," the masked man said. "It's not some random curse power. It's the real deal. You should really consider joining us, Evil Eye-"
"I'm considering it," Hendrickson cut him off. "But I found something far more interesting to devote my time to for the next long while. Why don't you be patient?"
[First Person POV]
I jolted awake, heart pounding uncontrollably. The palpitations were erratic enough to make my nerves tremble. I had fallen asleep before I knew it.
"Oh..." I fell over and rested my head against the ground, taking in a heavy breath. Vertigo had assailed me once again!
"What... what did I do to deserve this punishment? Which of the gods did I slander? I really, really hate this..." I grumbled and rolled over to stare at the roof of the cave I crawled into some unknown hours ago. My body was still so weak. My right thigh felt numb now. I felt a spike of fear for my leg. It might end up dying on me!
"I'm such a fool... I should have avoided reckless fighting."
I forced myself into a sitting posture, only to topple over again as the vertigo slammed into my head. I groaned and powered through the discomfort. My leg was more important than my dizziness. Looking at my thigh, a single hand wave caused the ice that was encasing it to melt away.
"Freaking coward, ambushing me like that..." The sight of the exposed wound on my thigh made me fume. If there was one thing to be proud of about my body, it was that I had thick thighs coiling with muscle. The puncture wounds of that not-dragon's teeth were deep, but they failed to come close to bone. Had my legs been thinner, my thigh bone probably would have snapped.
A gentle application of healing magic purged the nastiness of the wounds and accelerated blood clotting. Though my leg wouldn't heal anytime soon, the wounds would close soon enough, and I'll have the strength to be mobile again. I turned my mind inward and touched my pool of magic.
"Thank Mother Selene! I have a ton of magic left!" I was feeling some semblance of giddiness again. Despite how hard I exerted myself against that berserker bull, my pool of magic didn't seem to dwindle much. Being a not-human creature is so convenient!
But it sucked at the same time!
My headache was getting immensely annoying.
I lied down and closed my eyes.
They snapped open, full of irritation and subtle worry.
"Twenty men; three are a bit strong..." I had instantly caught not only a whiff of humans approaching but heard their voices. They weren't loud, merely hushed. And based on the emotions I was smelling; they were hostile and in hunting mode.
"Why... why that direction...?" What bad luck! They just had to be coming from the direction I fought that monster. All trails lead to this cave!
Are they hunting for me? Or not?
Should I hide, or not?
Absolutely not, I didn't train you to be a coward!
"Ah...!" Not a good time for memories to rare their beautiful heads, even if they're rude. They just pop up anytime they fu- freaking feel like it. Ignoring that masculine, bestial voice, I got to my feet and squinted through the cave entrance, peering at the distant line of trees that not-dragon appeared from mere hours ago. It was still nighttime, and I finally noticed that the distant infernos had died out.
Three men of varying ages and appearances emerged first. A hulking man with a mean expression and a brutish melee weapon. A creepy man with a skull mask and a bright green shirt, and an elderly man in rugged clothing and a... staff.
I looked sharply at the old man, feeling a threat from him. Just the smell he radiated was foul- no, disgusting. I hated him immediately. The same goes for the masked man, he sucks too.
Before I knew it, my eyes turned to slits for the umpteenth time and I felt like killing something.
[Third Person POV]
Hendrickson suddenly stopped, and so did the skull-masked man.
Even Thorin halted, and the seventeen other men followed suit.
A sharp, threatening chill appeared out of nowhere. So sudden was it that it might as well have been a flashbang. A cold sensation attacked most of the men, causing them to shiver.
"Something's here..." Thorin warned, feeling a bit cold suddenly. "Dangerous."
However, Hendrickson and the masked man were sweating cold bullets.
While the threatening intent appeared to have no target and seemed evenly distributed throughout the area, it had gathered heavily on them. With Hendrickson's enhanced perception with his cursed eye, he could see a reddish film of pressure coating their bodies. The denser the red, the more the threatening intent was concentrated on them.
He noticed that the coating around him was the darkest. The masked man was also pretty dark. To his annoyance, Thorin and his men were largely spared.
His left eye widened a smidgen when he saw a figure emerge from a cave a hundred yards on the other side of the river. The area was silent now, filled only with the sound of the gushing river. The figure was the same girl he saw in his visions of the recent past. She was surely injured, he could see that. But the look in her eyes and the ambient aura around her spoke of hazardous strength and desire to kill him!
"It's the girl! It's her! It's actually her!" a man cried out.
Thorin zeroed in on her immediately and grinned dangerously, "Shame she's a looker! My ax needs blood!"
He charged immediately, bounding across the river and attacking the girl first.
"Get her, boss!"
"Show her the power of the Braveheart Mercenaries!"
"Hurrah! Let's go!"
The boisterous cries of the seventeen men rang incessantly in the girl's ears. She scowled, glaring balefully at all of them before locking eyes with the oncoming Thorin.
"What did I do to you?" The girl said aloud for Thorin to hear.
"You stole my kill! Black Angus!" Thorin roared out and came upon the girl, towering over her like a titan and bringing his ax down upon her in a single cleaving motion. A single, silver streak of light sprang out in the blink of an eye, but the blade struck only the earth.
"I missed?" Thorin was startled. "Where is she-"
"So, you're an arrogant idiot who thinks he owns the world?" Those words rang out right beside him as the girl sat on his shoulder, her sizable legs pressing harshly against his ears. Thorin was stunned, uncomfortable, and agitated.
"Get the fuck off!" Thorin used his free hand to grab at her leg, but she applied strength to her legs and sent a shock of pain through his skull. He grunted and gripped her leg, trying to pull it off but it wouldn't fucking budge!
A single elbow strike from above made him shake and stagger, and a twisting motion of her hips nearly broke his neck. Fortunately, he was superhuman. But it still hurt!
"Tough neck," the girl commented and continued dropping elbows on his temple, generating impacts that would knock out any lesser man. Like a storm of lightning, the elbows plowed into his temple with enough force to leave behind actual dents and cracks. His brain scrambled and his body slackened.
"No... get the fuck off! OFF! NOW!" Thorin roared in utter fury, his magical power exploding and making the surroundings break apart. The ground below him was scattered into debris, and before he could grab her again, she gracefully disembarked from his massive body and leaped ten yards away.
The girl stuck out a hand, and the river nearby shifted.
Meanwhile, dense golden magic coiled around Thorin's body like serpents, and he gripped his ax with crushing strength. He glowered at the girl and hissed, "You'll die for that! RAGH!"
He exploded into movement, shooting toward her like a rocket and swinging his ax toward her neck in a manner of seconds.
Shing!
A streak of icy blue struck the ax, knocking it above the girl's head. In her hand was an ax that looked just like Thorin's, but it was made of ice, very dense ice. In the same instant she deflected his initial attack, she slammed the blade-edge of the ax into his ax-wielding arm, slicing it in half.
"GAH!" Thorin howled in agony and shock, but a spinning kick to the jaw brutally knocked him into the darkness of the cave.
"..." The girl grimaced after that and glanced at Thorin's ax that was left suspended in the air. With a hand wave, ice gathered around it. Ensnared in her control, she hurled the ax over the river toward Hendrickson!
"Oh shit!" Hendrickson cried out and moved to dodge. The air near him was displaced as a sharp, crisp sound shot by. The sound of a tree splitting down the middle rang harshly in his ears.
Everything happened way too quickly. It took only ten seconds for the girl to pummel Thorin and nearly kill Hendrickson. The seventeen other men of the Braveheart Mercenaries were stunned silly, and then they scattered like flies.
The river surged, and tendrils shot out, lashing at the men and knocking them about like bowling balls. Skin was lashed, bones were broken, and men cried like babies.
Right when the girl was about to continue, Hendrickson cried out, "Stop it! Stop it already, girl! Please!"
The girl stopped and glared coldly at Hendrickson, "What do you people want? I'm sure you're aware of what a cornered beast can do."
"Yeah, yeah. I-I can see that!" Hendrickson smiled wryly, but he was reeling from his near-death experience. He glanced jealously at the skull-masked man's direction... only to see him missing.
Missing...
"Bastard. Bastard! What a complete BASTARD! HE FLED DURING THE CHAOS!" Hendrickson was actually furious.
"Hey, stinky old man. Look at me. Tell me, are you mad because of the monster I fought?" The girl asked hotly.
"Well, I'm not the one who's mad. That man you wasted earlier is the one who's mad. You're responsible for defeating the monster his team set out to take down. He's like that," Hendrickson replied.
"How petty," the girl curled her lips in disdain.
"PETTY?!" Thorin's voice boomed from afar as he sprang into sight, completely maddened. His face was bloodied, and teeth were missing. Most of his right arm was reduced to a stump.
The girl glared back at him, "Yes, and what a way to lose an arm. You're an idiot."
Thorin's eyes were red with madness, and his aura suddenly changed. Hendrickson was alarmed, and threw his hand forward, "Girl, back away! His mad! Really mad!"
"..." The girl ignored him in favor of snarling at Thorin. He also smells rank now. An odor of malevolence and corruption wafted from him. "He stinks just like you, old man. I tried to kill you, but this idiot really deserves to die now."
Before Hendrickson could make any moves, Thorin and the girl rushed each other. Ablaze in a familiar energy of corruption, Thorin's right arm grew back, and he hurled a devastating punch toward the girl who met his fist head on with her own that was wreathed in frigid and icy winds.
Crack!
Thorin's fist shattered and so was his arm. Blood filled the air as the girl's leg drove upward, clocking the maddened man in the jaw once again and thoroughly breaking it. His head shot up; neck broken as well. The girl grabbed his broken arm and yanked him to the ground before summoning a sword of ice and plunging it into his skull.
Shlick!
His head erupted into blood and gore, and Hendrickson shrieked back at the sound of bones breaking and tearing flesh.
"She's not human! She's not fucking human! She's a monster! Oh gods, she's a demon!" Hendrickson took several steps back, taking fleeting glances at the seventeen men who were reduced to groaning sacks of flesh. They were all alive, and those that were awake were equally terrified of the monster they tried to punish earlier.
"Now... hah..." the girl glanced toward Hendrickson. "Where were we?"
- End of Chapter -