Chapter 3

Bloody Apparition

"By accounts, Light was given to us 600 years ago; yet, how long is 600 years? What do we know of the world from 600 years ago? Nothing but what the scripts of scribes tell us.

Nothing in the muddied Histories is absolute. I choose to believe that.”

Mind of the Heretic, Vol. I

Noah followed back the road he took previously toward the edge of the forest, all the while deliberating on his options silently. The truth was that he was very limited in what he could do, but nonetheless, if his life back on Earth had taught him anything, it was to have a contingency plan for every situation – and that contingency plan for him, right now at least, was his gun.

He had hoped that, in case of things falling through and his identity being discovered, natives would be too surprised by the gun to respond immediately; however, if they had seen a tool similar to it elsewhere, it might not be enough to buy him enough time to escape. The greatest risk was someone linking him to the murders in the forest; however, he wasn’t worried too deeply about it. After all, he ensured there was no evidence left to find – not even a strand of hair at that.

Realistically, the language barrier would pose the greatest, imminent problem. There were, naturally, ways around it – he could pretend to be deaf or mute, or perhaps even crazy, but it would buy him limited options. The smooth-perfect plan would include him simply walking into the city and becoming a member of its beggar population. Not only would that provide him a perfect cover, as practically everyone would ignore him by the virtue of who he was, but it would also allow him to silently observe the ongoing situation in the city, and perhaps even pick up on some social and traditional cues he could exploit.

Knowing how the community itself functions is quintessential for the initial stages of any infiltration; learning the local behavior means the ability to mimic it, lessening the potential of the discovery. Besides, the key to it all is often the common people – slighting their opinions in the right direction can, most of the time, make or break the upper echelon of the ruling class. That has never changed, and it was the same within every system, whether modern or past.

He soon made his way to the edge, returning back to where he realized the true reality of his conundrum. The city still stood perched on top of the tall cliff, the surroundings still entirely clear, void of a soul. Following the edge of the forest, he slowly trailed in a curve, around the cliff, hoping to make his way to the front. He still remained vigilant, excepting perhaps a few patrols around the perimeter, but there was no one. Perhaps the city felt it was safe on the sides due to the cliff's incline, which though good news for now, also indicated that the security upfront will probably be much tighter due to it being the sole point of breach.

Sighing inwardly, he picked up the pace, occasionally jumping two-three trees in a single bout, quickly making his way over. The further along the curve he got, the more impressed he became; the tall walls never gave way, stone standing firm, watchtowers built every three-hundred-feet. On occasion, he'd spot a person or two walking along the wall's path, but it was too far away for him to pick up anything unique about them.

In the end, it took him nearly an hour-long trek to reach the far front. The problem immediately arose as the forest around the front was rather sparse, not nearly enough for him to be confident to sneak around. As he suspected, the security upfront was quite considerable; two towers rose to the side of the massive gates that were built on the artificially raised plateau. The solitary road to the city rose up an incline in front of the gates, somewhat narrow, widening as it reached the plateau. The gates themselves were nearly thirty feet tall, which, in concert with the surrounding walls, made a rather imposing and terrifying picture. Noah counted eight guards at a quick glance, and those were only the ones he could see; two on each tower, staring down, with two settled at the very beginning of the incline, and two by the gates themselves.

There was some good news though – the road was currently filled to a brim, extending well past the incline. Though he was roughly a thousand feet away from it all, the number of souls stretched further back along the winding road that cut behind the rising hilltop just beyond the forest. He spotted at least a dozen merchant wagons and twice as many handheld carts. Sneaking in wasn't impossible, though it would all depend on how willing the city is to accept a beggar-looking dud.

From a quick observation, he realized that the guards weren’t too rigid; they mostly waved people through as they approached, only stopping them on occasion, taking a short glance into their wagons or carts and sending them further up. The same process unfolded as they passed through the gates, which meant that the line was moving rather quickly. On occasion, he’d also see either a group of people or the merchant’s entourage descending the incline, leaving the city, though it was much rarer when compared to those entering.

Noah climbed a relatively tall tree, though not the tallest as he still needed the cover of the leaves, and leaned against its thick trunk, falling deep into thought. The way he saw it, there were six likeliest ways of entering into the city: he could try and scale the side of the cliff and the tall walls, hoping he'd avoid the patrol; he could try and join a group and pass as a member of it; he could try waiting in line on his own and hoping they won't turn him away; he could try and sneak into a wagon, or beneath it, but for that he'd have to find the ones further back in line, and he wasn't certain his physique would be enough to let him hang from the bottom for most-likely at least an hour.

There was also the option of waiting for the night to fall, and seeing if the defenses loosen any bit – this would also allow him to get a hang of the general patrols and even the attitude of guards toward their job. And, lastly, he could inflict a few wounds on himself in the forest, the likes that caused a rather grimy scene with a lot of blood, stumble out of the trees and shout in pain before collapsing. Afterward, he could only hope they would be humanitarian enough to pick him up and bring him into the city.

One additional benefit to the last plan was that he would be stumbling wounded out of the forest – a point of interest, no doubt, to the city. They might suspect he was harmed by the same person who killed those kids, and, while not wrong, it would be a dangerous game to play. He'd eventually have to wake up, and they would need him to talk – which he, naturally, couldn't do. He could try and just speak English, as to signal he's from someplace else, but as he didn't know anything about the world, that would be risky. He could also pretend he'd gone mute, or even that he'd suffered a massive blow to the head which left him a bit… off.

All in all, he was actually the most confident in the last plan; sneaking in carried far too many risks. That’s not to say, however, that the last one didn’t have its own, fair share of ‘what-if’ problems. For instance, they could just ignore him – or, worse, walk over and finish him off. That’d sour things rather quickly for him. There was also the chance that they might just assume he was the murderer, and throw him into a dungeon – or the gallows. This was the core problem of not having any information – everything, no matter which plan he decided to go with, depended entirely on a roll of the dice. Are they this way? Or the other way? There was no way he would know.

From what little he observed those kids, the most he managed to conclude is that they seemed to respect hierarchy quite a lot and that there seems to be no restriction in terms of age when it comes to the military. However, with the concept of the magic present, that isn't all that strange, at least to Noah. He was not able, however, to glean anything useful about their general culture – are they a part of a tyrant Empire? A religious cult? A chill, easygoing kingdom? From the looks of it, they didn't seem to be the former two – after all, most single-headed nations tend to refuse a surplus influx of foreigners as it becomes that much more difficult to control information.

As for the religious cult, there was even less likely as Noah failed to spot any of the telltale signs – the road to the city wouldn't be filled with rich-looking merchants, but with broken, down-on-luck folk grasping at straws. Furthermore, from what little he glimpsed of the city inside, the architecture was diverse – and the tallest building is neither a church-looking structure or a statue of some or the other divine figure they worship.

However, if civilizations were that simple, the Earth wouldn’t have been the way it was when he left; nuance is present everywhere, and a single city can be both benevolent and outright evil at the same time, as nations themselves defy paradoxes and contradictions due to the simple fact that they’re merely realizations of the concept – they’re made up of contrarians, which enables them to be anything and everything at the same time.

Furthermore, a lot of it comes down to perception; if a neighboring nation is good to your own, then, in your eyes, they’re a kind friend – regardless if that same nation is currently engulfed in wars of ethnic cleansing within their own soil.

Noah sighed once again, dropping from the tree and slowly unpacking; they’ll definitely inspect him if they decide to bring him in, and he can’t be seen carrying anything unusual. He’d have to bury everything he brought with himself and somehow find a way to retrieve it later on. A part of him wanted to at least keep one knife, but as he didn’t know the exact level of tool production, it was too risky.

Holding the SOG knife in his hand, he deliberated once again whether this was the best choice. Among them all, it certainly left him with the least amount of agency, yet his gut feeling was telling him to go with this one.

“Ah, fuck it,” he said, throwing away all hesitation. “Let’s see how this shit goes.”

He had to make it realistic-seeming, but couldn’t risk early death in case they didn’t know what the hell they were doing medically. In effect, three places were the best for the visual effect – scalp, thigh – but away from the artery – and forearm. The problem is that none of them are near the torso area, and once they examine him and see no wounds, they would be suspicious. The make of the wounds, also, can’t be too strange, as it might raise more questions than the comfort zone.

He’d happily stab himself in the gut if he could keep the knife in, but that was out of the question, and there was a chance he might bleed out before they give him first aid. He could cut a few shallow wounds across his breasts and the side of the abdomen, but he’d have to supply more smeared blood from elsewhere as the local bleeding would be somewhat mild.

Deciding on the order, he gritted his teeth and began ripping his clothes haphazardly, as to give the illusion they were once illustrious and were destroyed in the process of him running through the forest. Right after, he made a shallow, but long cut along his outer thigh; the pain quickly pricked him, though he ignored it as this level was a joke for the current him.

Letting it pile on slightly, he smeared some of it on his fingers and brought it over to the disheveled chest, spraying it over at random, quickly creating a few shallow gashes on his torso. He then proceeded to cut the opposite forearm – left leg, right forearm – and then moving it around randomly to stir the blood flow as well as to randomize the splatter. He went after the scalp the last, making a shallow cut at the point where his hair met his forehead. The tiny wound began bleeding profusely immediately, which is when he knew that his time was limited.

Though he would probably survive if left alone, there was still a chance the wounds might not clot in time – or, worse yet, that they might get infected. Though he had a few antibiotics buried beneath his feet, those were emergency rations – unsustainable long-term.

Quickly burying the knife into the dirt, he took a deep breath and immediately broke out into a sprint. The moment he burst out of the forest and onto the plain surrounding the cliff, and the city itself in extension, he began hollering madly, screaming at the top of his voice. It didn’t take long for his voice to reach the masses that collectively turned toward him and exclaimed in horror as they saw the ghastly sight. Not too long after, today would be immortalized in the Kingdom as the ‘Day of the Bloody Apparition’, eventually winding up as a scary story told to misbehaving children – hush, hush! Otherwise, the Bloody One will come and steal you away!