by David Burke
That wasn’t the direction he had expected things to go, but Kyle quickly recovered. “I can’t honestly say if I’ve ever met Krig. I had a dream once about him… it is just about the earliest memory I have. Then, I found myself in Thena.” He paused, remembering that first night. “But for the hospitality of a family that took me in, I would have been homeless.”
“And how long ago was this?”
He shrugged. “Only two days before I was attacked at the quarry,” Kyle answered.
She frowned, but it was gone almost as quickly as it had appeared. “And you have no memories prior to that?” Meeka asked. Her gaze penetrated him and the pressure on him increased, but Kyle focused on cycling his War Essence and the pressure was gone.
“It was as though I was born fully grown in this world. I didn’t even speak the language. They tell me that I am a war elemental, but I don’t really know what that means or even why it matters. I am who I am, and I do what I do,” Kyle said.
“Didn’t even speak the language? Very interesting,” Meeka said thoughtfully. “I am hoping you can win the Kon for me. If you do so, it will make House Avarda a fortune. Even better, if you can put up a good showing in the beast games and then become the arena champion. That would prove how unbelievably valuable you are.”
“And why should I care what that does for House Avarda? If, like this chair, I am your property… do you think a chair cares if you benefit from it?” He asked.
“Oh, a philosopher and a fighter, this will be fun. So, don’t do it for House Avarda, do it for me. If you become the champion of the arena, I promise to free you. You can become the captain of my forces. And there would be other benefits.”
The way she shifted as she spoke left no doubt in Kyle’s mind what those ‘other benefits’ would be. It was an obvious honey trap and yet he couldn’t seem to take his eyes off of her. She was absolutely gorgeous and if anything, he felt like there was an even greater beauty lying beneath. It was like she was wearing a veil that hid her true desirability.
“I thought slaves could not be freed,” Kyle said.
“True, but you don’t consider yourself a slave. I told you, we can define our relationship however we want. I just want you to bind yourself to me. Call yourself free, call yourself a slave, I care not—I just want you to be mine. Titles and names mean little to me. I can even give you the little slave girl you asked Lash to have me purchase. Most anything can be yours, with my funds. Just think of what we can do, if my resources and your might work together. All you need do is bind yourself to me,” Meeka said and as she did so, she stood up, walked around the table, and deposited herself into his lap.
Kyle could feel the warmth of essence seeping out of her. She was a gorgeous woman and her dress felt silky against his skin. His gladiator’s armor didn’t cover up a great deal, so there was plenty to feel. His mind felt muddled but then something broke through and caught his attention.
Out the window, in the vineyards, Kyle saw it—a flash of sunlight on metal.
Something wasn’t right. His dedication to always being able to react fed the portions of Krig inside of him and he responded instinctively. Spinning up out of the chair, he shifted his body to protect Meeka as an arrow shot through the window. He caught it on his pauldron and then turned the table on its side and pushed Meeka behind it as gently as he could.
“Stay down,” he ordered.
The arrow had done him no damage and he was glad that he’d been brought here straight from training, rather than without his armor. A second arrow flashed through the morning sunlight. He wasn’t as fast as Kierra and couldn’t pluck them out of the air, but still had no trouble twisting his body to the side so that the arrow missed him.
He wasn’t going to just stand there and be a target. Kyle rushed for the double doors leading onto the balcony, still carrying his chair in one hand. He fully intended to leap out the second story window and chase down the archer. It never occurred to him that he didn’t have a weapon or that he needed to summon his soulbound weapon. He just wasn’t very worried about a normal human archer. His training over the past few weeks, both at the arena and here, had instilled a supreme confidence in him when it came to battle related things. That was something which he had only ever felt about baseball, in the past.
Before he reached the windows though, two men scrambled up ropes tied to grappling hooks attached to the balcony and then flipped over the railing. Both landed with their feet in a fighting stance and pulled out a short sword, dagger combination.
Kyle laughed. They were pretty serious about killing Meeka. He wondered if it had something to do with the new gladiator team, but then pushed the thought out of his mind. Now was the time for battle.
Kyle used the chair as a weapon, swinging it at the man on the left. The blow came in hard and fast and, while the assassin managed to get his sword up in time to block it, it still sent him flying backwards into the wall. His second opponent was good enough that he didn’t hesitate. With Kyle’s torso still turned by the end of his swing, the man thrust out with his short sword.
Unfortunately for him, Kyle wasn’t just strong, but he was also fast.
Kyle rotated his hips and reversed his momentum to bring the chair back down onto the arm that was extended in a thrust. Bone and wood both cracked and then broke upon the impact. But Kyle didn’t stop there. The man’s pain and awkward positioning left him open. Kyle stepped up and batted away a feeble attempt to stab him with the dagger as he reached out and grabbed the assassin’s neck.
With a quick squeeze, he crushed the assassin’s windpipe. Kyle dropped him to the ground as he struggled for air that he couldn’t get. Not wanting to leave even a dying opponent behind him, Kyle finished the task with a stomp to the man's head, caving in his skull just as surely as any mace could have.
He then turned back towards the first assassin but found him slumped against the wall. The bright red spot against the marble where his head had impacted before he’d slid down demonstrated just how hard Kyle had hit him. After kicking his weapons away, Kyle leaned down and checked for a pulse. He confirmed the man was dead.
Lady Meeka had remained quite calm throughout the entire ordeal, but now she looked up at Kyle with a half-lidded gaze and said, “This is why I want to make you mine.”
Her face was flushed, and he could see she was trembling slightly—though with fear or excitement, he couldn’t decide. Some women on Earth had found his athleticism to be a big turn on. He supposed it wasn’t that hard to imagine that women on Verden would be turned on by watching men fight to the death.
Before he could respond, the hidden archer launched another arrow that caught Kyle in the stomach. He cursed the stupid gladiator armor that left his belly exposed, but more than that, he cursed himself for becoming distracted. The part of Krig inside of him felt like it was rolling over in its grave.
He snapped off the shaft sticking out from beside his belly button and ran straight off the balcony, flying a full fifty feet from the mansion to land in the vineyard. The pain of doing so with an arrowhead lodged in his gut was excruciating, but Kyle pushed the pain to the side. He wouldn’t let it slow him down.
Another arrow came at him and Kyle tried to bat it out of the air but missed. It sank into the meaty portion of his forearm. Still, the pain was not enough to stop him and he continued charging at the archer, who stood up to run.
That wasn’t gonna happen though. Kyle sent Earth Essence channeling through the ground and where the archer’s next foot fell suddenly became a goopy morass of soft earth. The archer was soon struggling and buried up to his waist, dragging down some of the vines the field was planted with into the morass with him.
Kyle approached slowly. “Stop struggling or I will crush you.”
Rather than say anything, the would-be assassin pulled out a small blade he had hidden in a sheath up between his shoulder blades. Instead of crushing him in the earth using essence, Kyle rushed for
ward to kick the man in the head before he could throw his weapon. But it turned out Kyle didn’t have anything to worry about. The man dragged the blade across his own throat. The severed jugular vein gushed out blood and Kyle watched as the archer breathed his last.
Chapter 4 - What Just Happened
Guards were soon swarming over Meeka’s office, the vineyard, and the estate in general. Kyle was surrounded and, while he could have fought them, they weren’t overtly hostile. They were simply sent to detain him. He assumed that would be fairly typical of a noble’s guards, especially after three assassins had just been killed.
They didn’t exactly glare at him, but they also were none too friendly. Hilde’s voice in his head pointed out the obvious, “They are nervous. You just did their job for them, protecting Lady Meeka. Now, they are probably worried about being reprimanded or worse.”
Kyle thought for a minute. This was not his forte, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that there was more going on here than he knew about. He simply responded with a grunt, “Maybe.”
Most of his focus was on observing the guards, their numbers, organization, how they moved, what weapons they carried. He took it all in. That is what a good ballplayer did—they got to know the other team.
He shook his head, ruefully. No, that wasn’t right; he was no longer the greatest ballplayer who had ever swung a bat. That ship had sailed shortly after he had been shot. Now, his mind needed to focus on becoming the greatest warrior possible.
Eventually, Kragen, the estate’s majordomo came up to him with Lash in tow. He spoke to the guards first, “You may release him. Lady Meeka confirmed his account of events.”
The guards all took a welcome step or two back.
The majordomo studied Kyle. “You are released to return to training with Lady Warbond. Lady Meeka has asked that I pass on her thanks to you. She wanted to do so in person, but I convinced her that the estate must be locked down, and that she should not appear in public… for now.”
The man bowed slightly to him. “Know though, that you have done a great service for House Avarda by saving the sole surviving member of the house. We will, of course, arrange an appropriate reward for you, but Lady Meeka insisted that I tell you that once things calm down, she will want to thank you personally—in a more intimate setting.”
Kyle didn’t say anything. He nodded at the man and then started to follow Lash back to their training facility. His eyes, however, were on the group of slaves he saw working to salvage the portion of the vines that had been damaged in the fields. The magenta hair he caught sight of was unmistakable. Even if she was in a new outfit of a house servant, it was obviously Nyda.
Lash followed his gaze and snapped, “Not now.”
“I just want to check on her.”
“She is doing well. I have been keeping tabs on her, in case this became an issue. I know you believe you can simply do as you wish—and maybe you can—but you certainly haven’t shown me enough power for that to be true. So perhaps, instead of worrying about how the elven slave is doing, you should be training,” Lash growled.
Kyle only grunted.
Hilde spoke in his mind, “The whore has a point. I thought we were here for you to train. Nyda is already yours for the taking. Now, we need to focus on seeing if you can turn how things with Lady Meeka turned out to your benefit. Mortal nobility are children playing at being grownups, but it might make things easier… at least in the short term.”
Without any further response, he walked back to the training hall. Inside, Kierra was running forms, Gilthan was sitting cross-legged and meditating, while Skrug pulled a sled behind him that was attached to him by thick chains and loaded with huge blocks of stone. Kyle just kept walking past each of them. Without a word, he headed for his room.
Behind him Lash called out, “We should spar now. Work off that anger you are feeling.”
He looked back at her over his shoulder. “That wouldn’t be safe for either of us. Right now, I need to meditate and focus through this.”
Again, he didn’t wait for a response but continued into his private room, where he sat on the floor. He started to breathe deeply and tried to focus. “Hilde, I need to figure this out. It’s time to progress further.”
He pulled up the character sheet that Hilde had made for him.
Name: Krig (Kyle Hudson/Warborn)
Race: Demi-god (War God/human)
Stats: (Current/Max)
Strength: 16/42
Agility: 10/42
Constitution: 15/45
Will: 11/45
Mind: 7/39
Charisma: 7/29
Essence: Current/Max
Air: 0/12
Death: 1/25 Conversion rate: 1/15 seconds
Sea: 0/12
Deceit: 1/13 Conversion rate: 1/15 seconds
Earth: 13/33 Conversion rate: 1/15 seconds (Durability)
War: 14/50 Conversion rate: 1/second
Raw Essence: 72,647
Skills:
Flowing Earth Armor 1 - 2 Earth
Earth’s Sucking Snare 1 - 1 Earth/target
Divine Ability:
Rage Burst 1 - 4 War
His progress had been inconsistent these past couple of weeks. Kyle was frustrated to have made no further increases in Strength or Constitution. In contrast, he had managed to push Agility up to the mortal peak, while interacting with his other team members had allowed him to increase his Charisma.
As far as his essences, War Essence and Earth Essence had both increased. He had also increased his raw essence by a considerable margin. Cooler though, was the new skill that showed.
Earth’s Sucking Snare: Softens the ground into a slurry that pulls the target into the ground and then holds them immobile.
If the target is not completely captured, movement rate is slowed by 50% for 6 seconds. Area of effect is a 10’ diameter per 1 Earth Essence.
Cost: 1 Earth Essence/target; may expend Essence to crush the ground
Duration: Up to 1 hour, varies based upon the strength of the target.
He still had so few abilities, that it was a major victory to gain a new spell or skill. Sucking Snare gave him another use for his Earth Essence, and a way to contain enemies. Smashing them with his tier two Strength was still the best way to deal with his foes, but it was good to have options.
Kyle started pushing the essence around in his wheel. He visualized each spoke. Most of the six spokes were still tiny. It was frustrating to have these other essences but not be able to do anything with them. He might not ever have been a big-time gamer, but he had played enough for that to chafe him.
“Are we going to talk about what happened today?” Hilde asked.
“I’m trying to focus,” Kyle replied.
“You can’t get yourself so worked up about Nyda—anymore than you can let your focus become me, Kierra, or even securing Meeka’s aid.”
“Then stop distracting me when I’m trying to focus on my channeling. I want to see if I can open my Death Essence. I killed three men just now, maybe that will give me the spark I need,” Kyle thought to her.
He stopped channeling for a minute. Something had just occurred to him that caused him to worry. “Wait, shouldn’t I be more upset about this? I just killed three men. Not monsters, people, and not by accident—I intended to kill them.”
“Well, to be fair, technically you only killed two of them. The third slit his own throat. Why should you be upset over the death of a mortal, and a foe at that?” Hilde asked.
“I don’t know. I guess I just thought that it would affect me more than this. But all I can think about, is how to turn this into a gain,” Kyle replied.
“As you should. You are the war god. You should exult in your victory, even if the challenge was rather trivial.”
Kyle sighed deeply. He couldn’t seem to bring himself to care, but there was a part of him that still said he should try. He didn’t know how sold
iers handled this in battle. Did they get upset when they had to kill someone? Or was it because it had happened in the heat of combat that he felt it was okay?
They had been trying to kill Meeka, and then him when he got in the way, after all. He wasn’t sure and didn’t like that feeling. Normally, he always had such a clear vision of what he needed to accomplish. Death and coming to Verden had obviously altered his plans, but now he was refocused.
He planned to master the powers that Krig had passed on to him, and from there, he was going to become not the best war god, but the best god. So, why was this bothering him so much?
He wasn’t sure. He knew there was no way he could achieve these goals without killing, yet he had never really thought about that part of it. Maybe he didn’t need to rationalize it. Either way, it was something he’d have to get used to, if he was going to move on from here.