《Children of Nemeah (epic progression fantasy)》City of Nemeah - Chapter 8
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After relaying the request to the tavern-keeper, Siegfried left the small establishment— still in deep thought. Back in the narrow alley, a young woman let out a surprised gasp as he nearly walked into her.
"Sorry, miss, I wasn't looking where I was going," the equally surprised guard apologised. It was unusual for him to space out like that.
"Oh, 's not a problem, Sir Guard, nothin's happened," she answered with a heavy dialect, sounding as simple as she looked. From the brown linen tunic to the plain facial features, everything about her was unremarkable.
Save for the look of recognition in her eyes, that was. It was just a flash of change in her gaze that sparked with a degree of intelligence that betrayed her way of speaking.
Siegfried decided that he might just be overthinking things. After all, he wasn't in the best mental shape right now. Dismissing the short encounter, the guardsman continued walking for a few minutes until he stopped a second time.
Another unforeseen confrontation waited before him, but it would be much more dreadful than the last.
Standing with crossed arms, as if he had been waiting for someone, the man with the mirthless expression they saw earlier that day blocked the passage.
In the long, red mantle, he gave off a pressuring air of overwhelming finality. As if he impersonated the glowing red heat of the all-consuming fire that would swallow any heretic soul it came upon.
An enforcer.
"Siegfried, 'The Just'," the enforcer curled his lips to a snide grimace. "Isn't that the title, which the common folk unofficially bestowed upon you?"
A bead of cold sweat formed on Sieg's forehead. "I am humbled to know that my name has been heard of by a presentee of our gracious goddess, Your Honour. I have never acknowledged that title for my own." he added, lowering his gaze in feigned deference.
In the City of Nemeah, the enforcers of the Red Brigade were judge, jury and executioner. And by everyone except their own and the priests, they were to be addressed as such. From the arrogant, impassable voice and matching grimace, Siegfried concluded that playing submissive would be his best chance to get out of this situation.
"At least, you do not seem to be overconfident. But otherwise, the chance of you surviving not only once but twice in the face of such aggressive changelings would have been abysmal," the enforcer said with a belitteling guesture. "As my primary assignment already led me into this district, I opted to indulge myself in my curiosity. 'What kind of man would this Siegfried be to impress the people by such an ample amount?' I asked myself. And so, I decided to be present at the holy rite of fire."
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Siegfried swallowed. He knew he would have to confront the Red Brigade sooner or later after taking a glimpse at their real face. But this was far earlier than he hoped.
The enforcer's lips stretched into a vicious smile. "Your reaction to the sacred words of our esteemed priest was most intriguing. As were those of your two companions. I have decided that all of you will accompany me to Sector One for rehabilitation."
Siegfried steeled himself. He had never seen an enforcer in action, but going with him would spell his death all the same.
"I am afraid, Your Honour, that I cannot accept your verdict," Sieg stated while drawing his trusted sword. In his mind, he apologised to Bolverk. Today would likely be the first time he would be late at the barracks.
The young guardsman focused on his opponent with every part of his mind. Emotions faded, thoughts stilled. His unnaturally piercing gaze fixed the enforcers eyes— unmoving, so even the slightest motion would register in his subconsciousness.
"This is unfortunate. I like that intimidating glare of yours, but it seems your tale will end today, Siegfried The Just."
With supreme confidence, Akali's deadly agent drew his own short-sword. He set his right foot in front, bent as if readying for a sprint, and raised his right arm horizontally across his chest just as though he wanted to execute a backhanded slash.
As the enforcer's eyes narrowed in concentration, a faint aura of scarlet red seemed to emanate from within him like thousands of tiny red light beams.
On instinct, Siegfried started to throw himself to the right and simultaneously gripped his weapon with both hands in a block on the same height as the enforcer. He counted two heartbeats since the red glow began until his enemy vanished. He felt an explosive impact against his sword, nearly ripping it out of his hands and twisting his dive into a crash on his backside.
Agonising pain shot through Siegfried's left arm. The trusty steel in his hands had a deep nick, level with the cut in his arm. He fought down a cry into a grunt of pain as his body fully registered the wound, and blood started to flow out. The severe gash went through the muscle and partly into the bone.
A slow clap sounded from behind him. The red-clad fiend had cut Siegfried while passing by, stopping eight houses further down the small street in the blink of an eye.
"I am impressed, guardsman. I intended to slice through the whole of your chest. If by luck or skill, no report of an unblessed human deflecting an enforcer's blade has ever reached my ear." A sneer of cruel, sadistic satisfaction formed on his face. "I'm going to savour this and cut you up bit by bit so you might live long enough to realise the absolute hopelessness of your situation."
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Arrogance, good. Surviving the first strike gave Siegfried a lot of information to work with. He gritted his teeth against the pain of his, now useless, left arm and stood up in a more flexible stance again. Both legs bent, sword in a middle guard, he entered a state of indivertible concentration once again.
The enforcer held his ornate weapon out to the right middle, clearly going for a horizontal swipe again. This ascertained Sieg that his enemy couldn't move while focusing on his gift and had to get into position before that.
Two heartbeats.
At nearly the same instant as the red glow started, Sieg dashed left. A gasp of pain slipped as the movement rattled his injured arm, but the only new wound was a superficial cut to his upper body on the right side.
"Just as I thought," Siegfried said with feigned humour in his tone, "the gift speeds up your body but not your mind. You can only execute one priorly planned move. Guess that's what makes you third-class."
"You impertinent dog!" The anger was clearly visible in the enforcer's posture "Let us end this farce!" He clicked a button on the ornate grip, and the pommel shot out far enough for him to use two hands.
The preparation told Siegfried that his opponent was going for a more direct blow this time. A two-handed grip so the force at such speeds wouldn't fling the enforcer's sword from his hands.
Siegfried adjusted his stance, watched for the angle of the next attack and adjusted again. When the foreboding red glow started, he abandoned his block for an overhead slash and swung down with full strength. He cried out when part of his own blade suddenly stuck out of his left shoulder. But there was another groan coming from behind him.
The arrogant enforcer had dislocated his left shoulder, and his hands were empty. The valuable sword stuck halfway in the wall to Siegfried's left, undamaged, but he doubted he could free it with only one arm.
There was not much fight left in the heavily injured guard. He was losing too much blood, starting to feel lightheaded.
His opponent drew a dagger, readying himself to strike once more. The enforcer was looking at the ground below Siegfried, measuring the distance between them.
He was going for a stabbing attack. The broken sword was useless in this case, so Sieg threw it away.
The grin on the enforcer's face indicated that he took the gesture as resignation. The ominous scarlet glow manifested, and in the last instant, Sieg moved half a step back and raised his hand, palm facing the enemy.
The enforcer stopped right in front of him, the dagger in his outstretched arm, aimed at Sieg's throat.
But his reach was off as Sieg had stepped back, while the long, white enamel blade, coming out of his palm, pierced through the red mantle, into the heart.
"Overconfidence is why you are third-class, Your Honour." He stared in those unbelieving eyes until they went glassy, and the member of the Red Brigade fell over.
††† Siegfried †††
The alley seemed blurry and somehow lopsided as Siegfried fell to one knee, unable to hold his balance, the muscles in his thigh refusing to obey his will. The gaping wound on his upper arm still spluttered blood, pouring out his remaining strength onto the ground. He needed to stop the bleeding quickly. Sieg tried taking off his leather vest with one arm but couldn't muster the effort.
"Siegfried!" an unfamiliar female voice shouted out.
In the foggy haze of his view, a brown shape mixed into the blur of light and colours. It wasn't until she was directly in front of him that he recognised it as the woman he nearly ran into earlier.
"Siegfried, you are—"
The organic blade was still visible. The woman quickly recovered from the surprise, ripped off a generous part of her tunic and wrapped it around his arm. He couldn't stifle a painful moan as she fastened the bandage. "You have to stay with me, Siegfried. We need to get away right now. I have a hideout not far from here, but I can't carry you," she urged him, agitated but not panicking.
He grunted with effort, willing his legs to hold up his bulk once more. His mysterious saviour tried to support him, slinging his healthy arm over her shoulder. Upholding his weight would be an impossible feat as the big guard outweighed her delicate body by at least three times. But she could steady his balance, allowing him to focus only on moving forward.
It felt as if his body was made of solid lead, and it took all of Sieg's willpower to set one foot in front of the other. After the first steps, he fell into a kind of trance and lost every sense of time and distance. It couldn't have been long before they stopped in front of a shoddy wooden house. The door creaked as if it would fall from the hinges any time now. But despite looking like an abandoned, rotting shack on the outside, it was clean and well-aerated inside. Siegfried dropped on the only straw mattress in the room and drifted into unconsciousness immediately.
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"Ride this, my beloved consort!" Instantly rewarded with a punch in his charming face. He looked hurt, "I just wanted you to try out the mythical beast mount!" Having died a cruel and excruciating death in her past incarnation, she was reborn into a body imbued with an impeccable talent for cultivation. A good-for-nothing? Fire, water, ice, wind, thunder, and nature; switching between the six elements is easy as pie. Supreme grade pills? She scatters them in the air like candies. Legendary beasts? They're begging her to form a contract. She is the arrogant Queen almighty! You say that heaven is undefiable? Then she will defy it! "Bad news, my Lord! The consort has beaten the Empress of the Heavenly Phoenix Nation into a pulp!" He raised an eyebrow and brimmed of pride, "It's nothing. Send a million troops to back up my beloved consort. Tell them that I'm the one who's pampering her!"
8 326Windwalker
Having subdued its surrounding enemies, the former Sulic Empire is faced with unrest brewing from within. Society is torn in two. The reigning mentalists constantly persecute the subjugated elementals under the pretence of curbing the explosive potential of their destructive powers. Meanwhile, schemes and political interests clash as different groups within the Governance military elite vie for control. And in the shadows, Sulic’s old enemies have been lying in wait a long time, looking for the first sign of weakness to make their move. Against this backdrop, two ordinary individuals fight to maintain stability from opposing sides: a low ranking telepathic recruit with nothing to his name but good intentions, and an unregistered elemental contractor with a murky past. Can they reconcile their differences and help steer Sulic away from tearing itself apart? Windwalker explores themes of societal struggle and self-discovery. Book One: Rising Wind Kal has trained to be a soldier his entire life. His days are simple, and his duties clear: enforce the rules, upkeep the peace, and most important — police the elementals. If they step out of line, the Governance system corrects it. But when Kal encounters a young boy whom he suspects might be an illegal earthborn, he can’t bring himself to report him. Despite his training and the advice of friends, he decides to help him onto what he believes is the right path. This choice lands him in more trouble than he bargained for, and he soon discovers that the veneer the Governance is built upon an ugly and crumbling foundation.
8 140The Dungeon's Escapee
An Earthling, a Summer Elf, and the only male Phoenix in existence walk into a Dungeon... Okay, maybe they don't really do it so much for glory but rather because it's their job, and maybe they weren't really together, and some of them were actually walking out. Enter the world of Cespes, a land of magic, mystery, and monsters. Now, the Ancient Gods have gone silent even as magic enters the Golden Era. The Avish Empire might have fallen four thousand years ago, yet much of society remains fragmented, even as they share more cultural ties than ever before. Adventurers have always formed parties. Now, there are Dungeons, dark, grey blobs that dominate Kingdom maps and kill everything within sight. Yet, beyond even these obvious places of danger entwined with fortune, a forgotten evil rears its head after fermenting for millennia. A call for heroes has arrived. Warning: This story is written in the first and third person with multiple POVs. I will try to publish at least once every two weeks, if not more. Cover art by: [email protected]
8 113Mage Blessed
James leads a busy life as a software developer for a big tech company. One late night too often, he is teleported to a world full of magic and wonder. He is marked as 'Mage Blessed' due to the magical markings on his hand, a special gift that people are born with and spend their life cultivating. Yet his mark is different and his magic unusual. An unfamiliar gift in an unfamiliar world. Can he use his wits and intelligence to craft a life for himself in this wonderful yet perilous world?
8 133The Prophecy Of The Four Kings
the father of gods, only known as Etano, created the world, and along with it the creation of many other gods, due to their loneliness, they created many races, all with different names and characteristics, but the first among them were the humans,many gods had many differing opinions on each race with slot of them taking favourites, then one day etano fell into a deep slumber, some of the gods saw this as an opportunity to make their favourite race the rulers of this new world, and thus the war of the gods came to be, but that was forever agoAster the one who worlds the powers of the earth, calm and observant, Barak who holds the powers of lightning, one who loves to fight, Levant blessed with the powers of fire, quick to act and fiercely loyal and polaris weIlding the power of ice, as such is his nature cold, these four boys have been together since the day they were born and have all ways had a strange connection to each other, now, for the first time in a long time all four of them are together again, but that is quickly overshadowed when they are greeted a strange woman who came seeking their help infiltrates their village, The boys take this opportunity as they have all been seeking to leave the island they call home, like Barak who seeks a way to prove his strength or Polaris who needs to escape his home, But when they arrive at their destination,they find an entire continent embroiled in war, Aluric the young guild master of the Artemis guild, who is is said to have devastatingly ambitious plans for the entire continent, And Ea the Prince of the kingdom who started the entire war,The Dracht Empire, are the two at the fore front of this battle, and unknown to all of them an even deadlier enemy lurks in the shadows, with their targets set in their sights how will each of the boys face and overcome their self and their challenges as the world changes before their own eyes, Join our protagonists in this action heavy story with lots of worldbuildingand even more interesting characters as they all go through their own journeys
8 19928 Weeks Later (Rewrite)
It was supposed to be a nice vacation with his father in London but it all change when the rage virus was released in London destroying the country in several days. During the 28 days, he met with other survivors and some died and gain new ones but in the end, he eventually was recused by the US military and shipped to the U.S. 28 weeks later he returns back to London in order to repopulate the country but soon or later Thomas will be new people even a new girl but unknown to him he'll have to fight the same nightmare again.
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