Things got even more complicated when Gauron left the house. How much, one might ask. Very much, as just minutes after, my mother’s body seemed to decide that giving birth right then was a good idea. Perhaps it was caused by her anxiety with the whole situation, but I’ve got to say that it sure didn’t make things any easier.

I was asked to go call for a midwife and a healer. However, the plan by my father had been to originally have both the healers who we had in town be with the guards should the need arise. After talking for a short moment, my father approved having Eleanor, the dwarf priest who also survived the attack on the Steel Mountain, help the midwife.

With that decided, I left the house to do my part. Neither of those things were particularly hard and, after they were done, I made quite an immature choice. I could have, perhaps I should have, gone back home after talking to Eleanor, but instead, I seized the chance to go to that house. Yes, it was quite childish, and yes, I did unnecessarily worry my parents during a very bad moment, but I was just filled with so much curiosity. She had told me she would show me something interesting if I went to her! There was only one interesting thing happening as the men attacked. There was no way I could watch Gauron’s battle in person, so the only way I could possibly see it would be to go to Chirene. I wanted to see it.

Then, at the edge of town I saw her, a girl, younger than me, and despite that seemed as much of an obstacle as a huge guardian monster.

“Aria! What are you doing here, shouldn’t you be home? Things could get dangerous.”

She looked angry, and I would bet anything that she was really angry.

“I could ask the same of you. Both of our fathers are guards, so we both know exactly what is going on, and yet, why are you here? Why do you have to go there now, of all times?”

She asked me in such an accusatory tone that I winced. What did I have to say in my defense? Absolutely nothing, though I could try.

“There’s something I need to see.”

That wasn’t exactly untrue, but useless to say.

“No you don’t, you should be home now.”

That was sort of true and sort of false, at least from my point of view, though I can’t deny that her point made more sense.

“Just, please, let me go, I’m not doing anything bad.”

“Don’t wanna.”

“Come on, don’t be like that!”

“No!”

“I’m going!”

“Stop!”

Before any of us realized it, the whole thing had become a tantrum of two kids, just saying words to each other. Though technically, Aria was winning since she was keeping me inside the town. It was only stopped when a soothing voice just… echoed in our heads. Probably another succubus racial magic.

“Okay, okay, both of you can come you know, I don’t mind if you’re here to keep an on your crush, little girl.”

Aria went beet red and blurted.

“What? I’m just worried. It, it’s not like that!”

A giggle echoed through our minds.

“Ehehe, so you say, but don’t worry, it’s not going to go beyond a crush.”

“Shut up!”

With that, Aria was somehow pacified and we made our way together to that house. I asked her in genuine worry.

“Are you sure it’s okay for you to be here? Won’t your parents worry?”

She replied with a naughty smile.

“Heh, unlike you, I think things through and faked being so scared and I told mom that I would be hiding in my room, then I sneaked out.”

Somehow, that didn’t seem like something that would work to the very end, but I said nothing in return. We arrived at that house in silence and were welcomed by Chirene.

“The show won’t start in a while, but make yourselves comfortable, everything is prepared.”

As the three of us crossed the door, a thought entered my mind, and I just couldn’t stop myself, or slap myself across time.

“So, how come Aria is the only other kid that remembered you?”

Chirene showed a wicked smile.

“Let’s just say, that I hoped that we would play a game together. Fortunately we are, and I am going to win it.”

Aria was mute about any such things.

I quietly read a book with Aria at my side for a few hours, until Chirene tapped on both of our shoulders.

“It’s time, just sit on those circles and relax, I will show you both just how much of a good choice your father made.”

Aria seemed uncomfortable, but did as she was told. Once we sat down, Chirene chanted a few strange words and it started. At first, it felt like I had just fallen asleep, then like I was floating in the air, but like the air was filled with water. Then, it was like I was there, but with more freedom, while not being there. Assisted Farsight is quite the strange experience.

Bors was an honest and good man, or so he thought of himself, but the last few weeks he had spent marching with the Lord Theres’ men made him rethink a few things. He knew that he was a bastard of the Lord, he grew up without a father figure around him and his mother was a simple servant. Even so, he went to school with sons of successful merchants and his studies even resulted in an apprenticeship with a traveling mage.

For most of his life, he never truly questioned his good fortune or stopped to think about what kind of man his lord and father was, nor his family. Only as he neared adulthood did Bors realize how weird his life had been. He was a person in a sort of limbo, he was the illegitimate son of a noble, so he wasn’t a true noble, and yet, he was treated much more favorably than any regular person. His slightly above average skills in magic made things even stranger, as he attained some amount of prominence in the city that he lived in, within his father’s castle’s walls.

Of course there was grumbling when he was appointed the family magician, but Bors' own skills, along with his father’s brutal treatment of the worst offenders soon silenced any rumors of a position supposedly attained through unfair means. His mother was so proud.

She was no longer just a servant, but a mother of a respectable mage. Never did it occur to anyone that perhaps he wouldn’t have gotten this far without the education that he received, which was so rare for children of servants.

Still, in the castle he worried more about honing his craft than anything else, so other people’s rumors would rarely reach him. The lord’s family could have also been Bors’ family, but they might as well have been strangers to him, that is, until all of this started.

The man the lord Theres chose to marry the daughter of the deceased lord Ashram was his third son, Lars. While he was still in the castle, the most Bors had heard about him was his love exploits. Either he was the man who bedded the most women the whole city, or he was the most vocal, so it was hard not to hear about it. It wasn’t until Bors listened to the soldiers he marched with that he learned that probably most of the women he had bedded weren’t entirely willing. That would make his father’s choice quite logical, or so Bors thought, even though he felt bad for the girl. It wasn’t his problem after all.

“You are quite the skilled magician, but you lack experience, therefore I won’t ask too much of you, just make sure that my son stays alive until he fulfills his duties. Once the marriage is done, you can return. And if possible, do try to give him some counsel if he tries to play around too much, as he is very irresponsible and likes taking the easy way out.”

Bors left the castle having received these words. They were some of the first he had ever directly received from his father, and perhaps could be the last ones. He didn’t immediately realize the meaning of his half-brother’s irresponsibility, but this and other things finally sunk in, as he rested in the camp and overheard the conversation of some particularly nasty fellows from the army.

“Look, I’m telling you, if it’s not immediately after taking care of the child, then it makes no difference.”

The first voice belonged to someone nicknamed Brute Lion. How he got that name, Bors didn’t know, but he didn’t think it made the slightest sense, as the man never showed any of the characteristics usually associated with lions, such as great strength or pride, although the brute part did fit him perfectly.

“And I’m telling you I don’t care! The best you get is when you’re making the dying husband watch.”

The second one was the Widowmaker, a man whose rumors make Bors’ stomach churn. He was sure he understood what they were talking about and really wanted to leave, but he had just sat down to eat his food. Those two were quick to find a reason for a fight, and suddenly standing up and trying to leave was likely to result in a problem, so he just sat down and tried not to pay attention to them. Yet, something inside of him, something twisted, wanted to hear it so bad.

“No, I know I’ve said this before, but it goes like this: When a lion kills a displaced rival’s cub, it puts the female right into heat. Human women are just the same I tell you, nature has my back.”

Oh, so that’s where the nickname comes from. It popped right into Bors’ head.

“Nature my ass, I know that you’ve been taking care of Lars’ bastards even before you started telling that story. Stop trying to make an excuse for that sick perversion of yours.”

“Oh, you, of all people, get to call me a pervert, I see, that’s very interesting.”

“Hey, you’re the one that came after me, talking for the umpteenth time about how I’m wasting my time and that you’re the one who knows how to enjoy himself.”

So that’s what the lord had meant when he said his son was irresponsible. Bors stopped eating for a moment, as he felt he could vomit. Lord Theres’ was a ruthless man, but he would always fulfill that which he believed was his responsibility, naturally that included taking care of any sons, whether they were bastards or not. So they would be strangers forever, it wasn’t like his father truly cared about him, but he had given him the opportunity for a good life.

Lars, on the other hand, was of quite a different temperament. So as to not have any problems, he ordered any bastard suspects dead. His father most likely knew and disapproved, but would not put in the energy necessary to prevent it, probably because he didn’t view it as a personal and direct responsibility. Although, him sending Lars off to be married might be a way to get rid of him and his antics.

Those were the kind of people that he was working for. Bors tried his best to put the thought aside, but it always tormented him as he rode to the side of his half-brother. He also knew that they were marching towards a small town, and it was clear that his half-brother was going to raid it, no matter what. At first, Bors felt bad for the prospective wife, but now he knew that many other people would face something much worse on the way. Even if he raised not a single finger to help them do the deed, could Bors truly be a good and honest man if he just quietly let it happen? It truly tormented him, but he still could not work up the courage to even tell Lars to reconsider things if the town meekly submitted.

In the end, even if he had done such a thing, it would have been useless, as when they finally approached the town and met with a supposed representative, the man not only refused to even sell a great quantity of food, but he also asked the army to not even move through the town.

“What a foolish man, I will not delay for even one day the encounter with my fated bride! Except, perhaps to punish a certain town, we might have to spend more than the initially planned time.”

The grin that Lars shared with the men around him was disgusting to Bors, but once again, he said nothing in opposition. Ah, mother, am I truly a respectable man? He had a couple of hours to ruminate these thoughts before he was called, as the march was starting again.

“Huh? Didn’t we give them until nightfall to comply with the order to provide food? Aren’t we moving too soon?”

The man that came to call me shrugged.

“It seems that the commander wants to surprise them, since it doesn’t seem like they intend to comply.”

Thus, Bors mounted his horse and made his way to the position where his half-brother was. As always, they merely acknowledged each other silently. Usually, the awkward silence was occasionally broken by reports, but strangely, nobody was coming to talk to Lars. Bors couldn’t help himself remarking about it.

“It’s strange, there has been a while since the last time we had a scout’s report, right?”

Lars’ brow furrowed and he let his irritation show.

“True, what are those fools thinking, I even assigned quite a few of them, reporting to me in turns so I could know what was going on. Could that man have? Damn, that’s why I don’t trust towns not directly under any noble. I knew that treating them as enemies from the start was the right choice.”

Bors wondered if perhaps they hadn’t picked on his hostility from the start, but before he could even try to say anything, a man burst through the ranks with a worried expression. It also seemed that the whole column had stopped, something probably had happened at the vanguard.

“Commander, there’s something you need to see at the vanguard.”

Lars clicked his tongue, clearly annoyed by the situation.

“Can’t you all even wipe your asses without my supervision? Fine, I will take a look.”

The men gave way to them and one thing that Bors observed was that the closer they moved to the vanguard, the more nervous the men seemed. It didn’t take too long for them to reach the place where the cause for the march’s pause could be found.

“Is that a joke or what? So you think that showing us the heads of our scouts would frighten us? What a stupid creature you are!”

Bors recognized the voice as belonging to the famous Widowmaker, next to him was the Brute Lion, figures that they would be on the vanguard. In front of them, some twenty five meters away, was a minotaur standing, a half dozen heads at his feet. The mystery of the missing scouts was solved.

“What is this? A cow stands in my way and for that, I have to leave my position? This army has more than a hundred men, and yet we stop for a single cow?”

The Lion was quick to reply, with an apologetic expression.

“Ah, commander, don’t worry, we were about to give the command to trample him.”

Covertly, he shot a death glare to the man that had called them there. In the intervening time, Lars’ expression morphed into a smile, perhaps he had thought of something especially cruel. He stroked his almost hairless chin.

“Well, perhaps this might end up interesting, show me how you slaughter a cow! Strange, I thought that word would unnerve you more, cow.”

He directed those words to the minotaur. Usually, calling one of them a cow was enough to send him into a rage, or so Bors had heard. There was something deeply disturbing about that minotaur, like he was barely containing himself. He was huffing and puffing, in such a manner that some men, fools that they were, were finding funny, while others, those who had any sense, sweated.

“Lars, perhaps, it wouldn’t be such a good idea…”

Bors was so nervous that he even forgot to call Lars by his title. He was frantically searching within his memory all that he knew of minotaurs, so he could make sense of that intense sense of dread. What was their racial ability again? Something about blood…

“Not now, we are just going to destroy…”

Lars hadn’t even realized the lack of the title, but couldn’t finish his phrase as a stomp and a roar echoed through the road.

“Fool! Approach this town even one more step and you forfeit your life and that of your men. Take a detour and do not approach this town, if you do so, no more blood from your men will be shed.”

It was a powerful and commanding voice, which clearly belonged to an experienced leader. There were quite a few men whose faces turned pallid from dread. Lars and Bors were among them. Bors knew the sensation that ate at his spirit that very moment, he had felt it once before, when he foolishly dabbled in summoning magic. He mistakenly summoned a high level Manticore, and there was no way he could control it. He was saved, then severely scolded by his master, before being prohibited to ever try something like it again. That terror. In this moment, the primordial instinct gives men only to choices: Fight or Flight.

“Kill him! Trample him! Break him!”

Lars’ voice left his throat as a shriek. He chose wrong, he chose wrong, he chose wrong, he chose, wrong, we are all dead. Oh saints and spirits, please protect me. The two half-brothers made opposite choices, but neither was able to truly act on it.

“Then your lives are forfeit!”

To emphasize his point, the minotaur let out a deafening roar that drowned all other sounds.

“Shuuuuuuuuuut uuuuuuuuuuup!”

The Brute Lion shouted at the top of his lungs, but still could be barely heard. Those were his last words as the huge axe that a moment ago had been on the minotaur’s hands suddenly split his head in two, lodging itself on his body. As the minotaur pulled the chain, to take his axe back, the horse was dragged to the ground and the corpse was thrown like a rag doll. The roar stopped for a moment, only to resume, impossibly so, even more intense than before. The Minotaur charged at the men, dirt flying where he stepped.

“Protect me, fool!”

Lars had a hand on the sword resting in his hip, but it did nothing for him. His head flew before his blade ever left its sheath. Meanwhile, Bors was scrambling in his mind, trying to think of a spell, but nothing came to his mind.

“Mommy…”

His last words were a whimper, as he saw the movement of the ax in the slowest half a second of his life. From the start, he knew that it was a mortal strike, which he could in no way dodge. There, on that soon to be Bloody Road, Bors’ life ended.

Gaius’ POV

It was almost as if I was there myself. Such a fascinating scene was going on, and I could see everything. After Gauron had killed the two men who seemed important, the first man who was confronting him assumed a more cautious stance.

“Don’t approach him alone, just keep a decent distance while we surround him and we should kill him easily! Hey, archers, somebody call the archers here, I have a feeling we might need them. Don’t be afraid!”

The man could say and do what he wanted, but nothing would change. As some ten men completed a semi-circle, surrounding Gauron, he swept their horses’ legs with Severance, aided by the great chain that kept the weapon connected to him. As the men fell from their steeds, which had their legs cut, they got killed swiftly, some before they even hit the ground, none before they could recover.

“Sir, here are the archers of the vanguard! Shall we?...”

He was interrupted by shouting from the first man, who by now had an intense fear plastered in his face.

“Shut up, just loose, loose! Kill that... thing!”

Having killed every nearby person, Gauron began to charge in their direction, a fury reflected in his eyes, which was even more intense than their fear. More than a few men fumbled with their bows, but even the few arrows that were loosed did not make a difference, regardless of finding their target or not.

“Ah, monster…”

As he stopped, Gauron fatally wounded three men with a single sweep of Severance. The other men watched in horror as the few arrows lodged on him were seemingly pulled out by a ghost. The cloth attached to the ax, which by then was died the sinister red of fresh blood, started to get cleaner and the ring in Gauron’s hand glowed.

“Bloody saints, what is wrong with you?!”

The first man who had confronted Gauron attempted a swing, but had his neck broken by a sweeping punch by Gauron’s left hand. He fell, dead from his horse. From that moment on, the already flagging morale of the soldiers who were watching completely broke. From then on, it was hunting season.

“Ah, ah, just run, run, retreat!”

But where could they go? The road behind them was full of their companions, while they knew nothing of the surrounding forests, with the bonus of being a hindrance to their horses. So each man made their choice, running away, riding away, dismounting, then running. However, no matter what they did, it spread further panic.

“I warned you all! Your lives are forfeit, whether you run or not!”

The roar seemed to reverberate, even though they weren’t inside a building or anything. No man could outrun Gauron, on foot or horseback and he took only a brief moment for each kill. Eventually, it turned into quite a pitiful sight: Gauron effortlessly dragged men from under wagon or corpses before dispatching them to the next world, many begged for their lives, citing duty or family, but none were spared. In the end some twenty survivors scattered all around, but all were hunted down.

It was evening, fast approaching the night, when the incoming army had encountered Gauron. A hundred sixty seven armored men. By midnight, there were no survivors and the bloody minotaur who had done it sat by himself on the bloody road. My vision blurred and I seemed to be yanked to someplace else.

I was back at the house, feeling more than a little dizzy. Next to me, Aria was throwing up and, in front of me, Chirene was grinning.

“Didn’t I tell you? There was nothing to worry about. Gauron is not an average Minotaur and he isn’t equipped with average gear either. What did you think of it?”

Before I could open my mouth, Aria replied, sounding miserable and angry.

“Horrible, everything about it was horrible! I wish I hadn’t come here.”

Somehow, that came as a shock to the stupid young me of that moment. After all, even if there was a little dizziness involved, how could she have thought of witnessing such an awesome thing as a horrible experience?

“Huh? Horrible, how? Didn’t you see it? The way he just destroyed those men who were going to kill us?”

Oh yeah, good going genius! Couldn’t someone have slapped me then? Aria returned a pained expression. Tears started rolling her cheeks. She started shouting, interspersed with sobs.

“Couldn’t he have just scared them off? Didn’t you see? Awesome? He was killing them! Just killing! I did not want to see him in such a way, covered in so much blood from other people! He is, he is, so scary! I just, I just…”

She completely broke down crying. Being such a stupid kid, I was at a loss. Surprisingly, Chirene moved to hug her and stroked hear head, murmuring calming things. To this day, I do not know whether it was a genuine action to help, or if Chirene was trying to create some emotional attachment by doing this.

My jaw practically fell as it dawned on me the reality of the situation, Gauron had just killed almost two hundred men, and it was a horrifying thing. He wasn’t just a harmless adventurer who lived in our town. He was a terrifyingly powerful warrior, who, if it fancied him, could probably kill us all. Since then, and for quite a while, neither of us could really see him in the same way as before.