It was a nice and cloudless day out in Buranikka. As if there had been no chase across half the city the night before. A crowd of countless souls of all races flew through numerous streets; some walked, some ran, and some cat-boy shilled people to buy a newspaper. Something about disturbances at the eastern Jioral.
And there he was, just another shadow, strolling through the stone roads. Armed with a set of poisoned throwing knives and divine power over life and death, the man got ready to face any challenge. Raging bulls weren’t that powerful, and Keyaruga could easily dispatch their whole squad. Provided he lacked any vulnerable deadweight to stall him, of course. Like at the moment.
The lad eventually got close to the inn, where he intended to stay for a while. At the moment, it was… in a pretty workable state, actually. People came and went, and a massive hole had been steadily plugged by the local masons. It looked so normal, that none could tell a bunch of people died in rikish gi’s ambush. At least, nobody cared. A bunch of ogres and fox-eared women in orange vests patrolled the area, and Tidir, the blue-feathered innkeeper, and presumably something more, himself, guarded the building.
Well then, let’s have a look. And… of course my jade eye can’t read him. Another godling? I wonder how the hell could Fir make someone like this owe him? Either way, I can’t go back right now. First, I need those bulls to make amends. Until then, I must sacrifice my comfort and sentiments.
As the man reflected on his predicament, he managed to spot an agent. Some dark-skinned youngster with black dog ears stood on the nearest roof to the inn. He swept his gaze through the street before fleeing to the alleys.
Now that’s interesting. I’ll have to cut the tail on my way back. Only then will I be able to buy some treats and blankets for my girls, the man thought, as his legs drove him away from the god-possessed inn. It’s not like the sheets for camping were bad or anything, but Freia, for example, needed something warm and soft for her healthy sleep.
"Gods, what a hustle." The man mumbled, turning his back toward the crowded area.
As the lad marched through the streets, he noticed the black dog spy. Through walls, right to his hideout, which the hero would definitely visit eventually. But even as one distraction saw itself out, another appeared. Much more discreet and stealthy than the last, yet Keyaruga felt their presence.
"Maybe, I should look for some gorgeous scarfs? Or…"
While thinking aloud, the lad found himself walking into a small, cozy café. A few words with the mistress, a few glances through the window, and the lad sat on a chair with his foot resting on the knee.
I failed. I should’ve killed them on the spot and not let those mad cows chase us on their terms. Although I do think we’d have to finish them if not for the local militia’s involvement. That did shoo them away, but I’ll be damned if I think that put an end to Eve’s hardships. Now this… Kailia is waiting for a moment to ambush me here. A woman, a golden leopard. Looks promising. Go ahead, then, sweetie.
…
"Your biscuit and black wine." The girl with cat ears and nose spoke, bringing a plate of a round beige cake and a cup of a dark, steaming liquid. A drink imported from beyond the sea was sold in the local markets along with other exotic spices. Without further delay, he made the first bite.
"M-m, that’s nice. May I wonder what kind of milk you used for it? You know, I’m something of a baker myself, so…"
"Thank you. Our suppliers are from Balyria. If you want to know more, you should speak to my husband. He’s our chef here." The charming kitty politely smiled, drawing an abstract line between her and the customer. As for the milk, it turned out they bought it from raging bulls. After all, not all of them were known as brutal bounty hunters; a lot were farmers and cattlemen. The girl spoke about it with an accent that betrayed the moon cats' heritage from the west. "I have a good memory for faces, but you don’t seem familiar."
"Second day in the town."
And I’m already neck-deep in shit. Not the first time, nor the last.
"I see. Be careful out here; there have been a lot of bad rumors lately. And last night there was a fuss in the middle of Buranikka. Heard, a few militants died. That would never happen with our former me-ua." She admonished, giving Keyaruga a hint toward her true age. Presumably, at least forty.
"I’ll bear it in mind. Would you mind if I asked, how many years has your café been here? It can’t be that you’ve actually…"
"Me? No-no, I’ve just heard of him in my early travels before I settled here with Toorn." As the lady spoke, the healer gave a quick glance toward the family portrait. The wife was one of the ma-zok, while the husband, a tall man who was cooking a few more cakes at the moment — a human. Whatever they faced to be together, Norn’s punitive campaign would be the peak of it… A sad turn of events.
"This thing… is pretty good." Keyaruga gave his impression of the black wine. "Bitter, but really complements the sweetness of your pastries. Could you make me a few more cakes down the road? I have people I’d like to share them with."
"Of course, just give us a moment."
And so, the man was left alone in the empty hall. Nothing but the sounds of the city beyond the windows and the distant talk in tarenago between the mistress and her spouse distracted him from reflection. The cold steel pressed against his throat as well.
"I’ve been wondering if my outing proves futile. It's nice to know I’ve been wrong here. Now, what kind of business do you have with me?" The hero wondered, appraising the weapon of a cloaked female figure, who sneaked like a ghost behind his back. She held something reminiscent of a tiger's claw. The exotic dagger’s handle ended with a hole for a thumb.
"Turnen — nado kru (if you move, I’ll slit your throat)." The assassin didn’t bother to answer in Phasian. Or, she just knew nothing about that language. Either way, the hero’s attention was more drawn to her slim tail than the sharp blade.
"Ugh, how nice… Nanua hish (what do you want)?" The man asked with a wide grin on his face. Languages, cultures, customs, superstitions — so many things differed across the world, but not the tongue of violence and threats.
"Iblis-maran wor hanjanti (release lady Iblis)" Although her pronunciation felt off, Keyaruga couldn’t mistake the intent. What made it amusing was the fact that the leopard woman called Eve by the name of the vilest devil in Faran’s mythology. Most likely, a coincidence due to a mispronunciation.
"Nanu kade orun wor midunara (how did you find us)?" The man asked, feeling a natural arousal. He was fine with having his own neck endangered, so much so that the red-eyed lad saw it as some sort of foreplay. He had a pretty wild guess that Kailia was supposed to give Eve a hand, save her from raging bulls, and set her up on the path towards the queendom. But…
"Nia. Sartha, Iblis-maran wor haniate, nirathu (Smell. Now, release lady Eve and I will spare you)." ...her next phrase changed it all.
A word, a single verb at the end of the statement thundered with pain and shock. The mirth was gone; it was only nervous twitching that grabbed hold of the man’s right eye. His focus slipped; the hero felt nauseous, even hallucinating. Only if it took a moment, he had to relieve the most tragic moment from the first world. Then…
"Fetha (no)." With a loud creak of his teeth, Keyaruga grabbed the woman’s hand. So fast, so precise, that even the assassin got bewildered — the healer got her right hand suspended with no chance of moving even by a centimeter.
"Ghh!.." Kailia revealed another knife, previously hidden in her left arm. Without a swing, she pointed the edge into the man’s shoulder. And yet… without any seeming resistance, the healer stuck the fangy blade right into his neck. That didn’t stop the onslaught, and a fountain of blood rushed onto the sweets, and even more so, as he dragged the blade by his throat. Only when the wound reached another side did the man turn back toward the destroyer of his life. He… smiled.
"G-ga… Gantharma (Monster)…" The woman’s legs trembled; she slouched as the madman covered his injury, making it close. Not even a scar remained under the chin, let alone the pierced wound in the shoulder. And his face… Nothing but a mindless grin and bloodstains all over the place. Kailia was torn between the wish to flee and fight. In the end, just for a little bit… the latter prevailed.
With a tight grip on her curved knives, the assassin aimed her blades toward Keyaruga’s tendrils. Shoulders, knees, armpits — her numerous blows were swift, technique made up for the lack of high level. And yet, the man spared nothing but a few elusive moves, as if dancing around the empty wooden chairs. No blow reached his flesh, not even the blood-soaked clothes. But the foe never stalled, especially when the hero got pushed toward the wall. It wouldn't be long before the blade slashed through the lad's temple. And yet…
"STOP IT AT ONCE!!!" Before it happened, a slim, tall, balding man snarled at them. And to make his statement count, he held a bow, too large for his stature, with a pulled bowstring, ready to shoot at the troublemakers, while his wife stood beside him with a crossbow. That married couple made quite a formidable duo, but would that be enough?
"I… will… n…" Before the dark-haired lad could finish, the wall shattered. The mere wood and glass were nothing compared to the colossal figure with rags all over the body. It raised a cloud of dust. And when it settled, everyone saw the intruder. The raging bull, unmistakably, and as the cloth fell off of him upon the impact, everyone in the room saw his rotting sewn wounds.
"RA-A-A-A-A-A!!!" With a bestial roar, the monster rushed toward Keyaruga. The latter recognized the foe; previously, the lad cut his throat and then flayed the stubborn goon. The horned gunk shouldn’t have survived that, and he didn’t. What came for the hero was an undead husk, driven by dark magic and residual animosity toward its murderer.
Keyaruga dashed sideways as the gargantuan battleaxe made a wide dent in the floor. Kailia leaped backward, and the married couple, while profoundly swearing, began shooting the monster. The healer, although still trapped in a cage of conflicting emotions, took out a few throwing knives before pointing them into the lifeless black-ish eyes. Metal struck true, as did three arrows and a crossbow bolt that had become lodged in the mauled head.
Would that stop the living corpse from causing further mayhem? Obviously, no. The reanimated body continued to throw wide swings in every direction it could, despite the fact that it had lost all sense of direction. And so, the hero dodged another mindless blow just to deliver the final touch on the rotting corpse. Or… a punch right through the ribcage, making his way toward the heart. Then, a single purple spark from the inside heralded the end of the bull, as his limbs fell off along with heavy chunks of sticky, stinking blood.
"It’s… I’ll make up for the destruction. Later…" The man nearly whispered. His mind was in a haze, but that didn’t prevent him from taking a chunk of the carcass’ horn to track down the shamans who revived it. Still, someone else used a moment of the healer’s confusion to flee. Unfortunately for her, Keyaruga was just as filled with focused hatred as he was with crippling pain.
"Hey, wai-!.. Kakrta (shit)." The lean baker spat on the floor, while his wife just silently and slowly shook her head, while the dark-haired lad lunged outside as if he were a rock in a slingshot.
…
He ran. Streets, alleys, narrow paths between the buildings. He sprinted. Between humans, ma-zok kin, quite a few demi-humans appeared and faded in his blurry eyesight. For what it's worth, Keyaruga tried not to bump into them, but since he looked more like a mad hound, sometimes even using his arms for propelling, that was quite a task at hand.
This path… She does to Eve! Freia, Setsuna… No… I won’t allow you, bitch! Not again!
She ran. Her step was graceful and agile, but Kailia didn’t enjoy the limitless stamina her pursuer had. She was terrified. Despite her every attempt to cut the tail, the monster in human form never stalled or lost her track. To her, Keyaruga was just another thug who kidnapped the queen-to-be. A psychotic and unstable abomination with some immortality magic. A single demi-human, no matter how skilled, just couldn’t take on such a threat. What she could do, though, was track down his captive and flee from Buranikka altogether. Kailia’s dark robes were all sweaty inside, her lungs began to burn, and her teeth clattered with fear. For herself, and for what that beast would do if he caught up with her… What he would do to the defenseless young girl, if left to his own devices. House after house, road after road, it all turned to a bleak mess, a hunting ground for an invulnerable demon. The best the woman could do against that apex predator…
"A-A-AH!!!" Right on the verge of dirty slums, with only a few hundred meters remaining to her goal, Keyaruga emerged from above, stomping the woman into the ground. Keyaruga, covered in blood and overcome by normally suppressed ferocity, looked anything but human. "Tu n…"
"Shut… the fuck up." The deranged hero growled, clasping Kailia’s neck. Then he raised her above the ground, not even caring about her attempts to cut his arms. After all, with stone scales covering the skin, such struggles looked quite amusing to watch. "Heh… No blue flame that time, bitch?"
"Nan-! U-ugh!.." Whatever confusion Kailia tried expressing, her voice faded after Keyaruga punched her in the chest. The woman gruesomely threw up before losing her consciousness.
…
Fear. Nausea. Pain from the light itself. Kailia, a demi-human from the people of the golden leopards, was dragged on her captor's shoulder. Everything was in a haze for her, like a dream. Or rather a nightmare with no chance to wake up. She saw a road, the ground, and a wooden floor. How someone’s innards painted it in red. The assassin had taken dozens of lives, working on countless people, but she never saw so much blood in a single day.
After what seemed like an eternity, Keyaruga rudely dropped his bounty and started undressing her.
"Let’s see, no wings. Obviously. Eve doesn’t know her. Hmm, three more knives? I’ll take it? A curvy dagger? No, the balance is off, can’t throw it. And I can’t even sell it. Hmm…"
And so he proceeded, taking away any weapons or concealed tools of murder and escape, leaving nothing on the bare body, before tying Kailia’s hands and feet with scraps from her own cloak. Throughout that time, the woman remained, although barely, aware of her embarrassing predicament.
"Now, let’s see what you’re hiding from me?"
And so, Keyaruga put his palm on the assassin’s forehead. One green spark, and the divine power rushed into her very being. Keyaruga saw it all — the orphanage she was raised in, the cruelty of the caretakers, how they turned the entire place into a brothel, how the blonde girl cut their throats in their sleep. So much pain, so many responsibilities for her brethren, so much spilled blood…
And that meant nothing for the man. He just couldn’t sympathize with the killer of his Norn. Of their unborn child. All he needed was a name. And the chosen of Panakea got it — Snor, the chieftain of snow leopards, hired that blade to deliver him the kokuyoku scion, preferably in one piece.
"Haa… I see how it is." The lad mumbled with a sign of relief. Although the list of mercs wouldn’t be limited to only this one, he was glad to face his old foe once again. "Stop pretending you’re asleep, my fair Kailia. Oh, don’t give me that look. I know you’re more than capable of understanding me."
"A… u…" The woman attempted to form an answer, but instead of words, she managed to produce only a pitiful wheezing. She tried again, and again, and again, but the result remained the same.
"Are you scared? You should be." The blood-soaked monster in human form voraciously grinned, standing tall above the defenseless woman. "I saw you blow up the love of my life before my eyes. What? Surprised? Of course, you’ve already killed pregnant women. But no, you can’t remember what happens in the future. I, on the other hand, will never forget. You took my child, my only chance of getting… something in that ruined life. But I don’t blame you. I would even set you free… But you came to take away my Eve!"
"…?…" Kailia, although completely disarmed, gave her captor a daringly aggressive look.
"You’re just a mercenary…" Keyaruga kneeled near the woman to take her by the chin. "…and I can do whatever I want with you." Having said that, the lad helped himself with a vulgar and obscene act. He grabbed Kailia’s head, violently opened her eyelids and licked her trembling right eye. Then, he tossed her on the back. "You and I are gonna have so much fun together!"
The man, driven now with desire, licked his lips. With all the signs of gore on his clothes and neck, that gesture alone made the woman shiver in fear. As he dropped the shirt, her trembling arms made every attempt to free themselves from the bonds. While the mad human took off his pants, the golden leopard finally set her limbs free. It was the only bright part of it. And brief. After all, barely had she stood up to run away, Keyaruga pushed her back down to the floor. He only needed one hand, while the other stroked his penis just to make it erect. Even if Kailia was one of the most gorgeous women he had ever met, that barely changed the past.
"Impatient, are we?" The man sneered, groping the woman’s springy breasts. They looked so alluring, so mature, that the lad couldn’t help but lick the nipples. Even if his current toy desperately kicked his head.
"O… U…" With her voice taken away, Kailia could only pathetically gurgle. Convulse in pain when her captor stuck three fingers at once between her legs, she struggled fruitlessly against the uncaring beast.
She kicked him, but it was like hitting a boulder. She attempted to wrestle with the rapist, but his scaly armor on his forearms made even touching them painful. His touches were heinous — his fingers moving inside the vagina, nauseating; his tongue playing with the nipples — terrible and vile.
The assassin couldn’t cry for help or mercy, but she still tried. Even as the massive rod violently entered her insides, she wouldn’t stop begging. And then Keyaruga started to thrust. Despite the hero’s attempts, Kailia was barely wet enough for him not to wear down his manhood to the point of bleeding. Alas, such courtesy didn’t spread toward the woman. Her lips twitched not in pleasure but in crippling pain. Keyaruga didn’t think of his unwilling partner, nor about her comfort. Her agonizing face was just another issue for him, which he solved by violently turning her back to him. For better or worse, Kailia’s resistance had severely deteriorated by that time.
He rushed inside, devoid of any compassion or concern. His glans rammed the womb, apparently to the point of hemorrhage. And the healer enjoyed himself. Obviously, such an act of cruelty was one of the worst sexual encounters in his life (with him taking the active role, that is), but it was never about the pleasures of flesh. As the woman’s tail, along with her charming athletic back, twitched in that barely tolerable torture, he felt elated and proud. The image of Norn getting torn into small pieces had subsided. Only the sculptured glute muscles and the ass he held in his hands filled his mind. He barely even noticed Kailia holding the wooden floor so frantically that her pointy fingernails began to peel off. It was excruciating, but not nearly as much as having the merciless brute ravage her from the inside. The woman cried silently, but the tears fell nonetheless. She prayed to her god, one of the thousands of idols revered in the Confederation. But it was all in vain...
In time, the demi-human stopped her pointless fight altogether. She lied on the dirty, rotten floor, sprayed with someone’s blood. At that point, she was just a piece of meat, with white and red fluids gushing out from between her morbidly swollen lower lips. Too exhausted to cry, too exhausted to be in pain. If there was hell, she was right in the middle of it.
And her tormentor… Keyaruga felt disappointed. He had a couple of ejaculations, but both felt too bland. Even if little, that was Kailia’s success. But… was it worth it at that point? The hero started… washing his clothes with a conjured water sphere. Both the attire and his own body. Judging from the bells outside, it was fourteen croims, which meant midday.
"Hey, woman. You have two choices now. Either we go on like that forever, up until you get to loveme, or you can just tell me your true name. I’m fine with both. So what is it? One or two?" The man asked, towering over the barely sensible husk. Whatever she was, the sheer pain and humiliation she went through during the hour and a half of their time together broke her down to the core. The bare remaining trace of sapience Kailia showed was embodied in her hands. The broken woman pressed them to her bare chest, carved with bluish traces of the man’s teeth. Her lips chanted, yet no voice emerged from her brutalized throat.
“Uh… N…” The killer, who became a victim, could produce nothing aside from the incomprehensible noises, pathetic and gruesome.
“Sorry, kitten, there’s no god to help you now. Trust me, I tried. They never listen to those in need.” Keyaruga couldn’t help but snivel on the woman’s hardships. He knew the golden leopard’s true name, but unless the latter (or someone else, who was told it) reveal it herself, no bondage could be forged. Yet, the poor thing was already lost for the world.
The Hero of Healing raised his lower lip. Even if he did figure out client’s identity, the lad couldn’t help but wonder, if Snor of snow leopards pursued his own agenda, or worked for someone else. The man, not even bothering to cover his crotch, circled around his useless bounty. But no matter how much he scratched his now black hair, nothing good came to his mind. Until…
Until the door creaked open. A malicious figure, undeterred and undetected by the healer’s ward entered the home. A woman with dark-blue skin, barely hidden under a single skirt made of cut arms and a necklace of skulls, gracefully strolled toward the hero. The deity somehow appeared giant while sustaining the human size. Keyaruga grabbed a pair of daggers, but made no attempts to use the jade eye. The deity’s dark hair was long and greasy, she had four hands, in one of which she carried the head of the previous owner of that shack. A balding freak, a murderous rapist, unlucky enough to encounter another of his kind. In another, she carried a dagger. The embodiment of changes and destruction spared no glance toward Kailia. But even so…
“My name is Kali. And hers is Menealia.” The goddess smirked, throwing away still fresh head in the window. Nobody could imagine Kailia even more miserable, but at that point she was just silently sobbing out of realization of her own weakness. The woman couldn’t even kill herself. Even when her own praised idol, the one her parents named her after, emerged… to sell the poor soul away.
“I see you’re here to talk business.” But what one tragedy could mean to divines? Keyaruga’s face turned ugly in a wide grin of self-satisfaction. Doubtful that Kali was just being generous. No, she clearly has some agenda there.
“Bullet Hashlant.” After all, with just two words she completely trapped the lad’s attention on herself.
“I’m listening.”
It was a nice and cloudless day out in Buranikka. As if there had been no chase across half the city the night before. A crowd of countless souls of all races flew through numerous streets; some walked, some ran, and some cat-boy shilled people to buy a newspaper. Something about disturbances at the eastern Jioral.
And there he was, just another shadow, strolling through the stone roads. Armed with a set of poisoned throwing knives and divine power over life and death, the man got ready to face any challenge. Raging bulls weren’t that powerful, and Keyaruga could easily dispatch their whole squad. Provided he lacked any vulnerable deadweight to stall him, of course. Like at the moment.
The lad eventually got close to the inn, where he intended to stay for a while. At the moment, it was… in a pretty workable state, actually. People came and went, and a massive hole had been steadily plugged by the local masons. It looked so normal, that none could tell a bunch of people died in rikish gi’s ambush. At least, nobody cared. A bunch of ogres and fox-eared women in orange vests patrolled the area, and Tidir, the blue-feathered innkeeper, and presumably something more, himself, guarded the building.
Well then, let’s have a look. And… of course my jade eye can’t read him. Another godling? I wonder how the hell could Fir make someone like this owe him? Either way, I can’t go back right now. First, I need those bulls to make amends. Until then, I must sacrifice my comfort and sentiments.
As the man reflected on his predicament, he managed to spot an agent. Some dark-skinned youngster with black dog ears stood on the nearest roof to the inn. He swept his gaze through the street before fleeing to the alleys.
Now that’s interesting. I’ll have to cut the tail on my way back. Only then will I be able to buy some treats and blankets for my girls, the man thought, as his legs drove him away from the god-possessed inn. It’s not like the sheets for camping were bad or anything, but Freia, for example, needed something warm and soft for her healthy sleep.
"Gods, what a hustle." The man mumbled, turning his back toward the crowded area.
As the lad marched through the streets, he noticed the black dog spy. Through walls, right to his hideout, which the hero would definitely visit eventually. But even as one distraction saw itself out, another appeared. Much more discreet and stealthy than the last, yet Keyaruga felt their presence.
"Maybe, I should look for some gorgeous scarfs? Or…"
While thinking aloud, the lad found himself walking into a small, cozy café. A few words with the mistress, a few glances through the window, and the lad sat on a chair with his foot resting on the knee.
I failed. I should’ve killed them on the spot and not let those mad cows chase us on their terms. Although I do think we’d have to finish them if not for the local militia’s involvement. That did shoo them away, but I’ll be damned if I think that put an end to Eve’s hardships. Now this… Kailia is waiting for a moment to ambush me here. A woman, a golden leopard. Looks promising. Go ahead, then, sweetie.
…
"Your biscuit and black wine." The girl with cat ears and nose spoke, bringing a plate of a round beige cake and a cup of a dark, steaming liquid. A drink imported from beyond the sea was sold in the local markets along with other exotic spices. Without further delay, he made the first bite.
"M-m, that’s nice. May I wonder what kind of milk you used for it? You know, I’m something of a baker myself, so…"
"Thank you. Our suppliers are from Balyria. If you want to know more, you should speak to my husband. He’s our chef here." The charming kitty politely smiled, drawing an abstract line between her and the customer. As for the milk, it turned out they bought it from raging bulls. After all, not all of them were known as brutal bounty hunters; a lot were farmers and cattlemen. The girl spoke about it with an accent that betrayed the moon cats' heritage from the west. "I have a good memory for faces, but you don’t seem familiar."
"Second day in the town."
And I’m already neck-deep in shit. Not the first time, nor the last.
"I see. Be careful out here; there have been a lot of bad rumors lately. And last night there was a fuss in the middle of Buranikka. Heard, a few militants died. That would never happen with our former me-ua." She admonished, giving Keyaruga a hint toward her true age. Presumably, at least forty.
"I’ll bear it in mind. Would you mind if I asked, how many years has your café been here? It can’t be that you’ve actually…"
"Me? No-no, I’ve just heard of him in my early travels before I settled here with Toorn." As the lady spoke, the healer gave a quick glance toward the family portrait. The wife was one of the ma-zok, while the husband, a tall man who was cooking a few more cakes at the moment — a human. Whatever they faced to be together, Norn’s punitive campaign would be the peak of it… A sad turn of events.
"This thing… is pretty good." Keyaruga gave his impression of the black wine. "Bitter, but really complements the sweetness of your pastries. Could you make me a few more cakes down the road? I have people I’d like to share them with."
"Of course, just give us a moment."
And so, the man was left alone in the empty hall. Nothing but the sounds of the city beyond the windows and the distant talk in tarenago between the mistress and her spouse distracted him from reflection. The cold steel pressed against his throat as well.
"I’ve been wondering if my outing proves futile. It's nice to know I’ve been wrong here. Now, what kind of business do you have with me?" The hero wondered, appraising the weapon of a cloaked female figure, who sneaked like a ghost behind his back. She held something reminiscent of a tiger's claw. The exotic dagger’s handle ended with a hole for a thumb.
"Turnen — nado kru (if you move, I’ll slit your throat)." The assassin didn’t bother to answer in Phasian. Or, she just knew nothing about that language. Either way, the hero’s attention was more drawn to her slim tail than the sharp blade.
"Ugh, how nice… Nanua hish (what do you want)?" The man asked with a wide grin on his face. Languages, cultures, customs, superstitions — so many things differed across the world, but not the tongue of violence and threats.
"Iblis-maran wor hanjanti (release lady Iblis)" Although her pronunciation felt off, Keyaruga couldn’t mistake the intent. What made it amusing was the fact that the leopard woman called Eve by the name of the vilest devil in Faran’s mythology. Most likely, a coincidence due to a mispronunciation.
"Nanu kade orun wor midunara (how did you find us)?" The man asked, feeling a natural arousal. He was fine with having his own neck endangered, so much so that the red-eyed lad saw it as some sort of foreplay. He had a pretty wild guess that Kailia was supposed to give Eve a hand, save her from raging bulls, and set her up on the path towards the queendom. But…
"Nia. Sartha, Iblis-maran wor haniate, nirathu (Smell. Now, release lady Eve and I will spare you)." ...her next phrase changed it all.
A word, a single verb at the end of the statement thundered with pain and shock. The mirth was gone; it was only nervous twitching that grabbed hold of the man’s right eye. His focus slipped; the hero felt nauseous, even hallucinating. Only if it took a moment, he had to relieve the most tragic moment from the first world. Then…
"Fetha (no)." With a loud creak of his teeth, Keyaruga grabbed the woman’s hand. So fast, so precise, that even the assassin got bewildered — the healer got her right hand suspended with no chance of moving even by a centimeter.
"Ghh!.." Kailia revealed another knife, previously hidden in her left arm. Without a swing, she pointed the edge into the man’s shoulder. And yet… without any seeming resistance, the healer stuck the fangy blade right into his neck. That didn’t stop the onslaught, and a fountain of blood rushed onto the sweets, and even more so, as he dragged the blade by his throat. Only when the wound reached another side did the man turn back toward the destroyer of his life. He… smiled.
"G-ga… Gantharma (Monster)…" The woman’s legs trembled; she slouched as the madman covered his injury, making it close. Not even a scar remained under the chin, let alone the pierced wound in the shoulder. And his face… Nothing but a mindless grin and bloodstains all over the place. Kailia was torn between the wish to flee and fight. In the end, just for a little bit… the latter prevailed.
With a tight grip on her curved knives, the assassin aimed her blades toward Keyaruga’s tendrils. Shoulders, knees, armpits — her numerous blows were swift, technique made up for the lack of high level. And yet, the man spared nothing but a few elusive moves, as if dancing around the empty wooden chairs. No blow reached his flesh, not even the blood-soaked clothes. But the foe never stalled, especially when the hero got pushed toward the wall. It wouldn't be long before the blade slashed through the lad's temple. And yet…
"STOP IT AT ONCE!!!" Before it happened, a slim, tall, balding man snarled at them. And to make his statement count, he held a bow, too large for his stature, with a pulled bowstring, ready to shoot at the troublemakers, while his wife stood beside him with a crossbow. That married couple made quite a formidable duo, but would that be enough?
"I… will… n…" Before the dark-haired lad could finish, the wall shattered. The mere wood and glass were nothing compared to the colossal figure with rags all over the body. It raised a cloud of dust. And when it settled, everyone saw the intruder. The raging bull, unmistakably, and as the cloth fell off of him upon the impact, everyone in the room saw his rotting sewn wounds.
"RA-A-A-A-A-A!!!" With a bestial roar, the monster rushed toward Keyaruga. The latter recognized the foe; previously, the lad cut his throat and then flayed the stubborn goon. The horned gunk shouldn’t have survived that, and he didn’t. What came for the hero was an undead husk, driven by dark magic and residual animosity toward its murderer.
Keyaruga dashed sideways as the gargantuan battleaxe made a wide dent in the floor. Kailia leaped backward, and the married couple, while profoundly swearing, began shooting the monster. The healer, although still trapped in a cage of conflicting emotions, took out a few throwing knives before pointing them into the lifeless black-ish eyes. Metal struck true, as did three arrows and a crossbow bolt that had become lodged in the mauled head.
Would that stop the living corpse from causing further mayhem? Obviously, no. The reanimated body continued to throw wide swings in every direction it could, despite the fact that it had lost all sense of direction. And so, the hero dodged another mindless blow just to deliver the final touch on the rotting corpse. Or… a punch right through the ribcage, making his way toward the heart. Then, a single purple spark from the inside heralded the end of the bull, as his limbs fell off along with heavy chunks of sticky, stinking blood.
"It’s… I’ll make up for the destruction. Later…" The man nearly whispered. His mind was in a haze, but that didn’t prevent him from taking a chunk of the carcass’ horn to track down the shamans who revived it. Still, someone else used a moment of the healer’s confusion to flee. Unfortunately for her, Keyaruga was just as filled with focused hatred as he was with crippling pain.
"Hey, wai-!.. Kakrta (shit)." The lean baker spat on the floor, while his wife just silently and slowly shook her head, while the dark-haired lad lunged outside as if he were a rock in a slingshot.
…
He ran. Streets, alleys, narrow paths between the buildings. He sprinted. Between humans, ma-zok kin, quite a few demi-humans appeared and faded in his blurry eyesight. For what it's worth, Keyaruga tried not to bump into them, but since he looked more like a mad hound, sometimes even using his arms for propelling, that was quite a task at hand.
This path… She does to Eve! Freia, Setsuna… No… I won’t allow you, bitch! Not again!
She ran. Her step was graceful and agile, but Kailia didn’t enjoy the limitless stamina her pursuer had. She was terrified. Despite her every attempt to cut the tail, the monster in human form never stalled or lost her track. To her, Keyaruga was just another thug who kidnapped the queen-to-be. A psychotic and unstable abomination with some immortality magic. A single demi-human, no matter how skilled, just couldn’t take on such a threat. What she could do, though, was track down his captive and flee from Buranikka altogether. Kailia’s dark robes were all sweaty inside, her lungs began to burn, and her teeth clattered with fear. For herself, and for what that beast would do if he caught up with her… What he would do to the defenseless young girl, if left to his own devices. House after house, road after road, it all turned to a bleak mess, a hunting ground for an invulnerable demon. The best the woman could do against that apex predator…
"A-A-AH!!!" Right on the verge of dirty slums, with only a few hundred meters remaining to her goal, Keyaruga emerged from above, stomping the woman into the ground. Keyaruga, covered in blood and overcome by normally suppressed ferocity, looked anything but human. "Tu n…"
"Shut… the fuck up." The deranged hero growled, clasping Kailia’s neck. Then he raised her above the ground, not even caring about her attempts to cut his arms. After all, with stone scales covering the skin, such struggles looked quite amusing to watch. "Heh… No blue flame that time, bitch?"
"Nan-! U-ugh!.." Whatever confusion Kailia tried expressing, her voice faded after Keyaruga punched her in the chest. The woman gruesomely threw up before losing her consciousness.
…
Fear. Nausea. Pain from the light itself. Kailia, a demi-human from the people of the golden leopards, was dragged on her captor's shoulder. Everything was in a haze for her, like a dream. Or rather a nightmare with no chance to wake up. She saw a road, the ground, and a wooden floor. How someone’s innards painted it in red. The assassin had taken dozens of lives, working on countless people, but she never saw so much blood in a single day.
After what seemed like an eternity, Keyaruga rudely dropped his bounty and started undressing her.
"Let’s see, no wings. Obviously. Eve doesn’t know her. Hmm, three more knives? I’ll take it? A curvy dagger? No, the balance is off, can’t throw it. And I can’t even sell it. Hmm…"
And so he proceeded, taking away any weapons or concealed tools of murder and escape, leaving nothing on the bare body, before tying Kailia’s hands and feet with scraps from her own cloak. Throughout that time, the woman remained, although barely, aware of her embarrassing predicament.
"Now, let’s see what you’re hiding from me?"
And so, Keyaruga put his palm on the assassin’s forehead. One green spark, and the divine power rushed into her very being. Keyaruga saw it all — the orphanage she was raised in, the cruelty of the caretakers, how they turned the entire place into a brothel, how the blonde girl cut their throats in their sleep. So much pain, so many responsibilities for her brethren, so much spilled blood…
And that meant nothing for the man. He just couldn’t sympathize with the killer of his Norn. Of their unborn child. All he needed was a name. And the chosen of Panakea got it — Snor, the chieftain of snow leopards, hired that blade to deliver him the kokuyoku scion, preferably in one piece.
"Haa… I see how it is." The lad mumbled with a sign of relief. Although the list of mercs wouldn’t be limited to only this one, he was glad to face his old foe once again. "Stop pretending you’re asleep, my fair Kailia. Oh, don’t give me that look. I know you’re more than capable of understanding me."
"A… u…" The woman attempted to form an answer, but instead of words, she managed to produce only a pitiful wheezing. She tried again, and again, and again, but the result remained the same.
"Are you scared? You should be." The blood-soaked monster in human form voraciously grinned, standing tall above the defenseless woman. "I saw you blow up the love of my life before my eyes. What? Surprised? Of course, you’ve already killed pregnant women. But no, you can’t remember what happens in the future. I, on the other hand, will never forget. You took my child, my only chance of getting… something in that ruined life. But I don’t blame you. I would even set you free… But you came to take away my Eve!"
"…?…" Kailia, although completely disarmed, gave her captor a daringly aggressive look.
"You’re just a mercenary…" Keyaruga kneeled near the woman to take her by the chin. "…and I can do whatever I want with you." Having said that, the lad helped himself with a vulgar and obscene act. He grabbed Kailia’s head, violently opened her eyelids and licked her trembling right eye. Then, he tossed her on the back. "You and I are gonna have so much fun together!"
The man, driven now with desire, licked his lips. With all the signs of gore on his clothes and neck, that gesture alone made the woman shiver in fear. As he dropped the shirt, her trembling arms made every attempt to free themselves from the bonds. While the mad human took off his pants, the golden leopard finally set her limbs free. It was the only bright part of it. And brief. After all, barely had she stood up to run away, Keyaruga pushed her back down to the floor. He only needed one hand, while the other stroked his penis just to make it erect. Even if Kailia was one of the most gorgeous women he had ever met, that barely changed the past.
"Impatient, are we?" The man sneered, groping the woman’s springy breasts. They looked so alluring, so mature, that the lad couldn’t help but lick the nipples. Even if his current toy desperately kicked his head.
"O… U…" With her voice taken away, Kailia could only pathetically gurgle. Convulse in pain when her captor stuck three fingers at once between her legs, she struggled fruitlessly against the uncaring beast.
She kicked him, but it was like hitting a boulder. She attempted to wrestle with the rapist, but his scaly armor on his forearms made even touching them painful. His touches were heinous — his fingers moving inside the vagina, nauseating; his tongue playing with the nipples — terrible and vile.
The assassin couldn’t cry for help or mercy, but she still tried. Even as the massive rod violently entered her insides, she wouldn’t stop begging. And then Keyaruga started to thrust. Despite the hero’s attempts, Kailia was barely wet enough for him not to wear down his manhood to the point of bleeding. Alas, such courtesy didn’t spread toward the woman. Her lips twitched not in pleasure but in crippling pain. Keyaruga didn’t think of his unwilling partner, nor about her comfort. Her agonizing face was just another issue for him, which he solved by violently turning her back to him. For better or worse, Kailia’s resistance had severely deteriorated by that time.
He rushed inside, devoid of any compassion or concern. His glans rammed the womb, apparently to the point of hemorrhage. And the healer enjoyed himself. Obviously, such an act of cruelty was one of the worst sexual encounters in his life (with him taking the active role, that is), but it was never about the pleasures of flesh. As the woman’s tail, along with her charming athletic back, twitched in that barely tolerable torture, he felt elated and proud. The image of Norn getting torn into small pieces had subsided. Only the sculptured glute muscles and the ass he held in his hands filled his mind. He barely even noticed Kailia holding the wooden floor so frantically that her pointy fingernails began to peel off. It was excruciating, but not nearly as much as having the merciless brute ravage her from the inside. The woman cried silently, but the tears fell nonetheless. She prayed to her god, one of the thousands of idols revered in the Confederation. But it was all in vain...
In time, the demi-human stopped her pointless fight altogether. She lied on the dirty, rotten floor, sprayed with someone’s blood. At that point, she was just a piece of meat, with white and red fluids gushing out from between her morbidly swollen lower lips. Too exhausted to cry, too exhausted to be in pain. If there was hell, she was right in the middle of it.
And her tormentor… Keyaruga felt disappointed. He had a couple of ejaculations, but both felt too bland. Even if little, that was Kailia’s success. But… was it worth it at that point? The hero started… washing his clothes with a conjured water sphere. Both the attire and his own body. Judging from the bells outside, it was fourteen croims, which meant midday.
"Hey, woman. You have two choices now. Either we go on like that forever, up until you get to loveme, or you can just tell me your true name. I’m fine with both. So what is it? One or two?" The man asked, towering over the barely sensible husk. Whatever she was, the sheer pain and humiliation she went through during the hour and a half of their time together broke her down to the core. The bare remaining trace of sapience Kailia showed was embodied in her hands. The broken woman pressed them to her bare chest, carved with bluish traces of the man’s teeth. Her lips chanted, yet no voice emerged from her brutalized throat.
“Uh… N…” The killer, who became a victim, could produce nothing aside from the incomprehensible noises, pathetic and gruesome.
“Sorry, kitten, there’s no god to help you now. Trust me, I tried. They never listen to those in need.” Keyaruga couldn’t help but snivel on the woman’s hardships. He knew the golden leopard’s true name, but unless the latter (or someone else, who was told it) reveal it herself, no bondage could be forged. Yet, the poor thing was already lost for the world.
The Hero of Healing raised his lower lip. Even if he did figure out client’s identity, the lad couldn’t help but wonder, if Snor of snow leopards pursued his own agenda, or worked for someone else. The man, not even bothering to cover his crotch, circled around his useless bounty. But no matter how much he scratched his now black hair, nothing good came to his mind. Until…
Until the door creaked open. A malicious figure, undeterred and undetected by the healer’s ward entered the home. A woman with dark-blue skin, barely hidden under a single skirt made of cut arms and a necklace of skulls, gracefully strolled toward the hero. The deity somehow appeared giant while sustaining the human size. Keyaruga grabbed a pair of daggers, but made no attempts to use the jade eye. The deity’s dark hair was long and greasy, she had four hands, in one of which she carried the head of the previous owner of that shack. A balding freak, a murderous rapist, unlucky enough to encounter another of his kind. In another, she carried a dagger. The embodiment of changes and destruction spared no glance toward Kailia. But even so…
“My name is Kali. And hers is Menealia.” The goddess smirked, throwing away still fresh head in the window. Nobody could imagine Kailia even more miserable, but at that point she was just silently sobbing out of realization of her own weakness. The woman couldn’t even kill herself. Even when her own praised idol, the one her parents named her after, emerged… to sell the poor soul away.
“I see you’re here to talk business.” But what one tragedy could mean to divines? Keyaruga’s face turned ugly in a wide grin of self-satisfaction. Doubtful that Kali was just being generous. No, she clearly has some agenda there.
“Bullet Hashlant.” After all, with just two words she completely trapped the lad’s attention on herself.
“I’m listening.”
