Chapter 009:

Anton and his escorts moved quickly along the outskirts of Atros, away from the main plaza. Heavy fighting could be heard, screams quickly replaced by shouts and the sound of charges. Ringing and clanging of metal grew louder as time passed. Anton hoped that this meant the villagers were doing okay.

At present, depleted of mana and disoriented by the withdrawal, he could only safely make two to three small lightning bombs and that was debatable. His only contribution would be as a distraction and meat-shield.

“Jeff,” Anton asked as they continued to run, “Where are you leading us?”

“The Karak tree. You said you wanted to find it.” Jeff replied flatly.

“Yes, but where is it?” Anton asked, increasingly frustrated.

“Behind the main hall, didn't I tell you?”

Anton missed a step, Verona groaning under the increased weight.

“Are you serious!” Anton yelled angrily back.

“I would have told you if you had just asked.”

Anton could not refute his words, he should have just asked. He felt quite stupid for not taking a couple of hours to have a proper walk through the village.

They continued to move in silence, through side alleys and darting across the larger and more open roads. In the larger roads there was the occasional Yellow Goblin body and copious amounts of blood, yet they saw none alive nor any villagers fighting. Everyone remained as alert as possible, but Anton knew that their attention was diverting to the ongoing battle in the plaza.

As they approached the main hall from the back, they encountered their first live opposition. Four Yellow Goblins mulled around the corner of the house just before the main hall. They looked bewildered and lost, but that would change the moment they had an enemy. Anton and the villagers hid in an alley out of sight.

“Jeff, can you and your men deal with them?”

“Got it.”

Jeff and the six villagers dashed out and charged, all in silence. By the time the Yellow Goblins noticed it was too late, their bodies torn apart by the villagers.

It helped that the villagers outnumbered the Yellow Goblins, but Anton did not want to ruin the moment. Everyone looked quite proud of themselves.

They passed the last house and faced the back of the main hall. The Karak Tree, if it really could be called that, looked nothing like he had seen before, on this world or on Earth. It looked like a giant piece of brown and red coral standing four meters in height. The branches grew at odd angles with only a few large and long needle-like leaves growing at the very tip of the branches. Pink fruit grew in the dimples of the branches, tightly secured in the coral shaped wood. This tree had twenty fruits scattered along the branches.

“Okay, could someone please get one for me?” Anton asked, still feeling weak and disoriented.

Jeff walked up to the tree, snapping a fruit off like it was an apple and chucked it at Anton.

He did not hesitate before taking a bite into the fruit. The juices and sweet flavour burst with every bite. After a few mouthfuls he could feel his mana recovering. Strangely, there were no seeds to be found in the fruit and even the stalk was soft, so it only took a few moments before he had eaten all of it.

Anton felt considerably more mana within him. Nowhere near what it usually felt like, but not insignificant. Most importantly his body no longer felt like it was about to give up on him.

In order to test his recovered strength, he stopped leaning on Verona's shoulder and took a few shaky and tentative steps. It was so much easier than before, he no longer needed help to walk.

He held out both hands, palms straight up, and summoned as many lightning bombs as he felt comfortable. After ten he started to feel the withdrawal again.

Deciding that it was enough he drew the mana back into himself. A little of the mana was lost, he could reclaim some of the mana but not all of it.

While Anton had been practising, Jeff had grabbed a bag and filled it full of the Karak fruit. The entire tree was stripped of fruit. He looked quite pleased with himself.

“Okay,” Anton started, grabbing another fruit, “I think I'll be fine with these now.”

A loud cry rang out from the other side of the building.

“We'll do what we did in the quarry: I'll use the lightning bombs while we stay together and gather everyone together. Anyone got any other ideas?”

Everyone shook their heads after a moment of thinking. Without anything more being said they hurried for the plaza.

When they arrived it was a complete stand-off. Around fifty Yellow Goblins had formed a defensive circle formation while the villagers had encircled them, but seemed unable to break their formation. There was only a meter between the two sides. Occasionally one brave villager would charge forward but would be driven back by a flurry of axes and clubs. Archers could not get a clear shot, for when they prepared to fire the Yellow Goblins would surge forward and force the villagers to close lest they burst through. They realised the damage the archers could do.

Anton made his way through the crowd, villagers parting for him. The moment the Yellow Goblins saw him their faces changed. They looked terrified and angry at his presence, raising their weapons, angrily swinging them as if to ward him off.

They need to know they can survive all on their own. A little help would not be unappreciated though.

He formed a single large lightning bomb large enough to take out a few goblins at a time. He flung it into the air, several meters above the Yellow Goblins.

Each Yellow Goblin turned to watch as it flew above. To watch what was about to kill them.

Anton did not make it explode instead nudging Jeff, who stood beside him and pointed forward. Jeff seemed to understand.

“Charge!”

The villagers raised their weapons and attacked, the Yellow Goblins still distracted by Anton's lightning bomb hovering above their heads. It was only when a few screamed as they died did the rest begin to realise they had been so easily tricked, clearly written in their deformed faces.

The 'battle', as such as it was, lasted only a dozen seconds. The small frames of the Yellow Goblins crumpling under the villagers repeated and ferocious blows. Blood and chunks of yellow skin flew up into the air all around them, staining their clothes in a colour that matched their fury.

When the villagers finally stopped the ground was a slurry of blood, bone and dirt. Many looked around for more to fight, bewildered that they had succeed.

A villager cheered in relief, then another and another. It was not long before every armed villager was celebrating.

Anton felt quite proud of what they managed to accomplish by themselves.

Jeff stepped out from the bloody mess, Sam by his side.

“Come on everybody. We've got no idea how many could be left throughout the village. Get out there and start killin' every one of them you can see.”

One of the villagers raised his hand to speak.

“We're...we're tired.”

The man was using his spare arm, leaning another equally tired looking villager, to keep himself upright. Many others seemed to be behaving the same way, though Jeff and the soldiers from the wall did not. Jeff looked as if he was going to yell at them but Anton raised his hand to stop him.

“There can't be too many that got through. A few squads should be enough. Who's up for a bit more fighting?”

Only fifty villagers actually raised their hands, and even some of those looked very shaky. Verona's hand dove up millimetres from his face. At least she still had plenty of energy.

“Alright. Everyone split off in teams and check everywhere. Can't let one of those things do what they want.”

The villagers that were willing to fight left, those staying behind began to tend to their wounds.

“Verona, guess it's me and you then. We'll head south first and go from there.”

“You got it.”

She flexed her arms and legs in readiness.

“That went well.”

Anton stopped and turned. Zac, Bertram and Jonathan and his kids came out from one of the large sealed barns. Behind them were the women, children, sick and old, all kept safe throughout the chaos.

Bertram appeared quite happy while the other two still looked somewhat worried. Zac carried with him a hammer, blood covering the head. He noticed Anton looking.

“Oh, some of them got into the barn. Smashed their heads in. Didn't know there was a hole until we heard them scurrying around. It sounded like a rat gnawing through wood. Thank the gods I was there.”

He looked quite proud of his hammer.

“Told you I would defend this village.”

“True,” Anton rebuffed, “You probably could have done a lot more good if you were out here fighting.”

Bertram started to chuckle. When Zac glared he did not stop, only chuckling a little quieter. Anton was sure that under that bearded face he was starting to go red.

“Nonetheless, that wall did slow them down. And, everyone did their part in keeping each other safe.” Zac looked a little pleased. “Once we've got this thing under control there are more things to discuss. For one, not letting me make all the decisions, or at least appear to. I'm imagining something like a council of people who know what they're doing, where everything can be better organised and controlled. That way we won't be tripping over one another to get things done. I've got other ideas, but that one's the most important right now.”

“Well, it's good to see you're thinking ahead.” Bertram began, “We should have...”

Anton cut him off.

“Hardly matters. The point is that we're getting things done now.”

Bertram simply nodded while the others looked quite pleased.

With that Anton waved them goodbye as they headed south.

---[]---

Anton and Verona walked as quietly as they could as they searched along the roads and alleys of the village. The lack of fighting sounds only added to the tension

None of the villager groups headed south with them. They must have thought that the pair of them would be enough.

As they passed a building before the blacksmith they both heard noises, and not made by humans. The sounds of scurrying creatures were terribly loud in the otherwise silent village.

They hugged the wall of the blacksmith and peered around, with Verona's head looking like it burst from his chest.

There was movement at a building two down south from the blacksmith. Nine Yellow Goblins lurked outside the windows and doors barred from the inside. One brought up its crude axe and began hacking at the door. Despite its small frame large chunks of wood flew off, it would not hold long. The other goblins looked on in glee and anticipation.

“So, what do we do?” Verona asked, turning underneath him to look him in the face. A dull thunk, of metal hitting wood, rang out. Verona's spear had knocked onto the wall.

Anton winced as he heard the sound, hoping that the Yellow Goblins had not heard. When he opened them a moment later, he looked down and saw Verona looking down and incredibly guilty.

She opened her eyes and started to breath more quickly, readying herself for the battle.

“I've got this. I'll take them out and you keep an eye out for surprise attacks.”

Anton looked concerned at her.

“I'm the reason we can't sneak up on them.” She looked over her shoulder at him. “Just...be ready, okay?”

“I could just...”

“No.” Verona shut him down with some force.

“...Okay then.”

Verona took this as permission to proceed. She strode confidently into the middle of the road, spear ready to fight.

The Yellow Goblins saw and turned to face her. One Yellow Goblin was still trying to attack the door. Another goblin tapped it on the shoulder and spoke something to it in its horrific language of snarls and guttural utterances. It glanced momentarily towards Verona, not showing the slightest change in expression. Then it saw Anton and it drew its face back into a snarl as if it were a dog.

This one did not move to attack, instead turning to the door and striking it with renewed vigour.

They must really want what's inside...better not let them have it.

Anton summoned a few lightning bombs and kept them hovering around him. He was only going to interfere if it looked like she really needed it, her display at the wall showing that she could be extremely tough. If he did, he knew that she was going to angry at him. That thought ired him.

She took a deep breath and walked forward.

A Yellow Goblin ran to attack her, shrieking and swinging its axe.

Verona waited until the goblin was two meters away before attacking herself. With a single thrust, she stabbed it in the chest. A last second attempt to dodge by the creature only served to move the impact point a little away from the centre.

She let out a grunt of disappointment before planting her feet hard into the ground and using all the force she could muster, ripping the spear out. The flesh and skin tore apart, revealing the strange organs that spilt out on to the ground.

Bewilderment and shock ran through its face, twitching and frothing blood as it thumped onto the ground dead.

She retook her combat stance, blood dripping off the tip of the spear.

The other Yellow Goblins and Anton looked astonished at what just transpired. From the back, Verona did not even twitch as she waited for the next attacker.

The Yellow Goblins glanced at one another, clicking and shrieking at one another. They spread out so they could attack her at the same time, leaving the goblin at the door to continue its mad attack. With a wild shriek, they ran towards Verona.

That would be too many for me if I just had a spear.

Anton was about to fling the lightning bombs when she raised her hand to stop him. She had not looked back once, but she somehow knew. He held them only a few meters away, just in case.

She took a step back after making sure they were the same distance away as the first goblin and leant on her back leg. With all the strength she could muster she pivoted on her back leg and swung herself and the spear around.

The spears edge connected with the neck of the first Yellow Goblin. No resistance came as it was sliced clean off, blood gushing out. The spear continued through to the second, third, fourth and fifth neck. By the time it reached the sixth Yellow Goblin her attack had run out of power.

The spear dug in, lodging itself in its neck. Blood began to flow, but it was not dead. With its last ounce of strength, it grabbed the spear and locked it in a death grip.

This left Verona exposed to the last Yellow Goblin. It had no time to process the deaths of its comrades, as it aimed and swung its axe straight at Verona's neck.

At the last moment, Verona's head turned towards the goblin. She tried to move out of the path, using her momentum after letting go of the spear to try and keep herself out of harms way. The Yellow Goblin adjusted its swing by lunging forward. Verona was moments away from having her neck sliced open.

Anton did not wait, flinging a lightning bomb at the Yellow Goblin.

Its body shook under the surge of electricity, its body and muscles going taught. It's body and axe still had momentum and continuing its trajectory. The axe missed her neck, but dug deep into her shoulder.

Verona howled in pain. She relinquished the spear and fell over backwards, clutching at the axe. Her blood seeped through her fingers and dripped onto the ground.

The Yellow Goblin hacking at the door heard Verona's cry and stopped. It looked at the dead goblins on the ground then at Verona, still writhing in pain, and ran towards her.

Anton flung another lightning bomb before it made the halfway point, killing it instantly.

He looked around to make sure there were no more goblins. Realizing there were none, he rushed and knelt next to Verona. She was still in great pain, though she tried her best to hide it.

“Oh harden up you big baby,” Anton said, mocking what she had said earlier.

She looked angrily at him, almost as if her eyes could shoot daggers. He gave a quick and sudden pull but it was hard to remove, her flesh retaining the axe head.

“Alright, On the count of three. Ready?”

Verona tensed her muscles and nodded.

“Okay, One-”

Anton ripped the axe head cleanly out. Verona screamed as the blade left her shoulder.

“You!-”

“If I had actually counted, you would have tensed even more and done more damage.”

He inspected the axe head. Like everything the Yellow Goblins had, it was crude and barely functional.

More important was Verona. Blood leaked out of her wound in great quantities. He placed his hand over the wound and used the prayer power.

The amount of mana nearly caused him to black out once again, but he held back at the last second.

He slumped down onto the bloody ground and grabbed another Karak fruit. While he ate Verona stood up, rubbing her shoulder to check she could move it properly. After a few spins she was satisfied.

A few moments later Anton had devoured the fruit, feeling a modest amount of mana returning. Verona recovered her spear and helped them both to stand.

“That magic of yours is really amazing,” Verona said, with a hint of awe.

“And that's why we should always work as a team. I've got more than healing, you know.”

Verona's face turned extremely sour.

“I woulda' had 'em.”

Anton raised his brows in disbelief, Verona taking this as confirmation that she could have died.

“Sill, I did take six out in one swing. Was that awesome or what?”

“It was pretty impressive.”

Anton patted her on the head

“You were almost a bad-ass.”

“...I have no idea what that is...but I presume it's pretty good...right?”

“Oh yes,” Anton said proudly.

Verona slipped out from his hand and jumped enthusiastically in the air. As she landed she stopped moving and looked quizzically at him.

“What were they after anyway?” she asked, looking at the smashed door.

It was something that was continuing to bug Anton.

These creatures appeared to eat grass so they should not have much problem with food. So what could they possibly want? Perhaps they just revelled in violence. But something was continuing to eat away at him, like his subconscious had all the pieces and refused to tell him.

They approached the damaged door, only a few splinters remained. A few more swings and it would have broken down.

“Hello?” Anton asked tentatively.

Something shuffled, getting louder closer to the door.

Through the gaps of the door, two dirt but relieved faces emerged. It was a middle-aged woman carrying a small child in her arms.

“Thank you,” The elderly woman spoke with a croaky voice, “I thought they were going to get in.”

She chuckled as she spoke. The adrenaline must still be coursing through her body.

“Why aren't you with the others?” Anton asked, opening what remained of the door.

“We...we were about to...and then I heard the bells and everyone was in a panic. I don't know...I just panicked and hid at home.”

“You're safe now, and currently we're getting rid of any goblin survivors. Head to the plaza, there'll be help there. Food and water too.”

“Thank-you,” the woman said as she ran through the ruined door. She gave them a final nod in thanks before hurrying towards the centre, the child still in her arms.

“Great,” Verona said, turning her attention to the south, “Let's go and see how many are left.”

Anton was about to tell her something about asking for trouble, but it was too late. The sound of crashing wood came from a few buildings over, followed by a short shriek.

Verona grabbed Anton's hand and ran, dragging him along with bestial strength.

---[]---

They passed three more buildings and through an alley across the road before they found the source. Three people; a man, woman and young girl, were being attacked by a trio of Yellow Goblins. The man stood out in front, using the remains of a broken pitchfork to bravely try and fend them off.

Anton prepared the lightning bombs, Verona lowered her spear and charged without a word.

She only made it two steps before the man fell. One of the small throwing axes, used the first day Anton arrived, jutted out of the man's face. He twitched and shuddered a moment before falling back onto the woman and rolling onto the ground. She did not even react, too frightened.

The monsters laughed, or what passed for laughing in their language. The two survivors, still paralyzed by fear and shock, could not resist them. One goblin struck the women in the legs with the blunt edge of an axe, both falling over. The other two grabbed the villagers by their hair and began dragging them away, screaming in terror as they struggled with their captors.

The free goblin noticed Verona, causing her to stop in her tracks. The two goblins dragging the women barely flinched at seeing her and continued to drag them away.

Anton flung a lightning bomb at the lone Yellow Goblin and killed it. Verona glanced back, her face looking annoyed, but continued to advance.

The two goblins stopped, the women no longer screaming but still terrified. They grabbed each woman by the throat and held a small knife to it, snarling at Anton and Verona. Both kept their distance.

They began to gesture wildly towards the south and shrieked loudly. From where he stood Anton could see the edge of the village, grassland stretching uninterrupted to the horizon.

If they could get that far they could probably sneak through the longer grasses back to the mountain, back to do whatever they did.

Verona took a step forward, the goblins tightening their hold on the women's necks. A thin line of blood crept down from the knives.

She stopped advancing, Anton coming up beside her.

“What do we do?” she asked. “I can't move that quickly. Any your bombs will probably kill them too.”

The Yellow Goblins appeared to relax when both of them remained stationary. They began to drag the women away slowly, putting extra pressure on their necks until they started to drag themselves.

I can't use the flame, it'll roast all of them. The lightning bombs are too dangerous...but just the lightning...

Anton fed the mana to his hands, but only enough to just feel it building. He raised his hands, feeling the whips of mana curl through them. Unlike the lightning bombs, he did not turn them into a ball, using what strength and control he had to keep them straight.

He released the mana. Two small lightning bolts flew from his hands, one hitting the woman and the other hitting the Yellow Goblin holding the girl. All four twitched then slumped as they were hit. Both of the goblins lost their hold and knives falling loosely to the ground.

Thank god that worked.

The women, still slightly paralyzed began to crawl away as best they could, shuffling and wriggling their bodies. The Yellow goblins were far more paralyzed, their bodies and faces twitched violently.

Their faces turned into terror, as if they had seen a vengeful god. They clambered as the stun effect wore off and ran south. Their legs barely obeyed their thoughts as they ran.

Anton gave Verona a bump in the back. She ran past the villagers and quickly dispatched the Yellow Goblins with a single strike to the back of their heads.

“Are you alright?” Anton asked both of them, making sure they were both okay.

They stood weakly, both embracing each-other. Their hair had been frazzled by the lightning bolts and a few parts of their skin had been burned but otherwise, they were fine.

“Did...did you know that would work?” the younger girl asked.

Verona skipped back and stood triumphantly next to Anton. Both of the women glanced at the blood on the spear. He hoped it was not out of fear.

“Um...yes. Yes, I knew it would work.”

Both looked quite relieved.

Truthfully, I had no idea. I'm just glad it did.

“Who was he?” Anton asked, looking at the dead man.

“Our neighbor. Nice man, and I'm glad that he was there for us. We'd have been dead if it weren't for him.”

There was some sadness in both of their faces.

Verona looked back towards the man and the lone Yellow Goblin.

“Oh, it's still alive.”

It lay face down, a pool of blood slowly growing from underneath it. She was about to thrust her spear into its heart when Anton grabbed her hand. She turned and looked at him, confused at why he had stopped her.

“We need to know more about these things.”

He turned to the women pair.

“Head to the central plaza, you'll be safe there.”

“Thank-you, thank-you so much.”

They quickly ran towards the centre without looking back, leaving Anton and Verona alone with the dying goblin.

“What are you going to do?” Verona asked, keeping her spear pointed at the goblin while Anton knelt beside it.

“Just a quick check...Do you have a knife?”

Verona searched around her hip and procured a small steel knife, about two inches long, handing it to Anton.

He held the knife in his right hand as he placed his hand on its back and began to search, hoping to find something to help. He found nothing that he had not learned the first time.

The goblin showed no signs of dying, continuing its laboured breaths. Eventually rolled it over to check its front.

Blood smeared its front. Nothing valuable could be seen. Its face was twisted in pain, but it seemed to be paying the most attention to Verona.

He was about to ask Verona to kill it when his attention was brought to the raggedy loincloth. It was taught now, even though before they looked like they were barely hanging onto their hips.

Using the knife he prodded around until he felt resistance. His mind felt somewhat queasy as he used the knife's edge to lift the cloth up enough to see underneath. The moment he saw it he lowered the knife.

Well. No need to explain what that is. That would hardly be the most important thing to be worrying about if it were me.

Other things started to move within his mind; the uncaring slaughter of the male defender, no attempt at all to harm the women until threat, the attempted kidnapping of the women and the scout Dala, and now this.

He did not want to admit it but he had a pretty good idea of what was happening. The mental flashes were not pleasant at all.

Breeding stock. I guess the magic in the world deals with the genetics problems.

Anton turned and looked at Verona.

“What's wrong?” Verona asked, her face full of worry.

Anton could not answer what he felt they were doing.

“Just don't ever get caught by those things, Ver.” He hoped that could be enough for her.

She frowned in anger.

“Tell me what's wrong. I'm not a child!” She was not backing down.

“Okay,” Anton placed his hands on his hips, “Even I know from that look that you're not going to back down.”

Verona nodded furiously.

“Well, It...”

“Help me!”

They both turned to the new voice. A woman, tall and willowy stumbled out of a house. She clutched her right side, both hands almost covering a bloody section of clothes.

They both ran to her.

“Those...those thing attacked me,” she spoke with a weak and soft voice.

Anton looked around, but could not see any blood or scuff marks on the ground and floor behind her.

“Where are they?” Anton asked.

“I...don't know. Can you help me please, my side hurts.”

She leant against the side of the house and slid down to a kneeling position.

“Hold on, move your hand. I need to see the wound.”

She did as he asked, both hands returning to her side.

“Something's wrong,” Verona said, concern in her voice.

“What?”

“The blood, it's not wet enough for a fresh wound. And she's inside-”

Anton turned to look at Verona.

A sharp pain erupted from just under his left chest.

Verona's face went white and her mouth twitched with fear.

He looked down and saw the hilt of a knife jutting out from his side. The woman’s left hand held the knife, the right hand driving it into his flesh. The edge twisted ever so slightly before the pain grew and became like blinding sparks shooting through his mind. His hand grabbed the woman’s, using all his might to crush and to stop its movement. She winced under the pain, and tried to recoil but could not.

Verona, now red with anger, thrust her spear into the woman's right shoulder, retracted and then drove the spear into her left shoulder so hard that the blade tore straight through and embedded itself into the wood.

“I'm gonna' fucking kill you!” Verona screamed at the woman.

The woman relinquished her hold of the knife, if only because of her injuries. Now she looked to be on the verge of crying.

Verona tried to pull the spear out of the wall but could not, it was well and truly stuck. Her attempts to remove the spear only served to tear apart the woman’s shoulder. Each movement brought a louder cry every time.

“Verona, Stop!”

She looked at him, a mix of confusion and fear.

“Why?”

“Because-” Anton used both hands to remove the knife.

It looked to be a quite good knife, better than he had seen in this village, possibly only brought out on special occasions. He slipped it into his pants.

“We've got a lot to talk about with this one.”

Anton stared, with little emotion, at the woman as he lifted his shirt and exposed the wound. It was quite deep and blood seeped out the moment the knife relieved the pressure.

The woman looked confused as Anton placed his hand over the wound. Her face changed to horror as the wound closed before her eyes, as if it had never happened. Quite a bit of mana was used, he had already

Anton felt quite weak and grabbed another Karak fruit before standing up next to Verona. He placed his hand on her shoulder.

“How about we have a little talk?” Anton asked.

---[]---

After some heaving and pulling the spear pulled free from the wooden wall but not from her. With the woman still impaled on the spear, Verona picked her up and shoved her into an empty house. Verona did not let her go, continuing to move the woman until she slammed against a wall. The woman yelped and clutched at the wound.

Verona moved to the left of the woman but kept as much distance as she could, like she was holding back a dangerous animal. The woman only remained standing thanks to Verona's spear. Occasionally the woman's feet would slip, accompanied by the sound of the spear and wood groaning under the weight.

“Just keep a good hold on her.” Anton told Verona as he stood next to her. Verona nodded, trying her best to keep her obvious anger under control.

The woman was suffering from the lack of blood, growing increasingly pale and beginning to shake.

Anton placed his hand upon her and healed her just enough to close her wounds to stop the bleeding. Color returned to her skin but so did her anger.

“So...” Anton began, “we're going-”

The woman spat at him. The warm saliva nearly entered his eye and ran down the outside of his nose.

The spear moved again, Verona letting out a grunt in anger.

“Verona?”

“Huh?”

Anton started to remove the spit with his face with his sleeve.

“Please don't move or do anything unless I say so. Understood?”

He turned to see if Verona understand. Her face changed when she saw his, frowning and pursing her lips. Eventually her expression softened and she nodded in agreement, though she still looked deeply concerned.

They turned her attention back to the woman. Despite her wounds and predicament, she had an air of superiority about her.

We'll see about that.

“Who sent you?” he asked.

The woman cocked her head and looked curiously at him.

“I don't think you have the intelligence to do this yourself or for no good reason,” Anton asked condescendingly.

“Don't you want to know who I am?” Her voice was a little hoarse from injury, otherwise befitting someone relatively young.

“I really couldn't give a shit. Now, who sent you?”

The woman refused to answer, turning her head away in disgust.

“Then at least tell me why you want to kill me?”

She refused to answer again.

“Okay. I'll ask again after we've had a little bit more private time.”

“What do you mean 'private time'?” Verona asked, a slight quiver in her voice.

Anton pulled out the knife.

“What are you going to do with that?” the woman said with a mocking tone.

Anton didn't answer, moving so Verona could not see what he was about to do. He grabbed her right hand, pulled hard on her middle finger and placed the knife on the knuckle. He looked up at the woman, who started to understand what was about to happen.

“W...wait!” she blurted out.

He used the blade to make a deep cut into the knuckle. Blood seeping out of the wound. Almost half of her finger had been cut. She howled in pain, louder than Verona but far more pitiful.

Anton let the blood drip from the wound onto the floor. She tried to cover her new cut with her other hand, but Anton held her wrist and bent it back as hard as he could. Anton let go when she stopped trying to fight.

“Now.” Anton began wiping away the blood using the woman's clothes. “Who sent you?”

“My name is Cara. I...”

“I didn't ask for your name.”

Anton grabbed her right index finger and cut into it, just like before.

She cried again, to which Anton loudly sighed. Verona remained silent, though a quick glance backwards showed that she looked a little concerned with what he was doing.

“I'll ask again.” Anton now wiping the blood off the knife on her sleeve.

“Okay. What do you want to know?”

“Who sent you?”

Anton placed the knife on her next finger and waited for a moment.

“He...He said it would be easy. That you could be killed like anyone else. I was to be rewarded eternally, with every kind of pleasure-”

Anton started to push the blade's edge into her skin, watching her wince in pain.

“Jeffrey!” she cried, Anton stopped. “He told me to do it!”

“The one that seems to hate me?” Anton asked for confirmation.

“Hate you?” Cara looked baffled, before leaning forward, “He is a glorious man that knows more than anyone else, especially you. He knows you're a charlatan with cheap tricks.”

Cara tried to spit again, but Anton clamped her mouth shut.

“Even that whole fire thing just before? With the giant pillars of fire?” Verona asked.

“Yes. Tricks of a liar and thief,” Cara wrangled her mouth free and turned to Verona, “And you should know that, of all people. You've seen what he can do to people. That he can twist them, like Bertram and the others. But you have known Jeffrey for years. You know that he's a good man, with limitless love for everyone. You especially.”

Cara was basically gushing near the end.

Sounds like a cult. Didn't know that Jeffrey was so obsessed with Verona. There's probably more to this than just sneaking into her room.

Anton looked at Verona. She had a look of utter revulsion.

“That...thing...broke into my room when I was sleeping! He would watch and follow me all day.”

Anton and Cara briefly looked each-other before turning to Verona. She continued to hold the spear with both hands but kept her face down. Her hair covered her eyes but he could see her mouth, teeth bared like a wild animal.

“He just stared at me. I could hear every breath. Do you have any idea how scared I was? I could barely even open my eyes, but I knew that he was there, watching me! When my dad finally came I was so relieved when he threw him out the window.”

Her face was red in anger, not of tears.

She twisted the spear, metal grinding into the wood, quickly drowned out by Cara's screams. Anton could see bits of flesh and sinew begin to wind around the bloody tip as she continued to turn.

“No one should do that, no Human should! And you listen to what he says?!”

She pulled the spear out, ripping more of Cara's flesh as it came out. She aimed at her face and tried thrusting again, but Anton hit the shaft upwards. The tip barely missing Cara's head and catching some of her hair.

“Verona!”

She did not answer him, tears streaming down her face.

“That's enough.”

He took the spear out of the wall, Verona barely resisting as it slid out her hands.

“I'll finish up here, wait outside.”

He handed the spear back, though she hardly seemed to notice. She did not move, holding the spear close to her body while continuing to stare angrily at Cara.

“He...He would never do something like that,” Cara began, still shocked at nearly being killed. “He holds you in such high regard.”

Verona's body shuddered.

Anton looked Cara straight in the eyes, drawing her attention away from Verona. “He was smart...perhaps devious enough to get you into his little cult, and then threw you at me in order to kill me.” He grabbed her head with both hands. “So who's going to stop me from killing you?”

Cara did not comprehend for a moment before everything drained from her face. She looked over at Verona, trying to sputter some words but nothing came out of her quivering mouth.

Verona continued to stare and said nothing. Eventually, she turned around and walked outside, the door slamming loudly as she left.

Utterly terrified, Cara slumped down onto her knees, both hands grasping at Anton's legs.

“Please don't kill me...I have some much more to live for. He surely has-”

Anton did not care what she had to say now. He placed his hand on top of her head and fed all the mana he could spare.

Her hair began to shrivel and smoke, quickly bursting into flames.

“Why?” was all Cara could croak out. The smoke began to come from her eyes. They spun wildly for a moment before melting and running down her face in a thick white stream.

She scrambled to try and run but Anton kicked her hard in the chest, her body slamming back into the wall and curling onto her side. The last vestiges of air thoroughly knocked out of her as she gasped for breath. Smoke began to billow out of her mouth.

Her hands clawed at her throat but to no avail. Her mouth opened to scream but could say nothing.

He continued to feed mana into the flame. It encircled her head like a scarf and quickly started to travel downwards.

Her skin, fat and muscle formed great boils before erupting in wisps of flame and smoke. The boils traveled along her body, each erupting and burning in turn. The flames began to grow until it consumed her entire upper body in an inferno, quickly traveling down.

The remnants of the flesh turned black as her entire body charred and blackened to an unrecognizable state. Soon even that, along with the bones burned to ash.

A few seconds later nothing remained except for a pile of ash.

The smell of the burned body was utterly horrific but disappeared quickly.

A vague charred outline remained on the wall, the only other reminder of her existence.

It only took a few seconds to kill her.

Anton knew, from what he could feel through the mana, that her death was unbelievably painful. More than he could have ever imagined. A part of him felt joy and happiness at knowing that. He pushed that side down, lest it rear its ugly head again.

Without saying anything he left the abandoned building, and its pile of ash, alone.

---[]---

Once outside, Anton took a giant breath.

What he had just done had felt very impulsive, but he felt it was the right thing to have done.

Someone did just try and kill me. Probably should have just slit her throat or something. Anyway, where are you?

Anton looked around and found Verona sitting dejectedly on one of the large wooden crates, her spear sitting loosely across her lap. He sat next to her on the same box, not leaving much room between them.

An awkward silence rose between them, carrying on for some time. Neither could start a proper conversation.

Eventually, Verona shuffled uncomfortably and began to speak.

“You...you didn't seem that surprised?” Her voice was soft and weak. It was a struggle to hear it.

“Someone told me some of it,” Anton replied as flatly as he could.

She stared at the ground.

“I've never told anyone that...my parents thought I was asleep the whole time. I haven't even thought about it since they died.”

She rubbed her face with her hands, wiping away the tears that collected in the corners of her eyes.

“It's been a rough time for everybody,” Anton said.

“Yeah...yeah, it has. She's dead, right?”

“Yes.”

It grew uncomfortably silent again. Anton tried to break the silence.

“You going to be okay? If you want to talk about anything, you know I'll listen.”

She looked warmly at him, smiling faintly.

“I know.” she bumped his arm with hers. “I just need a bit to...you know...get myself together.”

Anton nodded and tried to slide off the crate, to give her some space. He stopped when Verona grabbed his arm.

“Just...wait a second. Please.”

He moved back onto the crate, Verona's head leaning on his arm.

Neither said anything for some time. They sat there, letting what had happened and what had been said sink in.

Eventually, she removed her head from his shoulder and slapped her legs.

“Right. Time to go.”

She slid off the crate but her legs did not support her weight. They crumpled before she made a step. She fell face forward onto the ground, throwing away the spear so she did not impale herself.

Anton stood still as Verona rolled around, the end of spear shaft still landed in the centre of her chest, taking the wind out of her.

“Damn, that was bad. My legs feel tingly...could I get a hand up please?” she asked as she rolled onto her back.

“You probably just sat wrong. It'll pass soon.”

Anton leaned down to help her up, but she interlocked her arms around his neck. He stood up and moved Verona to so he could carry her on his back, wrapping her legs around his waist and securing them with his arms.

“Considering with what just happened...are you okay with this?”

Verona nodded, her chin hitting his back with each nod.

“I'm okay. I don't do anything I don't want to do.”

“No. No, you don't.”

Anton smiled. She could be quite obstinate from what he had seen.

He knelt down and picked up her spear.

There were no sounds of fighting anymore. They had stopped before meeting Cara. He hoped that meant the battle was over.

“Let's go figure out how bad this whole thing went...and something to eat.”

Verona patted him with both hands on the chest and pointed towards the centre.

“Onward then!”