Born a Monster

At first, I thought it had to be a trap. It was too obvious; but I did set myself up for the obvious second swing that never came.

Was he getting sloppier?

I tried for a hip grab, yanking my arms back quickly enough that his defense didn’t sever them. Nope, definitely not getting sloppy enough.

He struck downward, splitting a paving stone into three pieces rather than hitting me.

“Enough of this crap.” he said. “I am a champion; I have other means.”

It wasn’t the time to remind him he was winning without those means.

“Servants of the God of Flame, hear my call.” he said.

“Wait. Are we allowing magic this time!?” I shouted.

.....

“It is I, your servant Kornath. Grant me, if only for a moment, the flames of your wrath and fury. Axe of Fire!”

His axe dutifully burst into flames. Outside the ring of guards, the crowd went wild.

“Move water!” I shouted. “Water shield!”

Don’t ask me how he hit my shield and not the arm beneath; from my viewpoint, his axe passed through without resistance. The flames about his axe flickered, but then rejoined along the edge of the crescent blade.

“You see, monster? My magic is more than yours!”

“Taste my wrath!” I spat back, unleashing the Jaws of Wrath.

Now hear me out on the logic, here. Jaws of Wrath attacked the spirit, not the body. His heavy armor, so effective against my blows, would do nothing to stop it. While angels and great spirits had mocked it as small, we mortals were made of ... mortal stuff.

So the increased Jaws, reinforced by my Wrath rating, was not an inconsequential attack. As someone reading this, rather than living it and knowing your life was on the line, you’ve already seen the downside, haven’t you?

Kornath was, apparently, never the most charismatic of warriors. He hadn’t needed to build up his Serenity to fend of angry spirits, petulant ghosts, or serve as a speed bump to beings mortals really shouldn’t even meet in their lifetimes.

With his howl, there was no doubt he had gone into emotional turmoil. He abandoned all pretense of skills, of strategy. He was being ridden like a horse by his emotions, the foremost in the lead.

Rage.

Laugh, I know I did later.

[You have been struck by a YELLOW critical ...]

[Champion point expended.]

[You have taken sixteen points of lacerating damage and six points of thermal damage.]

I sent, because it was blocking my view. That, and I’d been beaten up enough to know that I was still losing.

His next swing went wild, striking a guard in the spine. It parted with an audible crack, and the guard fell to his knees, but was a corpse by the time he fully hit the ground.

If I weren’t careful, that would be me.

I moved under his guard, struck upward into his armpit.

Chi strike does Neural damage, a physical type, but one most armors don’t protect against.

Kornath roared, sweeping his axe recklessly from side to side. I let him chase me around our shrinking arena, trying to keep just inside the ring where the guards were in danger.

Understand, I recognized the guards as enemies, but they were keeping the crowd out. I estimated two, maybe three guards before...

One of the guards was knocked prone, and the crowd swarmed into the arena.

“Back!” Kornath screamed. “Back! He’s mine!”

I was no stranger to carnage. I had seen worse. But to see even a fake Axe Hero attacking a mob of militia? It was like myself versus a mob.

It was like watching myself. Tears came freely to my eyes. What a monster!

Physically, I took a few steps back, drew in a few precious breaths. I ignored the spattering of blood, of severed parts, of brains.

I didn’t think I was beating Kornath through him running out of fatigue, but I let him burn through it all the same.

My plan had been so simple; how had it come to THIS?

The guards did what they’d been trained to do. They took steps backward, closed the gap, and resumed keeping the crowd out.

The ones in the front, I saw, had taken note of ... they were being pushed by people behind them, and most were pushing back.

Boneskarl stood from his chair. “The purity of the arena has been blemished. This duel is over!”

“IT IS NOT OVER!” Kornath screamed. “Ground Strike!”

He brought his axe down upon flagstones, which shattered like ice cubes. A wave of pressure expanded like a ripple on the surface of a pond. It was nothing compared to a vessel’s deck during a storm; I remained standing. Most of the guards remained standing; much of the crowd was flung about like rag dolls.

“No!” Kornath screamed as the crowds came in through three breaks in the line. “Get back! Back, you heretics! I’m winning! I’M WINNING!”

Not that I think that mattered to the people he was cleaving.

But I had my own problems. I was surrounded by grasping hands, by swinging clubs, by an occasional knife. The crowd swarmed thickly, often getting in its own way.

Gods!

I had taken my original form, hoping for the classical showdown, hero versus villain. Sheer stupidity, in hindsight. Of course, a crowd convinced I was the unholy one would be violent. Of course, they wouldn’t just stand by, even if their leaders told them too.

Well, okay. That, and I needed to avoid any penalties from fighting in an unfamiliar form.

They were taller than I was; the crowd tried to use that to their advantage. I broke wrists, crushed feet, dislocated kneecaps. But I couldn’t do it fast enough; I couldn’t even get time to count individual people.

And through it all, the screaming horror of Kornath just hacking his way casually through the crowd, seeking me.

Until he wasn’t.

“Get your hands off me!” Kornath screamed. “I am the Axe Hero, and... GRAAGH!”

“Clear the square!” someone screamed in their language. “For the love of Loki, get the people CLEAR of this madness!”

The ones nearest me didn’t care. Clubs fell from above. You’d think that most of their blows would be absorbed by my armor, and you’d be right. But there were enough such that my right eye was swelling shut, and my breathing was ragged, and... had someone stabbed me? I looked down at my belly, and the streaming blood said they had.

Such as I could, I dodged. I parried. I snapped my jaws at exposed limbs. Every new combination trick I’d planned to use on Kornath, I’d expended those uses per day just surviving the crowd.

Somehow, I was still wearing the right sleeve of my robe when I dodged into the stone fence. It was a waist high wall, or in my case midway between hip and rib cage. It struck me in my left side, and I slipped on something (probably blood) and went over.

My first thought was that the lawn was poorly watered. My second was to rise, before someone clubbed my skull while it was on the ground.

“Quit HIDING him!” Kornath roared. “I’ll kill you all!”

Gods, he was close.

Why hadn’t anyone killed me yet? I had time to wonder.

There were three of them. Red of skin, but clearly father, mother, and daughter. They were looking at me in dawning horror.

“It’s okay.” I said, “I’m leaving.”

I was on hands and knees; someone reached over the wall to grab my left shoulder. The hand pulled me upward; mostly by instinct I pulled down and away.

A man, his face contorted by anger, was dragged over the wall.

“Unholy one!” he spat at me. “My wife...”

I didn’t wait to hear about his wife. I’d gotten a knife from the crowd, and I plunged it into his chest. Into a lung, though I’d been aiming for his heart.

He spat blood at my face, but lacked the energy to make it reach. “I curse...” he said.

“Drown curse.” I said, pulling away from the dying man. The water bubble surrounded his head, but it was better than having it surround mine.

I coughed up blood. How badly was I injured? It felt like...

[You have 17/80 health remaining.]

This, and an entire vision full of three columns of...

I sent.

Nothing happened. I tried the same command, this time with first. They vanished.

“Okay.” I told the family. “NOW, I’m leaving.”

There was a gate; I went out, back into what was now a thinning crowd.

“Severing Strike!” Kornath roared, striking down someone’s grandmother.

A quick look revealed the guards outnumbered the standing civilians inside the courtyard. There were only eight of them.

“YOU!” Kornath roared, having no problems sighting me. He hurled his axe at my head; it lodged firmly in the door when I wasn’t there. “I will finish this! I will kill you!”

“Stand down!” Boneskarl yelled. “This duel is corrupted! Stand down.”

“Stand your own self down!” Kornath snapped back. “I am the hero. Heroes kill monsters.”

.....

He pointed at me. “THAT IS A MONSTER.”

“I am a monster.” I said, reaching to my left. “And I have your axe.”