A Demon's Quest the Beginning of the End the Trilogy Box Set

by Charles Carfagno Jr.

  “Very good; let’s take a break, and then we’ll continue.”

  Teacher Ma walked away, thinking he was right behind him, then he heard the crisp sound of Jacko’s clothing in motion, indicating he was still practicing. Ma smiled proudly and left without turning around.

  While Jacko trained, Ma constructed various exercises to strengthen his fingers for the next part of his session. He found a hollowed out wooden stump and packed it down hard with dirt. Next, he hung a thick branch several feet in the air between two trees. Finally, he produced a strange-looking round rock, known as Hollow Stone, from his bag. Despite its small size and light weight, the surface was virtually impossible to crack. Ma thought back to his first teacher and when he told him if he trained every day, he would be able to crack the surface eventually. The old man’s lie served a purpose, though, because after many years hitting it, his fingers became so strong he could puncture many other surfaces. When he was ready, he brought Jacko over to the area and guided him to the stump.

  “The next part of your training will be devoted to strengthening your finger. The first exercise I want you to practice is plunging your fingers into the dirt. Keep at it until I tell you to stop.” Teacher Ma walked away and sat under a tree to smoke his pipe.

  Jacko complied until Ma thought that it was long enough and then walked him over to the hanging branch.

  “Now, I want you to hang from the branch by just your fingers and pull yourself up until you pass the branch with your chin. Repeat this until I tell you to stop. You won’t be able to do many, so stop if you need to.”

  Jacko did as he was instructed and rested several times during the exercise. Eventually, Teacher Ma put down his pipe and escorted him over to the third and hardest exercise, known only as the Rock.

  “This exercise is by far the toughest exercise. You have to hit the surface with intent like you want to crack it. You shouldn’t be able to right now, so do your best and try not to break your fingers.”

  Jacko hit the surface until he was told to stop. His fingers were black and blue but despite the excruciating pain, he didn’t say a word, which pleased his teacher.

  Ma escorted Jacko back to their camp and had him lean against a tree to soak his fingers in a bowl filled with reddish liquid. When he looked up again, his student was already asleep. About an hour later, Ma removed Jacko’s hands from the bowl, coated a greenish ointment over his fingers, and then wrapped them tightly in cloth to help heal them.

  Over the next four days, Jacko continued his training in both the Three Finger and the blocking techniques, and was pleased with his progress. Teacher Ma was equally impressed, and gave him a set of finger knives and proudly showed him how to employ them properly. Jacko was taught how to stab objects simultaneously and then use leverage to throw it sideways, backward, and over his head. Ma couldn’t remember another student he’d taught who achieved this level of skill in this short amount of time.

  Around midday on the ninth day, a tall, heavy set stranger dressed in black garb entered the camp, interrupting their afternoon meal. Teacher Ma recognized him at once, stood up, and greeted him with a slight bow.

  “Jacko, I need to talk to this gentleman in private. Continue your training and I’ll return shortly,” Ma said and walked away.

  After they left, Jacko did as he was told and went back to the training area and continued practicing.

  Several hours later, Teacher Ma returned alone, and Jacko could see that something was wrong. He tried to talk to him, but Ma kept the communication light, and wouldn’t elaborate on who or what the man wanted. Jacko took the hint and left him undisturbed for the remainder of the day. During dinner, both men exchanged very little dialogue, and Ma left immediately after he was finished. Jacko knew there was something on his mind, and realized that he wasn’t going to share it with him anytime soon. He meditated and walked around the perimeter of their camp until he became tired enough to sleep.

  When morning arrived, Teacher Ma was talkative once again, and trained Jacko even more intensely than before. Jacko learned advanced blocking and Three Finger techniques, and everything appeared to be back to normal until the same stranger appeared again. When Teacher Ma saw him, he excused himself from the session, and both men left for another private meeting.

  Twenty minutes later, curiosity finally got the better of him, and Jacko decided to follow them in hopes of discovering what was going on. Cautiously, he followed the path north, and found them a half mile up the road where both men were conversing animatedly. Jacko crouched down and crept closer until he could hear their discussion.

  “…he owes them,” the stranger was saying.

  “That was a long time ago,” Ma countered, clearly agitated.

  “It doesn’t matter; they still want retribution for his actions,” the stranger pleaded. “Just meet with them and I am sure everything will work out.”

  “Meet with them? That’s a joke. Give them a message for me.” Ma’s tone was firm and was backed with anger. “Tell them they took their payment three years ago, and I or my family will not be strong-armed.”

  “Are you certain about this?” The stranger sounded concerned.

  “I am,” Ma asserted. Jacko could see the rage in his eyes.

  “Very well. I’ll give them your message, but I don’t think they’ll like it.”

  “I don’t care anymore,” Ma spat in disgust.

  The stranger bowed and parted company. Ma sat down on an old log and placed his head into his hands. Jacko quietly returned to the clearing and waited.

  A few hours later when Teacher Ma didn’t return, Jacko walked back to the meeting area and found the place deserted. He walked around, searching for clues, and accidentally stumbled upon a light trail of blood leading toward the west. His facial expression changed from worry to fear, then determination when he decided to follow the trail. Preoccupied with the task, he only realized that a crossbow bolt narrowly missed his head when he heard it strike a nearby tree.

  Instinctively, he dropped to the ground just as more bolts pelted the surrounding trees. Jacko crawled behind a big oak several feet away as he was heard grunts of frustration from the attackers followed by their heavy footfalls coming in his direction. Nervously, he rose up and cautiously peered out from behind the tree and saw five humanoids, wearing red and black tunics with the cowls pulled tightly around their faces to disguise their features. They carried crude short swords in their right hands, and a unique crossbow strapped to their left arm. The weapon, though he’d never seen it before, was clearly used for close range attacks. Franticly, he placed the finger knives securely around his fingers, and turned around, pressing his back against the tree.

  “Give yourself up,” one of the creatures hissed, then snorted like a pig.

  Jacko could tell from the sound of his raspy voice that he was a Chatar, half-man and half-boar, and was directly on the other side of the tree.

  Jacko was about to move to another tree when he saw an extended arm with a loaded crossbow suddenly appear on his right. Jacko immediately grabbed the limb with his left hand and pulled violently forward, knocking his assailant off balance and into his waiting finger knives. Jacko shoved his knives under the attacker’s chin and pushed his head upward. Blood gushed out of the wound and poured down Jacko’s arm. Behind him, a branch snapped in two.

  Instead of running or turning around, Jacko dropped into a crouch just in time, as a bolt whizzed by his head and struck the falling Chatar. He quickly turned around and rolled toward his new foe as he was in the process of reloading his crossbow, and stabbed him repeatedly in the stomach, tearing through his armor and splitting his flesh apart, spilling his innards onto the ground. The creature squealed loudly before dying, which Jacko was sure alerted his other companions to his location.

  Without waiting, Jacko scurried behind another tree and almost ran into another Chatar. Both were equally surprised, but the Chatar was the first to react and swung his blade at his foe. Jacko count
ered by shifting his body backward, resulting in his clothing taking the brunt of the slice. The creature pressed his assault by swinging his weapon continuously at Jacko; however, the kung fu artist was quicker and evaded several attacks, creating false openings, until his arm was exposed and received a quick slice by Jacko. The Chatar dropped his weapon, reached for his dagger, but before he could remove it, Jacko stepped in and plunged both sets of knives into his chest, in one motion pushing his arms upward and falling backward, flipping the Chatar over his body.

  Jacko heard more footsteps coming and hid behind another tree and peered around. Two more Chatar appeared and stopped when they saw their dead comrades. One began reloading his crossbow while the other bent down to check his friend’s pulse. If Jacko was going to get the jump on them, now was the time to do so. He emerged from behind the tree and when he was positioned directly behind the one reloading his weapon, he charged him. The Chatar heard him, turned, and fumbled with his weapon. Jacko kicked him in the stomach to double him over, grabbed the back of his neck, and kneed him in the face, knocking him out. Meanwhile, the other Chatar prematurely fired his weapon and missed. In the next instant, Jacko was on him. As he was in the process of unsheathing his backup sword, Jacko sliced him across the throat, severing his artery. He wanted answers, so he unarmed the unconscious Chatar, tied him to a tree with his own rope, and began slapping him across the face until he woke up. The beast carefully opened his eyes and snorted several times.

  “Who are you?” Jacko commanded. The creature just stared at his captor. “I said who are you?!” Jacko grew impatient and placed his daggered fingers against the prisoner’s throat in an aggressive manor. “Talk.”

  After a few more moments of silence, the captive finally spoke. “My name is Tunk from the Tusk tribe.”

  “What are you doing in this area? Your kind usually stays to the north.”

  The creature went silent again and Jacko pressed the sharp knives against his throat harder, drawing a small bead of blood in the process. Tunk flinched in discomfort, snorted, then spoke.

  “We were hired to capture your human companion and bring him to our camp.”

  “Who hired you?” Jacko pressed.

  “They’re known only to us as the Three Lords.” The Chatar stared defiantly at Jacko.

  “Why?”

  “I don’t know. We were just told to get him.”

  “Where are they?” Jacko demanded.

  “You’ll find them farther to the west, but I don’t think you should go there if you want to live.” Behind his back, Tunk produced a short blade from within his sleeve and began cutting through his restraints without the Jacko’s knowledge.

  “How many are in this camp?”

  “Twenty, not including the Three Lords. Human, they will hunt you down and make you pay for what you did to my comrades and me.”

  Jacko stood up and smiled. “They won’t have to hunt for me, because I’m going to them. Will you attack me if I untie you?”

  “No, I promise.”

  “Hmm, maybe you can help me free my friend instead. How does that sound?”

  Tunk nodded. “How?”

  “I’m not sure yet.”

  Tunk knew that he couldn’t do what this human was asking. They would kill him on the spot. He continued cutting through the ropes.

  Jacko picked up a crossbow handgun. “Is this weapon hard to master?”

  “No, I can teach you if you untie me.”

  Jacko strapped the weapon to his right wrist. “I like this. Where did you get it?”

  Just as Jacko was in the process of loading the weapon, Tunk finished cutting through the rope and charged him. If it weren’t for his quick reaction and sidestepping the much bigger foe, Jacko would’ve ended up on his back and pinned to the ground, but instead, he used the Chatar’s weight against him and tripped him to the ground.

  Before he could get up, Jacko was top of him, trying to press the finger knives against his throat while the Chatar held his arm, trying to prevent the blades from getting near the source of his lifeblood. They both struggled against the other, neither getting the edge.

  “If I let you get up, will you attack me again?” Jacko asked.

  “No. I’ll leave.”

  Jacko stared into his eyes. “Are you sure?”

  Tunk nodded rapidly.

  “Okay.”

  Jacko relaxed his arm and as soon as the Chatar loosened his grip, he pushed the knives into his throat until he choked on his blood and died. He knew he couldn’t trust him; if Tunk got another opportunity, he didn’t think he would’ve been lucky a second time. Jacko rested for a few minutes before loading a quiver with a dozen bolts and taking off west in search of Teacher Ma.

  ****

  It was nearing nightfall when he came upon a brightly lit camp and the sound of drinking and carousing. He paused to make sure there weren’t guards in the area and continued on, cautiously using trees and shrubbery for cover. He passed a few small groups of Chatars, but they were drunk and laughing so loud they didn’t see or hear him. A little further in, he came upon three figures bathed in the glow of their private fire engaged in conversation. They were strangely comprised of a human dressed in leather, a fox with an eye patch over his left eye dressed in banded mail, and a Hurnol—half-goat and half-human—dressed in chainmail.

  This is a night full of surprises, he thought. First, the Chatar creatures from the north and now three different races sitting together when normally they despise each other.

  Jacko continued to scan the camp and suddenly spotted Teacher Ma at the far end. He was blindfolded, tied to a tree, and his face and clothes were covered in blood. The sight of his teacher angered him to the point that he stood up, and just as he was about to rush into the camp, he was hit in the back of his head and knocked unconscious.

  ****

  “Humans are so pathetic; no wonder why their days are numbered.”

  “Curb your tongue, Fraon, or I’ll show you just how wretched we really are,” the human opposed the goat hybrid.

  Jacko woke up during their heated argument, opened his eyes slightly, and remained motionless.

  “Will the both of you quit your bickering? I’m growing weary of it,” the fox chimed in.

  “What do we do with him?” Fraon asked, pointing to Teacher Ma.

  “We hold him until Grayson arrives,” the human responded.

  “Can we torture him some more?” the fox creature asked slyly.

  “Sure, as long as we don’t kill him,” the human answered, then laughed heartily.

  “What about the other one?”

  “I haven’t ruled yet. Fraon, go wake him and let’s ascertain what he’s doing sneaking around our camp.”

  The goat walked over and placed one hand securely around Jacko’s throat, slapping him with the other. Jacko resisted one agonizing whack from him, then acted like he just woke up.

  “Good,” he snarled, “you’re awake.” Fraon walked away, and the human took his place.

  During this time, Ma continued to work on his restraints while the others were preoccupied with Jacko, and even though he was a specialist in the art of escape, his stomach wound painfully hindered his progress.

  “Let me introduce myself and my associates. My name is Norco, the Hurnol goes by the name of Fraon, and the fox is called Slyantom. What are you doing here, boy?”

  Jacko looked deep into the man’s eyes. “I have come for Teacher Ma.”

  “Who, him?” Norco glanced at Ma. “What did you think you would do, come in here and take on not one, but all three of us? That’s a good one.” He smirked. “Did you hear this guy? He says he came here to rescue the scum.” Fraon, Slyantom, and Norco laughed. “And how are you going to rescue him now that you’re all tied up?” Again all they laughed.

  “What has he done?” Jacko asked firmly.

  “Well, let just say his father owes a debt of blood to our boss, and hasn’t fully paid up.”

  “
Then why not go after his father?”

  “Good question, boy, but frankly, it’s none of your business.” The furry-faced Slyantom walked over and presented the handgun crossbow to Norco. “Take a look at this,” he said slyly.

  Norco grabbed the weapon and looked at Jacko “Where did you get this?” He thrust the weapon in front of his face.

  “I found it about four miles back among a group of dead Chatar.”

  Norco acted as if he were turning away, then suddenly backhanded Jacko in the face. In the next instant, blood seeped out of the corner of his mouth. “You’d better be telling me the truth. Slyantom, bring me the rest of his weapons and then go look for the scouting party.”

  Slyantom strapped on two swords to his back and left with the Chatar creatures. Norco curiously studied the finger knives and then turned away and joined Fraon. Jacko knew his fate was sealed as soon as Slyantom returned; his captors would know immediately that he was the killer due to their injuries.

  ****

  Another hour slipped away before Ma finally loosened his bonds enough to escape. As he tried to rise, he felt lightheaded from the loss of blood and slumped back down. He hoped that his captors didn’t see him, but that wish fell to the wayside when Fraon glanced at him and walked over to investigate.

  Jacko watched things unfold and knew that any chance of escape would have to come from Teacher Ma. If his captors discovered what he was doing, they would kill him. Without thinking, he insulted Fraon, catching his and Norco’s attention. They looked at him.

  Fraon raised his pike in a threatening manner. “What did you say, human?”

  “I said your race is a mistake, and should be eradicated.”

  Fraon pulled back his pike, about to hurl the weapon, when Ma rose up and struck him in the back of the head, using the Iron Palm technique. The loud impact snapped his neck and shattered his skull, catching Norco’s attention. The thief threw a dagger at Ma and hit him in the left arm. Ignoring the pain, Ma was on the thief in the next instant. Just as he was reaching for his sword, Ma hit him square in the chest with the Iron Palm. The forceful strike sent Norco stumbling backward until he tripped and fell onto the ground, spitting up blood. Ma raced over and continued the assault, striking his legs, arms, and face, breaking every major bone in his body. After he was finished, he stood over the broken, bloodied, and unrecognizable form of Norco, then pulled the dagger out of his arm with a quick jerk and stabbed him once in the heart. After he was dead, Ma approached Jacko and began cutting his restraints.