One Moo'r Plow

Book 1: Chapter 43: Beyond All reason.

Inaction was the slow death. Unforseen, unforgiving.

This, I pondered as I awoke to a new dawn. My chores passed in a tired haze as I felt the affects of yet another sleepless night. Worry clouded my thoughts, ate away at the fringes of my mind. Gnawed and chewed till I could stand it no longer. With a grunt, I poured the pails of milk into cooled, vine-wrapped jars, slammed down the empty metal and decided to go and do something about all this.

I bellowed for Artyom, told him to look after the farm and feed Gol. Claymore at my belt, armor secured and my few remaining flasks of healing milk on hand, I set out for the mountains peak. Just like that. A decision made like a snap, yes. But I could stand the worry no longer. The uncertainty that came with trying to bury myself in work and experiments. The vain hope that all would be alright.

I refused to just sit here and not be a part of rescuing Ishila, if she was still alive. Tehalis had told me to wait until they were ready. Well, I was going to accelerate that readiness.

A mountain clad in steel strode up the path as the sun began to clear the horizon to my side. The road lay bare with none to cross my path. Save one.

Deep was the shout that echoed from behind me, a greeting from one traveler to another. I turned and observed a man who seemed wholly unfamiliar. A human casually strolled towards me, a rogueish smile upon his face. An unbuttoned shirt made of fine material was what I first saw, backed by a pearly smile, dark stubble and slicked-back hair. A rapier hung alongside flared pants. Something one would expect from a nobles court, not traversing towards imminenet danger.

Greetings. The man hailed enthusiastically. A tone I did not return. Merely a ruble of acknowledgement.

Tiredness still pulled at my eyes, sunken as they were beneath the helm I now wore.

Forgive me for staring, but I have not seen one of your kind in so long, let along this deep in human lands! He beamed, eyeing me up and down.

Now you have. I grunted. What do you want?

This. he pondered. This is an opportunity.

It was only now that I noticed a wrongness about this man. The smell of blood loosely splattered about his clothes. A gleam in his eyes. He walked like a cat, strung tight and ready to pounce.

The Gods Above must truly love me, if they have given me this unique chance, He rambled on as I cautiously eyed him up and down. To not leap at it would be to spit in their faces.

There was a hidden dirtiness to his clothes. The sign of a man who was constantly on the move, without a stop to wash or clean. I had been that way, once. But this did not stir empathy in me. The opposite, in fact.

Be on your way. I rumbled, eyes narrowed.

Tell me, minotaur. Do you consider yourself a religious man? Do you fear the Gods Above, give thanks that they let you live another day, so you may have met me?

They exist. But I do not fear them. What use is fear when they will do as they want?

Early morning theology was not among my strong suits. Before I had come here, the idea of actual deities roaming the skies above and watching the world seemed foreign to me. Here, it was an everyday thing. Even Garek had memories of having once seen one of them descend in the distance, albeit opposite a battlefield to him.

On this day, they have put you before me. And I give thanks for this feast.

The space between heartbeats passed as the words slithered into my ears, struck my brain and screamed danger. A blur streaked towards me, blade flashed up and aimed at my throat. Wouldnt draw the claymore in time. A fist encased in metal swung around and struck the madman across the chest.

Felt like striking a feather. The man twisted beneath the blow, thrown aside by sheer force. Tumbled through the air and landed upon his feet. A bloody, vicious smile upon his features. The stench of bloodlust filled my nostrils now. He and I both drew something at the same time. Mine, a claymore. His, a blurry shape I recognized too late.

Crossbow.

The string twanged and bolt raced across the open space. Right at my eyes. A vioent twist of my head and it glanced off my helm instead. Barely phased by the impact, I closed the distance with long strides. Ready to kill. Peace only went so far when some lunatic attacked me.

You will be my next breakthrough! The push I need for the next level! He laughed and danced backwards, a blue blur pulled from somewhere. A crystal, my vision found. It shattered beneath the mans grip as he squeezed, a loud and pure sound.

Blue sprung into existence round his form, and I blinked in confusion as the man seemed to stretch. An after and beforeimage seemed the only explanation. He lunged again, even faster. A slab of iron I called a sword swung to meet him and cleaved through the man.

A doppelganger, I found. The second image stepped over the firsts corpse and thrust a gleaming rapied at my face. Already committed to my swing, I could not pull back as the blade neared my face. I stumbled forward instead and took it to the chest. It pierced my armor and flesh with ease, lancing through my hide to the flesh, muscle and precious insides beneath.

With a bellow of pain, I swung aside, weapon buried deep within me and ripped the hilt from his grasp. The mans sword firmly embedded in my flesh, I continued momentum, dragged the claymore along the ground and twisted with all my might to cleave a massive moon of steel around me.

He rolled beneath the blow, then froze as I bellowed and called Cloven Crash. Again, he faded backwards, a ghost of himself left frozen as my blade split it in twain. Then staggered and clutched a gaping hole in his chest as Blood for blood found him.

Hate and rage flowed through my veins like poison now. An acid that burned at my soul, made it so much more satisfying when the physical force of Scream of Fury knocked the man backwards. Lean arms fumbled at pockets and more crystals were flung at me. Explosions of light and sound did little as my already poor vision blinded. Yet I stomped forward, firmly on the mans bloodstained scent.

I felt the rapier rip itself from my shoulder as my vision cleared. Some sort of recall skill. One metal-clad hand latched onto the blade and I ripped it from the sky as hot fury snorted itself from my nostrils.

Not today.

Another roar made the man flinch, ever so slightly. His pull faded for an instant, and just like that I hauled the weapon back, leveraged it against the claymores blade and snapped it in twain.

I recognized the red fluid of a feshknitter as the man jumped backwards, lifesblood spilled from his body. He swallowed, staggered and then roared with bloodshot eyes as the wound began to close. Far faster than any other I had seen. Pain entered his scent now as he yanked free more crystals. More afterimages. A spectral whip of blades formed in three separate grasps. The world blurred, trees replaced by an azure sphere that surrounded us.

But I was not trapped in this place with him. Quite the opposite.

His whip did not have the piercing strength of the shattered rapier. Instead, I let it skid off my armor, blue streaks of frost left behind despite the sheer heat. A brutal dance of his retreat and my advance ensued now as I stomped ever forward, shredding through doppelgangers one bellow at a time.

Cloven Crash proved its worth a dozen times over in the span of a minute. For all his speed, I only needed to lock them down one at a time. A swing did the rest. The has tiredness on the mans face as he approached the asuze globes wall and slipped through. I crashed into it second later and found myself halted.

Not for long. Reckless Charge gave my speed, grinded my body against the hardened wall until it shattered around me. I burst from the bubble, eyes locked on my attacker, filled to the brim with murder and rage. A lance of force appeared before my eyes and slammed into my face before I could do more than blink. A blow to kill another man.

Not me.

To another, this man would have been a monster. An oppressive force, with Skills and relics to kill them with contemptous ease. I had beenw arned of his ilk. Grinders, or so Raffnyk had named them. Thatmuch I could piece together. Shells of men who saw others as nothing more than more levels. Scum. Ruthless. Dangerous. Prepared to kill.

To me, he was naught but a conduit upon which to vent my rage. It crossed my mind that nothing so large should move this fast as I barreled towards the man, shrugging off lance after lance of azure force hurled at me. My armor chilled and cracked on impact, cold to the touch.

I drew near and looked my attacker in the eyes. Eyes that swelled and glowed brilliant blue, followed by his skin doing the same. Shockwaves of force hurled me through the air as all turned brillaint blue. The explosion ripped through the still morning, trees toppled and earth sloughed outwards by pure power as the hand of a titan batted me through the air. I struck a tree, broke it in twain and kept going.

Ironhide likely saved me, brought up right before detonation. I struck the earth, went through the base of another tree and cratered through the dirt. Fury ripped itself from my lungs and hands trembled with anger as I seized the ground and hauled myself upright. My claymore was somehow still within my hand. Eyes bloodshot, temples pounding and breath coming in heaves, I charged through the undergrowth. Without sight, I relied on scent.

It did not fail me.

Trees fell away around me as I emerged back onto the road, blinded by hatred and driven by sheer berserk fury. A massive crater was now in place of the road, and in its center tottered the madman who had started it all.

Hooves ripped free dirt as I charged through the crater, and for the first time, fear entered his scent.

I watched it dawn in his eyes as I bore down on him, claymore over my shoulder.

The end was here, and he had brought it to his door. Eyes widened, mouth moved to say something.

Rot. Came the snarl from my lips as the blade descended like a steel meteor.

I watched the light leave his eyes, and found myselfsatisfied as he died.

At then I was left empty, standing there in dirt, blood and cold all around me. Death had come to visit me this day, and had not found me wanting. And above all else, showed me that it did not wait for a time when a man was ready. That it could come on the most peaceful mornings. My breath trembled as the wroth and wrath let slip their grasp, and I found myself seated in the dirt, gazed up at the sky, wondering what god I had offended to start my day out with such carnage.