Chapter 3: The Curtains Rise

As I peered up at the stands above the circular area where me and the other three heroes were standing I couldn’t help but narrow my eyes in disgust. This place is designed to intimidate with it’s lower circular area overshadowed by elevated stands. A large skylight designed to shine light right in the middle of the area while leaving those seated above in darkness. This is obviously designed for those below to feel as if they are being judged by a higher power. He could just make out the shape of a massive two story tall throne and a shadowy figure atop it. The throne had an ornate silhouette, clearly designed for use in just this setting. Afterall, how can you display the majesty of a king you cannot see? You build a giant chair and make it’s silhouette look menacing.

“Greetings Heroes you are a welcome sight in these dark times.” a male voice said, his voice seemingly coming out of the floor. Probably the effect of some fancy acoustics, it seems this guy really likes his theatrics.

“I am Rex Regum Leon Magni, ruler of the great Regus Kingdom.” the king says as braziers were lit in unison around the throne illuminating himself and the throne. It seems he likes his dramatic entrances as well. The throne was revealed to be made of gold, whether it’s gilded or solid gold I don’t know. Either way, for something so large to be gold puts even the most extravagant palaces back home to shame.

“My kingdom is besieged by denizens of another world. They seek to destroy all we have built. You are not the first heroes to arrive, many have arrived before you in centuries past. All the past Heroes are willing volunteers from other worlds so I assume that is still the case.” the king said, he paused as if waiting for a reply.

“Naturally, I was chosen by the God of Light, Honour and Virtue, he spoke to me and told me you guys needed help. I agreed, so here I am.” the older brown haired man with the sword and shield said. The man flashed a winning smile as he did so causing some hushed whispers in the stands, coincidently I noticed the whispers were feminine voices.

I’m not that surprised, the guy was of Caucasian descent and he was pretty handsome. Not only was he tall he also looked to be in pretty good shape. Although I have to note this “in shape” is less of the kind in which he can march 10 kilometres with 40 kilograms of combat gear and more of the kind you get when you do bicep curls in the mirror. A better comparison would be the difference between a dog that attends dog shows and a stray dog that has to survive on the streets. One has to look good, the other has to survive. There’s a reason why most strays look roughly the same in terms of physique, afterall it was the most optimal physique for survival.

As for myself, I am that stray dog, I am of average height, on the skinny side and covered in a layer of tight muscle. In stark contrast to his perfect skin, my skin is rough and covered with scars from scrapes or shrapnel. Unlike pretty boy over there I usually don’t even get a shower let alone skin care products.

“Well said Light Hero, you do justice to your predecessors reputation.” the king praised, to slightly louder whispers from the noble ladies.

“I would know you name Light Hero.” the king half asked and half demanded, his regal baritone echoing across the room.

“I am Jacob Smith, a pleasure to meet you, your majesty.” Jacob replied with another winning smile.

“Hahaha, the pleasure is mine Sir Smith, I am unsure of the customs in your home but here you may refer to me as, your grace.” the king replied.

“Well your grace, I am born under the Star Spangled Banner, my nation is the United States of America. My nation controls the lands from east to west, from north to south, all of my world lives under the flag of the United States of America.” Jacob said proudly, puffing out his chest.

“Impressive, your nation controls all the world? I wish I could visit but sadly I am confined to this one.” the king said with an admiring tone.

“You never know your grace, my countrymen have a saying. If there’s a will there’s a way.” Jacob replies with a smile.

“Hahahaha, your spirit will be much needed in the days to come. I thank the seven that they have sent one such as you. Glory to the seven.” the king says, his voice echoing out across the room.

Glory to the seven

The voices of all the gathered lords and ladies echoed out after the king. Seven? I thought there were eight gods, which means one of them is at best ignored or at worst spurned… and I can guess which one is the one that they aren't fond of...

“Now then, who are you Earth Hero.” the king says as he gestures to the boy with the warpick.

“My name is Ivan son of Igor, I come from the cold heartlands of the Holy Rus Empire. I am a peasant, alive due to the benevelovence of my nation's resplendent Tsaritsa, Yekaterina the Great.” Ivan said as he bowed his head low with a practiced motion, as if bowing to his betters was the most common thing to do in one’s life.

Rus? So he’s Russian? I instinctively reach for the handle of my pistol on my waist, fully intent on blowing his head off. Then as I grip the pistol I stop, I take a breath, calming for a moment. That guy said, Tsaritsa? Isn’t that a Russian queen? That name as well, Yekaterina, sounds familiar… Again I try and recall the things I learned in history class back at the academy. Yekaterina… Yekaterina… Catherine, Yekaterina is the Slavic pronunciation of the name Catherine. Catherine II the Tsaritsa of Russia in the late 18th century. If he served a queen then this this Ivan guy is definitely not a communist, after all the Bolshevik communists did chop the last Tsar’s head off in my world.

“Yes, calm down Onaga, they are from different worlds. You have no quarrel with them.” I think as I take a deep breath and look back at Ivan.

“I have received the summons of a god. The God of the Earth, Gemstones and Mountains calls and I answer.” Ivan said.

“Tsaritsa? I am afraid I don’t know the term.” the king asked.

“It means Queen of the Rus. The Rus are my people, we are born hard like our unforgiving land, with it’s freezing winters and towering mountains. While the other peoples scheme and plot, the Rus endure.” Ivan replies as he looks up at the king, his gaze hard as stone.

“Hmm the old tales ring true Earth Hero. It is said the Earth Hero is as stalwart as mortal flesh can be, unyielding, unrivaled in tenacity, the foes of the Earth Hero break upon him as the waves do upon a shore. It is only fitting one such as you bear the mantle of the Earth Hero.” the king said with a regal nod of his head.

“Then what of you, Life Hero? Before you speak I must say, the tales of the fertile beauty of the Life Hero are not unfounded.” the king said.

Fertile beauty? I hope that’s some commonly used term to describe young women here. If not this guy is a total fucking creep, what is he, in his fifthties?

“Thank you for the praise, your grace.” Charlotte replies with a curtsey. She grabs the ends of her skirt and lifts them slightly, her right leg crosses behind her left with practiced ease and she bows her head gracefully.

“I am Charlotte of the house Holstein. I am a member of the German nobility in my world. I have been sent here by the God of Life, Love and Music. For as long as my memory serves, my house has worked to protect the people. I would be remiss if I denied the request of a god to assist in as noble a task as protecting a world.” Charlotte said her melodic voice echoing across the hall.

“It is an honour to meet a member of the aristocracy from another world. I can tell by your movements and your speech that your house is one of great prestige Lady Holstein.

“The honour is mine, your grace.” Charlotte said with another curtsey.

I always had this strange… gift you could say. My brother called it my sixth sense, I could always sense when someone was looking at another person with ill intent. This is an extremely useful talent for a soldier, it comes in very handy when dealing with snipers. When you are fighting Siberian hunters who can hit a coin at 500 metres this sixth sense may be all that stands between you and a bullet in your brain. This feeling always feels like a cold breeze on my neck and I could sense it from the nobles as they gazed at Charlotte.

I’m not stupid, I’ve seen what men with no moral compunctions can do. Charlotte is young, beautiful and well spoken. I’m not the most romantically inclined guy but what I do know is human weakness and a lifetime of privilege being able to do you as please doesn’t exactly make you strong. As my brother once said, “Those born of privilege rarely realise it’s curse until it’s too late.”

“Now we are left with you.” the king says coldy as the gaze of the court shifts to me.

“The Dark Hero, the bringer of ruin or say the legends say.” the king says.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, your majesty.” I reply, intentionally using the wrong term.

“So why are you here?” the king asks, ignoring my jab.

“I know why I am here as for what I am supposed to be doing I have no idea.” I reply with a shrug.

“Do not play word games with me Dark Hero. How can you know why you are here without knowing what you are supposed to do?” the king asks coldly.

“You think I’m here to save your world.” I state calmly.

“Why else would a hero be here? The Dark God asked you to come here didn’t he?” the king asked. I know I am being grilled for information, it seems the Dark Heroes are something of a wild card in this world. The other heroes all seem to be more or less the same type of people every time. However judging by this conversation the Dark Hero seems to be different enough that most don’t know a Dark Hero’s intentions.

“I agreed to no such thing. I am here for my own reasons. The plight of your world is not my concern.” I reply coldly. If they don’t trust me then I might as well let them sweat. The fact they haven’t killed me means there is something that is stopping them from doing it. Like perhaps that organisation or person that the princess mentioned, the Black Hand.

“Then what is your reason?” the king asks. So asking directly then? Well I have to at least give him credit for trying, even if it’s a piss poor attempt.

“I’ll just say this, I cut a deal with this Dark God. He told me that he needed me for his designs. He didn’t tell me what this mysterious design was, all he told me was the prize at the end of this road.” I say curtly.

“Prize?” the king pressed.

“That’s for me to know and you to find out.” I reply.

“I can offer you much as well, wealth, power, women to warm your bed. Work with my kingdom and you will be generously rewarded.” the king proposes.

So he’s trying to bribe me now, it would be a good plan if he wasn’t trying to outbid a god. He must be truly desperate if he is trying something like this. I wonder what the past Dark Heroes did? It would be definitely useful to find out. If I know what they expect me to do, what they fear I could do then I have the initiative. A battle fought on my timetable is one I better stand to win.

“I’m not interested in gold or power, as for women to warm my bed? All the women in the world can’t warm my bed, my bed is warmer when I’m not in it.” I reply with a scoff.

“You truly are a broken soul aren’t you?” the king says with a sigh. That’s oddly specific, broken soul?

“Knight Commander Zorah, examine him.” the king commanded. I see a figure drop down from the stands. I can’t tell who it is as he or she is still shrouded in shadow, with the only light being the centre of the circle and the throne itself.

As that person steps into the light I see a woman wearing ornate silver armor. The joints of her armor had some kind of white fur sown in. Over her left shoulder was a red half cape that obscured her left arm. She wore no helm so her face was bare for all to see, again this one was quite the beauty, she looked to be just a year or two older than me. Her hair is a fiery red that came down to her shoulders and her eyes were like red rubies glowing in her eye sockets. She gave off the aura of a soldier yet her skin was perfect, if she was back in my world many girls would ask for her skin care routine. Her figure was mostly obscured by her armor but I can tell she had a fit body. Warrior maiden with perfect skin, fiery red hair and a good figure?

I really am in a fantasy game…

When are the dragons and elves going to show up?

I think to myself sarcastically as I watch her approach. She pauses in front of me and I can sense her gaze examining me. I slowly placed my hand on the grip of my gun as the tense silence dragged on. Then in a flash I feel a hand around my throat and I am hoisted into the air. She’s so fast I didn’t even see her move, I instinctively grab her arm and try to pry her off me. Naturally since she is freakish fast she is also freakish strong, I try to pull her hand away to no avail. So I raise my left fist and throw a punch right at her face, I feel my fist strike her and it feels like I’m punching a concrete wall. The bitch doesn’t even flinch from the strike.

[Mind Read IV]

I hear her say and I feel something enter my mind. It was a weaker version of the same trick that god did on me. This one was cruder and not as fast, the god was swift and did what he needed in a few seconds. This woman's attempt was like someone taking a crowbar to my mind. I feel her rifling through my mind digging for memories that I would like to stay buried. I feel closer and closer memories flash before my eyes.

She stumbles across one of my memories of my particularly gruesome memories and she hesitates for a moment. I feel my vision return and I return to lucidity for a moment. I see her gaze flicker for a moment as if she is internalising what she just saw. Then her eyes harden and I feel that crowbar take another swing at my consciousness.

“Stop what are you doing!” I hear Charlotte shout in the far distance.

So I can still hear what’s going on out there. Then I get an idea, if my memories can jar her... I send her a memory of one of the worst battles I can remember in all it’s visceral detail. The cries of the dying, the sight of shattered bodies littering the streets of Sapporo, the final gaze of a Russian soldier as I drive my bayonet into his heart and most of all I send my rage and sorrow I felt during that accursed day. Oh this got her attention, the presence recoiled in disgust and my mind snapped back to reality. I draw my pistol and move to aim at her chest, I feel her arm grab my pistol and hold it in place. She holds it away from her body but doesn’t divert the barrel. It seems she has no idea what a gun is.

“Let him go!” I hear Charlotte shout from the side, I see her storming towards me and the woman from the corner of my eye.

“This is necessary Life Hero sama.” the woman Zorah says as she turns her head to look at Charlotte. I notice Charlotte look down at my pistol pointed right at chest, then our gazes meet for a moment and her eyes widen.

“Katsuro don’t!” I hear Charlotte shout but I pull the trigger.

*Bang*

I feel the kick of the revolver travel up my arm and the arm around my neck slackens. I see Zorah stagger backwards, clutching at her chest, she falls to her knees and a trickle of blood flows from her lips. I take aim at her head instinctively and pause. She looks up and stares down the barrel of my gun. Then I see a pair of dainty hands appear and grab my gun pulling it down.

“Stop!” Charlotte shouts as she pulls at my gun. Just as her appearance implies her physical strength is barely able to pull the gun off target with both hands against my one handed pistol grip.

I don’t reply as I look down at Zorah’s trembling body that was letting out rasping breaths. I probably hit her lung, if I had hit her spine or heart she would be dead on the ground. I tear my gun free from Charlotte’s hand and gaze at the most likely dying woman in front of me. I feel her gaze searching my eyes of something and I know she comes up empty as she looks away and grits her teeth.

“No no no.” Charlotte whimpers as she approaches the wounded Zorah, her arms held out as if to help steady her.

“The god said… said I can help somehow… she said I could [Heal] you or…” Charlotte stammers, the moment she says the word [Heal] her hands are engulfed in a green glow and that same light engulfs Zorah. I see her pale complexion return to healthy glow and she coughs out a mouthful of blood before taking in a rasping gasp of air.

I raise my gun again pointing it straight at her head.

“Go on try it again, I won’t miss your heart the next time.” I hiss my voice dripping with venom.

Charlotte spins around and grabs my gun again pulling it away.

“Stop, no more shooting or killing, we didn’t come here to kill people, we came to save people.” Charlotte shouted. I growl as I tear my gun free from her grip again.

“Speak for yourself!” I snap in response, my rage boiling over, this causes her to still.

That Zorah bitch attacks me and tries to invade my mind and I’m supposed to just let this go?

“She attacked me!” I snap at Charlotte again, my blood pounding in my ears.

It takes all of my self restraint not to aim my gun and just blow that Knight Captain’s head off. Whoever tries to attack me ends up dead, there is no middle ground. The only negotiation I have ever seen working either involves the barrel of a gun, the edge of a blade or a generous amount of high explosives. I don’t know what fairy tale land Charlotte’s world is but that is NOT how the world works.

“Bigger soldiers than you have tried to kill me back in my world. Now there’s a lot of big skeletons scattered around my world.” I say as I feel my blood pound in my head.

Thinking she can do whatever she pleases, I have a motto if someone or something wants to kill you, make them work for it!

I start to slowly feel the rage start to ebb, I sense Charlotte staring intently at me. I turn to look at her and she takes looks into my eyes. Her eyes shimmer for a moment and she bits her lip. She takes a deep breath, closes her eyes and her face returns to her usual prim and proper calm demeanour. Then she opens her eyes and looks me straight in the eye.

“You can’t just murder her, she’s the Knight Captain. If you kill her do you think the king would just let you walk out of here alive. You are here for a reason, it may not be the same reason the rest of us are here for but I doubt you can complete your objective if you’re dead.” Charlotte said calmly. I catch the barest of a shimmer in her blue eyes as she finishes.

“Fine.” I say as I holster my pistol. I turn to look at that Zorah woman who has gotten back to her feet.

“Touch me again and I will finish the job.” I growl as Zorah looks at me.

She takes one last calm look at me before she turns and jumps back up the stands. I see her silhouette flash and she reappears at the King’s side. She bends forward and whispers something into the King’s ear before standing at attention beside the king.

“So it seems this time the Dark God sends a soldier.” the king says.

“So? What were you expecting? A florist?” I reply coldly.

“You are such an ugly broken thing…” the king says with a sigh. So now he’s insulting me, great…

“You got any tape? Maybe I can patch myself into something closer to your liking.” I reply sarcastically with a scoff as I cross my arms.

“I know not what this tape is but I can sense the thinly veiled insult. Your sarcastic malice is strong enough that it’s almost dripping onto the floor.” the king replied unfazed.

“We are all born as blank slates, in our youth our lives shape us like a sculptor makes a piece of art. That is why Lady Charlotte carries herself so much better than you. Her sculptor is of noble blood, they have sculpted her into something refined, elegant, beautiful... As for you…” the king says coldly.

I glare back up at the king, as if most people get the choice of what “sculptor” they get. These people are blessed due to nothing but a lucky roll of the dice, nothing more. Everyone else has to settle with whatever horrors the spiteful gods decide to send their way.

“You are sculpted by war, with all its horror and sin. You are a creature of rage and violence, spreading it wherever you go. You are a poison on the good people around you. But most of all you are a prisoner to that design, for you are and always will be a broken, crude and ghastly thing.” the king said as he sat up straight and gazed down on me as if I am some insect crawling at his feet. I clench my fist as I listen, I’ll let him talk, for now…

“However, it is perhaps a good thing the Dark God sends a rabid creature like you to us. For monsters from beyond the veil march on our lands. I have many uses for one such as you. Soon Rifts from the outer plane will tear holes in the gap between the worlds. From those gaping wounds will spill the hordes of hell itself and only a Hero can seal these Rifts. That is your purpose Heroes, my brace soldiers and citizens can assist you to reach the Rift but only you can seal them.” the king explained as he pinched the bridge of his nose.

“So when do the Rift’s open?” Ivan asked, stepping forward.

“In a month’s time according to my mages. You are all now Level 1, you will need to train and grow in strength if you are to face the Rift in a month's time. How you managed to wound my knight captain so severely I do not know.” the king said as he cast a sidelong glance at me.

“Regardless for the good of the realm I will do my best to prepare all of you but the final push will be done by yourselves.” the king says as he rises from his throne.

Prepare yourselves heroes

Harden your resolve and temper your will

Millions of souls now rest on your shoulders

For the curtain rises on the war that shall decide the fate of this world...