by Noah Layton
I raised the sword just in time.
The blade met the monster’s hand just inches above my head.
It stopped the hand in its tracks, the tip plunging straight through its gigantic palm.
‘AAARRGGHHH!!!’
The demon pulled its hand back immediately, the blade dragging through its flesh and unleashing another terrible scream from its lungs.
It staggered back several steps, shaking the very ground beneath us with each of its lumbering footsteps. It raised its hand and screamed at the wound, then looked back to me.
It wasn’t reacting the same way that all of my other foes had; for one it was still standing instead of crumbling into dust.
What had Garrison said?
There are other things that exist in the deep reaches of the world.
That was why I couldn’t reduce it to dust.
The demon was a product of the world below, the same as the agrarium.
I still had the sword raised, at the ready to swing again.
But at the sight of the glimmering blade, its mind had lost interest in a haze of fear.
I was no longer a viable target.
Instead, it turned its attention back to the ground, and then that psychotic grin returned once more.
‘NO!’ I yelled out.
The creature started towards the crowds of soldiers and allies.
It was set on causing as much destruction as it possibly could.
A single swipe from one of its huge, clawed hands could kill ten, fifteen, even twenty with just one motion.
I couldn’t let that happen.
I sprinted after the monster, gaining on it as fast as I could.
‘EVERYBODY BACK!!!’
Shouts to move and efforts to scramble away dominated the crowds.
None of my people were cowards, but they were no match for this fearsome creature.
And it was getting closer to my people.
I leaped through the air, the sword outstretched in my grasp, and jammed the blade straight into the demon’s heel.
The creature screamed again and halted in its pursuit of my allies.
I clambered sharply to my feet and pulled the sword free from the demon’s leg. Its blackened blood sprayed out, hissing and steaming against the snowy ground, melting it right down to the muddy grass below.
‘Come on!’ I shouted up at it as it returned its attention to me. ‘I’m the one you want!’
I retreated towards the tree, my faced muddied and my armor spattered with blood.
The demon set its sights on me once more and rushed straight towards me, its huge feet pounding the ground.
It reached forwards with its uninjured hand, claws sharpened and ready to gut me completely.
I darted to the side, barely dodging its path before sweeping out at its hand madly.
I cleaved two of its claws clean from its body, spraying a torrent of its acidic blood all over the ground.
‘AAARGGHHH!!!’
If I hadn’t pissed it off already, I definitely had now.
The creature lowered itself and reached out. I didn’t have time to come back for another swipe.
It had me.
The hand that I had injured first wrapped around my body, lifting me quickly from the ground.
Its grip tightened by the second as it eyed me.
I had little doubt that it was ready to consume me whole.
‘JACK!!!’
My wives screamed out my name in terror as I was lifted from the ground in the creature’s grasp.
The metal of my armor began to creak and break at the demon’s strength. It was the only thing protecting me from the toxic blood leaking from its wound.
‘There’s no way I’m getting taken down by you, you demonic motherfucker,’ I grunted, mustering the last breath that I could.
I switched my grip on the sword and plunged it down into the monster’s wrist, the one connected to the very hand that was clinging onto me.
The creature gripped my body harder.
Something that wasn’t the armor snapped in my chest, and an explosion of pain burst through me.
It only made me plunge the sword’s blade harder.
‘FUCK YOU!!!’
With a final, tearing shred that took all of my remaining strength, I ripped through the demon’s wrist and cleaved its hand from its body.
The attack I had summoned was so fierce that my sword pushed further with the sheer force, cutting into the side of the demon’s torso.
I plummeted back to the ground, landing hard upon the ground before dragging my way out of the dismembered hand, the fingers of which were still wrapped around me.
The demon groaned in pain. It started to howl in anger and looked as if it wanted to unleash another brutal attack on me.
But it couldn’t.
It was losing too much blood.
A final hellish scream left the demon’s gnashing maw. It thrashed and squirmed before its body went rigid and it finally threw its head back, howling in a terrible, ear-splitting screech.
I dropped my sword and clasped my hands to my ears. The sound was so brutal that every one of my soldiers and allies, even the thick-skinned and disciplined warriors, writhed in pain as the shrieking filled the land.
Smoke exploded from the demon’s mouth and rushed straight back through the door of the treehouse in a powerful channel, straight back into the crumpled urn from which it had emerged.
The smoke cleared, and where the demon had been standing Garrison’s form now stood.
His body was bloodied, his face scattered with scars, and there was a huge, gaping wound where his left arm should have been, carving straight towards his heart.
Exactly where I had struck the demon.
Still, somehow, he was alive.
He turned and scrambled up the steps, grunting like an animal before clawing his way through the treehouse door.
I heard him stumble and strike the ground hard. Sharply I raced after him, stopping at the door with my sword at the ready.
The demon had relinquished its control over him. It had no intention to carry on this fight; even if Garrison sought to open the urn once again, I doubted that the demon would return to possess him.
But the urn remained exactly where it had been upon the table, its lid in place and the bindings clasping it firmly together. It had returned to its previous place somehow, as if summoned there.
Garrison wasn’t near it; he was lying on the ground by one of his chests, surrounded by gold coins and jewels and precious ornaments, clutching at as many as he could in the bloody hand that he had left..
His face was do disfigured that I could hardly make a word out as he wheezed, trying to speak.
With his last breath he looked up at me and flashed a grimacing, bitter smile as he pulled his gold and jewels closer to him.
‘Cage… Breaker…’ He wheezed.
A death rattle croaked from his gullet, and then his whole body fell limp.
He was dead, surrounded by his blood-stained riches.
The treehouse fell eerily silent. My many allies still stood upon this tribal land outside, all waiting in defensive silence for any sign of movement.
I moved before Garrison’s body and examined him.
For all the greed and malice that men could fill their hearts with, for all the dangerous reputations that they could muster in the minds of their enemies and their underlings, in the end they didn’t look like much.
Garrison was no different. His limp, useless body was scarred and in tatters. I had ended him, and now, much like the way he treated the people around him, he himself had become just another thing.
I planted my hands on the folds of his torn jacket and lifted him up, dragging his body across the treehouse floor and moving through the open doorway, back into the light.
The faces of my allies looked back at me from below, stood row on row now in their hundreds before the treehouse steps.
I lifted Garrison’
s body with the remaining strength from the perilous battle and threw his corpse onto the steps harshly.
There was no clearer statement that could be made about the death of a tyrant than displaying his remains for all to see.
A gasp of shock raced through the crowd.
A chill seemed to run by as the body toppled to a stop upon the steps.
The moment it stopped, an incredible cheer boomed through the crowd. Riotous applause and contented war-cries roared across the land in a deep, booming wall of noise.
Fists shook at the air, ecstatic smiles crossed the faces of the soldiers and the freed slaves, and from the crowd emerged my closest allies.
My companions in war appeared first – Tobias and Mariana, their armor battered and their weapons still drawn, but their faces filled with an admiration that I had rarely seen in my life before arriving in Agraria.
They joined me on the steps, Tobias and I clasping our hands together in the firm, congratulatory acknowledgement of soldiers. Mariana dropped her weapon to the ground and wrapped her arms around me in a tight embrace. The strawberry scent of her luscious blonde hair was a much-needed remedy against the blood and chaos of the battlefield.
Alorion arrived not a moment later. He dispensed with the intelligent demeanor that he usually maintained, instead clambering up my back like a racoon and perching atop mine and the Tobias’s shoulders with uncontrollable happiness.
From the crowd my wives emerged too, rushing up the steps to stand among our small group. I had never been happier to see them.
The crowd fell silent in tense anticipation. Every single one of them was looking to me for words of leadership and reassurance, of confidence and guidance.
I had never made a speech like this before, not to hundreds of people. This was the kind of thing that leaders prepared and rehearsed meticulously until the rhetoric was perfect.
But I didn’t need to rehearse. I knew exactly what I was going to say.
I cast my words out into the breathless quiet that awaited before me.
‘Garrison’s reign of terror is over,’ I began. ‘No matter who you are, no matter what tribe or people you belong to, all of your lives have been affected by this man. That ends today.
‘To the slaves held in captivity by the Garrison Tribe: I, Master Jack of the Orakin Tribe, grant you your freedom. You can create whatever life you want for yourselves in Agraria now, but know this; we are stronger together, and you are all welcome in the folds of the Orakin Tribe. We value, peace, wealth and strength above all else, and we never tolerate the blight that is slavery. Wherever we find it, we crush it.
‘This victory today may have been led by me and my team of companions, but I am the least important person in this battalion. Because if it wasn’t for every single one of you and your ferocious, fearless fighting in defense of your freedoms, we would not have won this battle.
‘I may command a weapon of great power, but the greatest power of this tribe is you. All of you – every single man or woman who stands upon the land of a vicious tyrant and says no more. When I look out at you all, I don’t see tools or slaves. I see free people.
‘Together, we are unstoppable. Together, we will take control of this world, vanquishing every tyrant, freeing the oppressed, and raising the wealth and power of this tribe to a kind never seen before in Agraria!!!’
The crowd had been silent up until now. At that final word I raised the sword high, its blue light seeming to glow more powerfully than ever.
The hundreds before me suddenly roared, throwing their fists into the air and cheering wildly. It had been repressed ever since I had begun my speech and called for quiet.
Now it was unleashed.
Every single one of them had faith in me as their leader. I had offered the freed slaves the choice to live their own lives independently, away from here.
Yet in every pair of eyes that my own met, I saw the same dedication.
Every free being wanted to join us.
‘Today we break the bonds of the tyrants!’ I called out, speaking from my heart. ‘Today we break the chains that shackle free people!’
Another riotous roar broke out from the crowd. My wives surrounded me, the scents of their hair and their perfume dragging me into a stupor of ecstatic joy as they pressed themselves to me and wrapped their arms around my sides with total adoration.
A strange chant suddenly began to break out in the crowd, growing in volume and strength as the seconds passed.
At first I couldn’t ascertain what they were saying, but as more and more joined the call and the chant spread like wildfire, the booming words soon became clear.
‘ORAKIN! ORAKIN! ORAKIN!’
The chanting echoed across the land and into the trees, an open and fearless call to any threats that lurked in the wilds, be they tribes or monsters.
No more hiding.
Chapter Twenty
‘This is your land now. You were ripped from your homes and sold into the world like livestock, but today that ends. This is your new home, if you desire it. All I ask is that you join the folds of the Orakin Tribe, of which I am the master. We don’t believe in slaves; we believe in the freedom of our people, in enhancing our riches, and in slaying anyone who poses a threat to our way of life.’
Of all of my experiences with foreign tribes so far, one thing had become apparent; no matter how many members there were in a group, one figure would always emerge as the leader.
Garrison’s tribal regime could be described in one word, which was commodities. Take as much as he could; keep what he wanted; rid himself of the rest in a quick turnaround. From speaking to the slaves, it quickly become apparent that the one thing he turned around fastest were the slaves themselves.
They never spent long upon the land, always being sold quickly to buyers after Garrison had taken them to The Market.
Too expensive to hold onto for too long, one of the slaves had heard him say. My tribe has no need for greater numbers of slaves. They require too much food to keep them in good condition, and too much upkeep.
After one of the freed slaves had told me that, I wanted to kill Garrison and all of his guards a second time.
Seeing as that was impossible, an unmarked grave in the forest that would eventually be treaded over with dirt and grass and lost to the wilds of the world would have to suffice.
After the chaos of the battle had finally subsided and the dust had settled, both literally and metaphorically, three groups of slaves had emerged.
The first were the satyrs. A group of around 20 had been toiling in the forests around the land for some time on Garrison’s behalf, mining ores beyond the borders so that the lasting effects of the purging of the earth wouldn’t show signs upon the grass of Garrison’s territory.
The second were the dwarves. No less than fifty had been rounded up from Onilsia’s land. They had been working the furnaces, churning out refined bars from the work that the satyrs had been conducting.
The third and final group of slaves consisted of a mismatched collection of individuals had been thrown into captivity together. Gnomes, a small family of centaurs, and a dozen fox-people.
Ariadne and her people were strong, but I had never seen so many tears shed in such a happy moment than when they were reunited.
Back when I first rescued her I never would have thought that we would be able to rescue so many more. In Garrison’s eyes they had been hard workers, and as a result he hadn’t sold them off.
But the fox-people, the satyrs, the dwarves and all of the others – they had been kept in terrible conditions, and I couldn’t help but believe that it was a blessing that they had managed to survive this long.
But it was because of their unity that they had managed to survive.
No matter their kind or their background, they all had a common desire – to survive. They had come together in the face of their captors and kept each other from the throes of death.
That was what had united them.
I spoke the same words of my speech to every freed slave that I came across. In the aftermath of the battle and the presentation of Garrison’s body – a clear statement all on its own about who I was and what the tribe was capable of – every one of them wanted to speak to me, to shake my hand.
Each clasped grip that I took from them was both a show of respect and a request to join the tribe.
I admitted each and every one of them, tapping the Accept? button as it appeared before me in a constant repeating stream.
After the 30th member I lost count.
I spoke to them all for hours, hearing the tales of their lives, their prayers to the gods, their desires for the future.
Once the talks had ended, the hundreds occupying the land quickly got to work on the clean-up.
Despite the cold, there were smoldering embers still lurking all around, emanating smoke and feeding on the destroyed fences that had marked the perimeter.
Then there were the bodies, not just of our enemies but of the fallen allies that we had lost in battle.
Our enemies would be cast into the forest, buried in unmarked graves. I was now firmly of the belief that no mercy should be shown to any who threatened us, but that didn’t mean I didn’t have respect for our enemies.
To disrespect the enemy was to underestimate them. I had learned that on more than one occasion, and I would never forget it.
Our own dead were a different matter. I respected them more than anything in this world; they had given their lives in the name of vanquishing a threat to our people, and they deserved the highest honor in their burial.
I had established a small cemetery back at my main land after killing Werger and finding the dead foxman. He and Oden were the only ones who had been put to rest there so far.
My main land was the home of my closest allies and companions, and the cemetery was for them too. The five warriors that had lost their lives in the battle would be buried there, and buried properly.
Another nineteen of our own had lost their lives – sun-elves and several freed slaves who had joined the fight in rebelling against Garrison’s forces.
Mariana would take the sun-elves back to her land so that they could be buried amongst their own people, but the freed slaves were different.