17

Normally this would be the part where I would be terrified of what was to come. But looking around at the Darkheart men using the slave wagons as protection, I was instead feeling… a little anticipation.

These people deserved to die.

The tricky part was going to be how to get the soldiers killed but not the slaves. I was putting a lot of faith in Ihka and Nira to that end.

Ihka seemed to think all I needed to do was sit here and wait - which I was fine with.

Or at least, I was fine with it. There were a few other goals on my mind now.

One of them was sitting right in front of me, barely ten feet away. This was the man who deserved to die the most, at least in my book.

He was sitting beside another soldier, meticulously biting off the final scraps of meat on a bone.

I could hear the man next to him. He was a portly man, dual wielding bone handles with plenty of succulent meat still unconsumed. The portly man was chatting with my mark while eating.

"Did you hear? The others have been saying one of the Mamoei might be a Remnant." The portly man came across mild mannered - which was unique among the humans I'd seen so far. Most were lean and vicious looking, the type to kill first and ask questions later. Still, the fact that he chose this man as a conversation partner betrayed his true nature.

"Bullshit. There hasn't been a Remnant around here for months. Hell, maybe years." The man grumbled, spitting out of a shard of bone.

The portly man chuckled, taking a big bite of meat. Not even waiting to finish chewing his mouthful, he said, "That's what I said! But Arbary is convinced he recognizes it."

"Oh?" The man lowered the bone from his mouth. He seemed interested now. "Arbary was sent south to Mamo during the war if I remember correctly."

The portly man nodded, "Right…" He swallowed and leaned slightly closer to the man, "Do you think it's true then?"

He shrugged, "We can go ask it."

The portly man laughed and stood up, "I was hoping you'd say that!"

The man stood as well and followed the portly man towards one of the wagons on the far side of the circle.

I followed them.

When they arrived, another soldier was already standing in front of the wagon.

"-st be hard right? Living on while your entire village is dead?" The soldier was addressing a solitary Mamoei male who looked to be about twenty-five years old by human standards.

He was ridiculously good looking too - I didn't even need to see his eyes to know they'd only enhance that image. I wasn't sure what my own face looked like yet, but still couldn't help but sigh ruefully.

When I walked up, the Mamoei man opened his eyes and glanced at me for just a moment, then looked at the soldier who had been taunting him. His eyes were a lustrous sheen of gold and shone brightly, reflecting the light from the campfires. Even his ragged wardrobe and the silver chain around his neck couldn't hinder his dignity.

'He just looked at me, right?' I stopped. I was going to get closer, but I changed my mind. Just like I thought, his eyes enhanced his good looks, and it was worse than I thought. I even considered marking him as an enemy.

The Mamoei man smirked, "My people died with honor. If you remember, there were only one hundred and three of us in my village. Remind me, human, how many of you died that day?"

The soldier's face turned red. He was about to argue, when my mark clasped a hand over his shoulder and laughed, "Arbary, you look like you swallowed a Juju! Hah!"

Arbary looked at him and frowned. "This is none of your business, Jean. Fuck off."

Jean's laughter died down, but he kept smiling, "Don't mind me, I just came to take a look. Is this thing the Remnant you spoke of?"

Arbary slapped Jean's hand off his shoulder, "That's right."

Jean rubbed his wrist, I could practically see the violent thoughts swirling in his mind, but he held back. Turning to face the Mamoei, Jean narrowed his eyes.

"You-"

The piercing sound of something tearing through the night sky cut off Jean's next words.

I recognized the noise.

It was the signal.

Nira's arrow pierced violently into the portly man's head. The force of the impact caused his head to explode, sending gore spraying in all directions.

The camp descended into silence for a moment, then exploded in fury.

The soldiers all jumped to their feet, reaching for their helmets and weapons. One of them - probably their leader - shouted simple commands, "On your feet! Now! The attack came from the north! Move in pairs, fan out, and find them!"

The soldiers were quick, and within seconds - they were gone.

A lone man remained standing illuminated by the campfire. Well, two if you count me.

The leader scanned the wagons with vigilance. He knew the slaves were probably the real target.

I cursed him for making things difficult on me. I didn't have time to wait around, if the signal came - it meant the Arkos was close.

If we were lucky, the soldiers would slow it down - but I couldn't count on that.

I had to make my move. I just wasn't sure I was going to like the result.

In the hours I spent following the caravan, it was this part of the plan I was dreading the most. The part where I might have to kill someone. I spent those hours trying to convince myself that it must be done.

The argument was sound. People killed each other throughout history, even on Earth - and it was even more common here in this new world. It was kill or be killed. You had to survive to be a winner. To earn your peace. Not to mention the Darkhearts had proven themselves subhuman.

I thought I had convinced myself wholeheartedly, but now that the moment was here - I hesitated.

Holding a small black knife in my hand, I circled around the man while keeping to the shadows. Soon, the moment presented itself. I found myself staring at the back of the leader's head.

A nameless man. I thought of his family, his friends.

But I knew his voice.

This was the man who had shouted back at Jean after the girl collapsed.

I lifted my arm.

This was no man.

And dropped it. The knife left my hand and disappeared. When it reappeared, it was already planted in the back of his head.

[Damage Dealt - 186. Critical Hit! Enhancement Triggered - Shadow Strike.]

[You have slain Caravan Leader Goeven Darkheart! EXP gained: 250]

'This knife and cloak are insane together.' I marveled at the damage. It was way above my own power, boosted to such great heights through the virtues of enhancements. The critical hit doubled my base damage with the knife from thirty one to sixty two, and Shadow Strike tripled that. Shadow Strike supposedly tripled any damage dealt from obscurity - and thanks to the cloak erasing my presence, the enhancement was guaranteed. It was extremely overpowered, and I loved it.

Ihka had given me a brief lesson on the throwing knife for this moment, and it paid off. A perfect assassination.

'Too bad I can't keep the cloak.'

I watched the man fall forward and felt a little sick, but I gritted my teeth and forcefully suppressed my thoughts. There wasn't time to wallow in guilt, nor was I sure that I should feel guilty. Right - there were perfect examples all around me as to why he deserved to die.

I looked around… and the slaves were all staring at me.

I exhaled, 'Time for part three.' and moved quickly.

Approaching the leader, I kneeled down and retrieved the black knife - then began searching his body for the key to free the slaves. It didn't take long before I found it, tucked away inside his armor - dangling from a rope wrapped around his neck along with a small pouch of familiar black coins.

I took them both.

Scanning the wagons, I found my target.

The Mamoei man stared as I ran up to his wagon.

"Truly unexpected." He commented as I inserted and turned the key - opening the door to his wagon.

He held out his hands, which were shackled together by some unknown metal contraption.

I looked into his golden eyes for a moment, then inserted the key and freed his hands - one of which he held out, palm up.

"Give me the key, I'll take care of the rest. You have somewhere to be, yes?" He smirked.

I was surprised. 'If I didn't know any better, I would think he was in on this.'

Still, I sighed and nodded - handing him the key. "Thanks."

I wasn't done here yet, but he was right - I couldn't stay near the slaves.

I turned and looked to the north, in the direction I had seen Jean and Arbary run off.

'Time to go.'

It was time for the finale.

***

I made my way out of the camp and into the veil of darkness.

"Tra'ma." I recited the Vir'il for Trace.

Using Trace at night was quite spectacular. It almost worked like night vision, as blue Mana replaced darkness in the air which highlighted the remaining black shapes of Ek trunks and the ground below. The world looked dark and mystical - which accompanied by the refreshing feeling of Mana flowing through my eyes, made me feel something more. Like I had truly transcended humanity.

I quite liked the feeling.

I scanned the air, which was full of flowing streams of Mana. I couldn't tell which was which, but it didn't really matter. I only needed to follow the pair of streams in front of me.

Once I had direction, I ran - heart pounding nervously as I knew what I was running towards.

It didn't take long before I heard the piercing scream of a man ring out from up ahead - followed by a cacophony of low rumbling thunder and high-pitched shrieking.

I gulped. 'This is it.'

I still needed to get closer.

As I walked forward along the road, I began to make out a giant black silhouette in the gloom. Eight humans carrying torches surrounded it in a half-circle. I could tell all six Dusksworn were present by the lone black swords gripped in their hands. It seemed they were trying to fight the Arkos.

I chuckled dryly. 'Idiots.'

This was as close as I was going to get.

The more Darkhearts the Arkos disposed of, the better. I just needed to make sure I was the next target.

I didn't know how many soldiers the Arkos had already devoured, but all six Dusksworn were present. That's what was important.

Suddenly, one of the soldiers turned and ran.

"Idiot! The Arkos has your scent! You'd rather die alone?!" The other soldier shouted at the deserter. I recognized his voice - it was Jean.

It seemed he was a lot less cowardly than he was a good person. I had to admit, it took a lot of courage to stand and fight that monstrosity.

Speaking of the Arkos, its 'head' was raised high up in the air, curved forward in an arc. It was shrieking in what I swear was gleeful laughter.

What I saw next, I would never forget for the rest of my life.

The Arkos… split open. A seam running down the middle of the raised portion of its body cut apart, opening up wide like a diabolic cobra hood. The jagged teeth that had circled its putrid maw were now sprawled out across its kite-like silhouette. There were thousands of them.

Jean had been courageous before, but now he was probably wishing he had followed his companion. In fact, even the Dusksworn turned to run.

None of them got far though.

In a sickening feat of utter horror, thousands of jagged teeth shot from the Arkos - and into the bodies of the unfortunate humans.

They all died.

'Ah.' I stared at Jean's body, feeling disappointed he had died so quickly.

The Arkos raised its body a few feet higher, and let out a terrifying shriek of triumph.

'Okay yea, no - I'm out. To hell with the plan.'

I turned to run.

As I turned, the whistle of an arrow suddenly appeared from my right - sailing over my head. I gritted my teeth, but didn't hesitate - I looked in the direction the arrow came from - and ran towards it.

The arrow had caught the attention of the Arkos too. As we both made our way in that direction, an excited shriek followed by thundering footfalls signaled the Arkos had detected my presence.

"Fea'dan," I hurriedly spoke the Vir'il for Weight Reduction as I ran.

When my weight suddenly cut in half, my speed instantly shot up. I was running like my life depended on it - like usual, because it did. I burst past the tree line and into the forest, searching for a certain shadow. I had ten seconds to find it.

'They said run straight.' I recalled. Luckily, Ihka was a lot better at planning than Nira - or I would never have agreed to this insanity.

Five seconds later, with the Arkos hot on my tail - I spotted it.

A mound of mutilated flesh and bone - the bodies of the Horlir.

Ihka and Nira were responsible for transporting them here. How they did it, I didn't have the privilege of witnessing.

Sprinting towards the mound, I dove over it as my Mana fell dangerously low. I rolled in exhaustion, deactivating Weight Reduction as I made for my final destination - a patch of long azure grass that glowed with an eerie white aura. According to Ihka, the meatpile would be arranged close to it - and sure enough, here it was.

The Arkos practically crashed into the mound of Horlir flesh, instantly forgetting about my presence as if it had found its favorite snack in the world.

Once I was within the safety of the grass, I took deep labored breaths, trying to quietly claim enough oxygen to catch my breath. I stared in wondrous horror at the scene of the Arkos feasting just ten feet away.

'Think happy thoughts.' I thought, trying to calm myself.

Looking down at the bodies of the Horlir, I remembered the events from earlier today.

We had split their Manarts evenly amongst the three of us. Three each.

I laughed quietly despite the situation when I remembered Nira's spiel.

She had come up with no less than eleven reasons why she should get more than three Manarts. The drool leaking from the corner of her mouth during her speech created an extremely comical contrast. Hell, we almost agreed. In the end though, Nira relented and reluctantly parted with six of 'her' precious Manarts.

Looking at the glowing grass around me, I couldn't help but notice their strong scent. They smelled… well, minty. It seemed fitting given their appearance, but I had been expecting something much less pleasant from the way Ihka described it. According to her, the grass was common once you came this far south - which was why the Arkos typically stuck to the north. The Arkos loathed the minty scent, as did Ihka apparently.

The Paruven Capital relied on the protection of the grass to thrive in safety - far removed from the terror of the Arkos.

A minute later, the Arkos finished devouring the Horlir. The scene of its feast was a mess of shredded earth and remnant gore.

It raised its body back into the air, twisting around as if looking for something - then noticed the grass patch. It shrieked in what I could only assume was disgust, then rotated its massive body and swiftly made its way back towards the road.

'The Darkheart's bodies.' I realized.

All that gear… wasted.

I sighed with regret.

Soft footsteps soon became audible as Nira's voice called out in the dark, "Good job."

I turned to look at her then chuckled and shook my head, "Thanks. Let's never do that again."

She smiled, "It wasn't that bad."

My lips twitched, "Speak for yourself."

Nira stopped next to me, twisting her nose in disgust and said, "Let's go, I hate the smell of this stuff."

She held out her hand - which I grabbed - and pulled me up.

I looked south, "Do you want to go with them?" I glanced at Nira.

She shook her head.

"No."

I raised an eyebrow. "You sure?"

She nodded. "I still owe you."

I rolled my eyes, "You really don't-"

"Let's go say goodbye first." She cut me off.

"Okay." I relented.

'Maybe Ihka can convince her.' I wasn't sure if I wanted her to leave, but I did think it was in her best interest.