Book 1: Chapter 56: Appease the Gods.

Name:One Moo'r Plow Author:
Book 1: Chapter 56: Appease the Gods.

Long, powerful strides carried me across the sculpted rock, towards the call of battle. Thoughts on whether or not I should even intervene were cast aside before they could form, only the hunger for righteous slaughter left in their wake. I was put unto this world to slay, and my purpose would be fulfilled before I went to meet my gods.

Cold fur rustled as I shook my head mid-step in an attempt to clear away the old Garek. These were his thoughts. This hunger for carnage that burned inside and drove me onwards. There was no way to deny the eagerness with which I charged forward, however. Legs flexed and hooves ripped up rock as I overtook the riders galloping back towards the fortress, then left them in my dust.

Walls of crimson stone rose before me, much larger than I had guessed from a distance. Warriors of all class and profession moved in haste, shouts echoing from the distance. None attempted to stop me, focused only on containing those within. The stone layout left me confused, and I suddenly found myself somewhat lost as I attempted to hastily navigate the unfamiliar fortress.

A second set of walls even thicker than the first lay within the inner ring, staircases filled with soldiers moving upwards. Cracks split the air, the sound of rock being violently broken as I glanced around in search of somewhere, anywhere to go.

I knew my worth, and determined I would be useless upon the walls. Ranged combat was far from my forte, and it would be too crowded for me to engage should the walls be climbed. A voice shouted directions at me from on high, and I followed the soldiers stabbing finger to find a singular opening in the smooth ring of stone. Large enough to hold me and then some, I saw.

One, single corridor was bored into the stone, and only when I approached did I appreciate how thick the wall was. Magically made, it spanned an entire distance, perhaps two-dozen of my body-lengths, barred with several steel portcullis.

Through the gaps in the steel, I could glimpse what lay outside. A killzone, ringed by massive walls of red rock surrounded a cliff face, from which poured long, thin, jagged nightmares. They bounded across the torn earth and blasted rocks with speed and jerking movements as destruction rained down from on high.

Streaks of lightning exploded from nothingness anywhere they clumped up, and fire fell from the skies above. The earth was warped, going soft beneath the monster's claws to drag them down and harden once more. Crossbow bolts and massive arrows shrieked through the shimmering air. Sheer waves of heat and flame distorted the air, bringing forth mirages as those attuned to the magicks let loose their might.

Long, slender darts of venom sped through the air in return, and from the screams above, they found targets with some regularity. Pillars of stone were ripped from the ground and vanished into the air with frightening speed, only the drop back down like titan fists moments later.

And for all this wroth and wrath, the flood could not be contained. They came, moving akin to blurs across the landscape.

Headed right for me.

The tunnel was just wide enough to swing the claymore, as I grunted and prepared for battle. Ironhide came first as I watched the roiling tide swell before me. Any fear I might have possessed was drown as battle-thirst reared its head and bellowed approval.

Finally, a worth slaughter. These were no small, weak monsters or frail humans such as inhabited these lands. Eldritch dread crawled across what I could glimpse of their features, and their hardened skin shrugged off all but direct hits of divine fury. Thickened Fur came next, my coat growing heavier as I waited breathlessly, eyes wide in refusal to blink.

A sinuous form leapt upwards, shrugged off a bolt of flame that washed across its back and crashed into the first portcullis. Cold, dead eyes regarded the interlocked steel as I did my damnest to keep my gaze locked on the creature. There was something wrong set in its appearance that tickled unawakened parts of my mind, beckoned me to look away.

Feel something, anything aside from the thrill of bloodlust that I could keep barely contained. I refused. Roars rumbled from within my throat, magnified by the rock around me as the creature tore through thickened steel with only moderate frustration. It stalked through the first gate and spat through the seconds bars at me.

One forearm came up just in time to block the acidic glob coming at my face. Fur sizzled and metal wrenched as the creatures tore through the next gate and charged right for me. Thoughts and calculations left my mind and I swung on pure instinct, wrenching to a brutal stab as the monster attempted the eat the blow and keep coming.

The claymores enchantments ripped through its hardened shell and splattered ichor across the walls as its claws fell short. More came, pouring through the shorn gates, acid flying through the air as they closed the distance. Witness the debut of this chapter, unveiled through Ñôv€l--B1n.

It stung, and that was all.

Scythe-ike claws scissored into my chest at blinding speed, my armored skin shorn right through. I gasped at venomous claws sliced into the flesh, muscles and precious organs that lay beneath. Shock took hold as claws moved like blurs to eviscerate me. Not one, but several monsters stabbed into my from all sides.

Only because I had seized It Will Not Die As I had fallen was my time on this world not ended here and now.

They tore my flesh apart, sank claw and fang into my being even as I thrashed, my rage breaking them apart.

I cast one off and staggered upwards even as more claws came to drag me down. Atop a mountain of carnage, beset on all sides and without another choice, I dipped with in and used all my strength and summon Blood for Blood.

The cacophony of shrieks nearly bled my ears as the masses writhed in pain, my wounds returned to them. One and all felt my pain, and they could not bear it. Dying rasps filled their corridor as those strong enough to survive the initial shock of their inside being torn apart still survived.

I clung to It Will Not Die with a singular determination and staggered up. The bloodletting was not yet over. The gods of violence demanded their tribute, and I would give it. Those that lived did not linger upon this mortal coil much longer. I assured that.

Until, finally, my grisly work was done.

It was then that I finally looked down and realized I would die the instant I released the Skill.

Potions. I needed something. Anything.

The way back out was choked with bodies, carcasses stacked high in tribute to some carrion lord. I tore through them with my bare hands, creating my own path. Ichor burned my hands and venom ran free as I hauled and hurled away corpse after corpse, all the while determined to not look down. Spare myself the sight of what lay exposed and torn.

The gathered force stared in silence as I emerged from the carnage, having braced here to receive any force that broke through the gate.

They would not have been enough.

But now, they stared at another monster, one covered in blood and ichor, body ripped apart and alive against all reason.

Stare later. I snarled, temples still pounding red. Fetch me a healer.

It was with some irony that I found myself holding a flagon full of my own milk, stuff I had sold to some soldiers so long ago. A figure I could not be bothered to give attention to assured me they were a Cleric, and could attend to my wounds. With one last sigh, I tipped the liquid into my mouth and collapsed backwards once it was empty.

Firm, gentle hands brought heat and light close to my body as consciousness faded in and out.

Bloodstained Berserker Level Thirty reached. Sleep to apply.

Finally.