Resolve III

"What 'I am'?"

His question rang rampant across the chamber, having no idea of what the stout man was talking about.

"Aye, boy." He sighed, as if about to inform him a terrible malady had befallen his body. "You are what we call… a Hand of God."

The fiery woman drew closer, her hand reaching for the bronze axe by her wide hips. "That means you are a living weapon, one that is unheard of. A danger to yourself and to others." 

The tall man spoke after her, laughing softly. "While It sounds fun, shuffling of your mortal coil. I will vehemently disagree with Hilde, for it is more fun to act as her foil."

Irwin felt like he was seeing a Macbeth-version of a comedy film. "I-I know what you mean, but… check me again. Since you know that Ch-God had touched me, then you'll know that I no longer have it."

His words brought a certain air of completeness to the chamber. The three figures paused their own thoughts and shared a look amongst themselves before their eyes glowed a different light.

He felt a sudden intrinsic repulsion emanating from within himself, having been familiar with their gazes as he had expelled them from the moment he awoke from his slumber. 

This time, however, he let them run amok, knowing full well that hiding anything from them when he was this relatively weak was seeking more danger than he ought to do.

"Spectacular." The tall man spoke first, a chuckle growling its way out of his mouth. "Saving you is quite entertaining and, dare I say, peculiar."

Hilde suddenly guffawed, gazing at the tall man with ridicule in her eyes. "Looks like you lost the damn bet, Gelmir."

The tall man, Gelmir, huffed away with an eyeful of ire at the stout man.

"That's enough." The stout man said. His gaze never left Irwin's form, an unreadable expression on his face. "Apologies, then. We forgot our manners. You may call me Hephaestus; I am but a humble blacksmith working commissions for the people around the mountain."

Hilde stood straighter, puffing on her chest. "You may call me Brumhilde. Hunter. Butcherer."

"And I am Thrudgelmir. You may call me Gelmir." Thrudgelmir took a light bow, showing off his bald head ridden with battle scars. "I forage the forest below and my favourite colour is yellow."

Irwin chuckled at their introductions before a hint of hesitation appeared on his face. "I, uh, I'm… my name is Irwin Bellios. I'm a witch apprentice, demon hunter, monster hunter, scion of the Greythorne Clan, and future saviour of humanity. Nice to meet you all and thank you for saving me!"

His bow startled Hephaestus as Irwin hid the flushed expression on his face, excitement coursing through his veins. He was in the presence of a god, an immortal, and a primordial giant, after all.

Although he knew that they were Demi-humans that used human worshipping as a battery for their powers, the warm and jovial aura they exuded and in such proximity caused him to have second thoughts about their kind.

'Maybe I'm being racist,' he thought, "If you don't mind me asking, where am I?"

Hephaestus cleared his throat, having been not accustomed to bows for a long time. "This is my abode. A foundry built upon the bones of the Mountain Guardian, where I forge tools and kits for the Coven."

Irwin tilted his head at the blacksmith's words. "Coven? Surely, you don't mean…"

"The Grand Coven is here." Hilde spoke gravely, resuming her fighting stance as she took out her bronze axe.

"Why worry, huntress?" Thrudgelmir chuckled as he walked towards the door to the hut. "It's not the first time I had to clean up thou own mess."

The miniscule giant opened the door, revealing a solemn figure who was mere moments away from knocking on the door. A tall woman with long auburn hair, a grey long-sleeved tunic, and a leather skirt, gave a warm smile as she bowed her angular head.

Thrudgelmir held the edge of the door, positioning himself as to barricade the Grand Coven from entering the hut. "I offer great apologies, witch. My dearest friend seemed to have slept on the sigil switch."

The witch pursed her lips as her eyes turned towards the part of the door where Thrudgelmir's large body had not blocked. Her smile turned a bit sour, but still maintained the expression, nonetheless.

"I see. Well, we best be going. It seems that you're entertaining a visitor." She said, bowing her head a little.

Thrudgelmir did not respond, merely waiting for her to turn around before closing the door without so much as a noise.

"The Grand Coven backed off… just like that?" Irwin couldn't help but ask as he returned to his stool and resumed his drinking.

Hephaestus shook his head. "No, they'll investigate why Hilde signalled for a witch brigade. The three of us on the same roof aren't something to be taken lightly."

Hilde snorted, crossing her arm as she joined Thrudgelmir beside the small table. "Not my fault you were a Hand of God and also not my fault that it's gone by the time they arrived."

Thrudgelmir laughed uproariously, finding the situation more humorous than the other two. "Eh, it's not like the High Priestess likes us very much. Besides, we could always destroy their little cult whenever we feel like it."

Hilde scoffed, "No, you can't. Who are you bragging about?"

"Yes, I can." The giant responded too defensively.

Hilde smirked. "You can barely get out of bed."

"That'll be enough." Hephaestus sighed once more, halting the argument between the two. "It has been a while since a visitor graced this far-off mountain. Tell me... how did you come here?"

Irwin unconsciously clenched his fists, "I... Dagon, she burned me."

"The Prince of Hell?" Thrudgelmir asked, shocked by his words.

"Yes." Irwin answered.

"That's terrible news for us," Hephaestus said, gazing at his companions. "But... the forefathers of old, albeit corrupted by now, have always stuck to their honor." 

"As they should." Brunhilde gazed at Hephaestus with an unmistaken gleam.

Hephaestus sighed, turning towards Irwin with grim acceptance. "Irwin, you are in our care during the duration of your visit. However, many things in life are not free. Your powers have granted us healing, both external and internal, which paid off the debt you have with I and Gelmir. Hilde, on the other hand, had no hand in saving your burnt body, yet took part in the revitalization process."

Hilde interrupted his words, nodding at Irwin with a solemn expression. "My honour binds me to be at service."

The blacksmith held out his hands, which Irwin took as he removed himself from the bed, unsteady feet running through the hayfield floor. "Now, what do you offer us, Gelmir and I, in exchange for our service and protection?"

Irwin's mind ran through a number of possibilities, fragments of recent memories eclipsing through some simulations and reminded him of what was important.

Keeping his words.

He checked his system and what he had up to offer. He had 238 credits, as he had bought–and subsequently lost–an Angel's blade and the Scattering Wind spell.

But what he needed now was something to help him to rescue Charlotte and bringing about the destruction of Dagon's island as revenge for torturing them.

"I am… a master of procurement." He began by explaining his abilities, albeit turned into a metaphorical instead of literal skill. "Ask for an item and I shall have it for you by the end of this day. If not, then an item with a similar value or effect. No matter how rare or big or dangerous it is."

He let his words sink through, having used a calm and confident voice to provide assurance that he was not, in any way, kidding. 

The trio shared a look amongst themselves with a hint of incredulity in their eyes before silently contemplating his offer.

It was Hilde who spoke first, hesitation in her first words before it vanished in the second. "I… I would like for my belt to be returned."

"A belt?" Irwin's brows furrowed in confusion. "What, uh, what belt?"

"It was a leather belt with a golden border sewn by my sister. It had a lion's head as a buckle, maw open, as if roaring to the world that it was a danger to everyone. It had two loose holes, destroyed when I was astride a horse on my way to Isenstein. I lost it when I ran away from my kingdom. Can you acquire it?" Her words flowed like rainwater, eyes glazed as if remembering the days where she had not needed to hide behind mountains and forest.

Irwin was at a loss for words. He thought that they would be asking for rare metals, swords, or flower ingredients, but he did not expect for her to get sentimental.

Still, he checked his Trade Shop and hoped that the item was present.

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▪︎ Armors & Mystical Items

▪︎ Weapons

▪︎ Spells & Rituals

▪︎ Flora & Fauna

▪︎ Potions

▪︎ Materials

▪︎ System Consumables

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[ Armors & Mystical Items ]

▪︎ Torso

▪︎ Upper Limbs

▪︎ Lower Limbs

▪︎ Head

■■

As he no longer had the ability to ask the system to search a specific item using keywords, he had to make do with telepathic filters to weed out the non-essentials. He started with the Torso categories, thinking that a belt would be an armour for the body.

He resisted the urge to click on the multitudes of armour, some boasting names to be powerful enough to contend against archangel attacks. He did, however, find a girdle with her name on it, or at least what he thought her name was.

■■

▪︎Brumhilde's Girdle▪︎

Price: 150 Credits

Type: Cursed Artefact

Prerequisite: Can only be worn by a married woman, a jilted engaged woman, or a widow. 

Effect: Once equipped, the wearer's strength, stamina, and vitality doubles and instantly becomes accustomed to the changes in the wearer's body. In exchange, the user will experience agonising pain throughout their body and suffocate to the point of near death for five minutes every day.

■■

He hid the surprise and dread from reading the effects of the artefact, softly touching his neck and feeling the soft skin underneath all the short rubble.

He gazed at Hilde, a soft smile on his face. He was wearing a dark tunic and long skirt, his old clothing having been burned and discarded by the demons during the torture.

Seeing as they were used to magiking, he merely waved his hands and so appeared Brunhilde's Girdle. From the lion buckle to the destroyed holes, the belt, worn from centuries of disuse, looked the same as she had described, except for a dark, almost fanatical energy held within.

"Is this your belt?" He asked, handing it out for her touch.

Hilde had her mouth open in astonishment, eyes trembling under the glint of the rust lion buckle. She caressed the rough leather as she clutched the end tightly, her face screaming with repressed memories and unending suffering.

From what he knew of her story, Hilde had been a political bride and offered by his father to strengthen his family. She would die by the end of the story, having killed either her husband or her husband's brother or both.

He gazed at her unkempt yet clean neck and deduced that she had left her kingdom before being beheaded. It must be why she was still alive, he thought, gaining immortality by not finishing her story.

He looked at the other two, who had had varying expressions between them, most of which were of disbelief and hope.

He knew how dangerous it would be, but he also knew how powerful they were. If they had yet to succumb to the allure of his soul, then it meant they were more in control than their brethren were. Plus, it was not like he would be working with them in the long-run, just one mission.

An important mission, one that would even guarantee their lives. He just needs to find their weak spots and gain a leverage. 

"I know we just met, but I'm familiar with all of your prowess being gods of old... If you could help me with my vengeance, then I promise–no, I vow–to procure whatever item you need in the days to come. What say you?"