Chapter 15: Arc 2 – Chapter 1: Journey to the Northwest

In the barren plains of the frontier lands, where there are hardly what one can call roads...

 

Life can take a savage turn...

 

And the rule of the strong is law...

 

"Have mercy! Pleeeaase!"

 

"Hahahaha! Come on! Beg! SCREAM!"

 

As a ruthless looking man with no top pulled down his leathers, he mounted the crying young woman and thrust himself into her.

 

She screamed as he viciously kept entering her, but that was soon drowned out by the roaring laughter surrounding them as more brutal looking men watched as they await their turn.

 

The entire scene was one of carnage and depravity as the remains of what was once a small caravan with two wagons has become a place of rutting, sweat, and blood.

 

The bodies of men, simple peddlers and their guards, littered the area. On the side, two more women were made playthings by the cruel bandits, humiliating them thoroughly for the trouble they gave them when they tried to escape their pursuit.

 

Sitting in a lordly way in one of the carriages, a dark rust-colored "man" with a long face, dreadlocks, tribal tattoos, and small tusks pointing upwards stared at the men with cold but fierce eyes.

 

A similar but larger "man" with his dreadlocks in a ponytail approached him from the side.

 

"Chief, the haul is decent enough with the supplies and the women, but the weapons are only few. It seems they're just another family of peddlers hoping to make a future in Orgo."

 

"Mmm."

 

The man called Chief simply mumbled in acknowledgement as his eyes suddenly narrowed from a pained scream.

 

"Aaaaaaaaah!"

 

They both looked on with a sour expression as they saw one of the women with short brown hair had one of her arms broken by the men as they laughed and cursed at her.

 

"Tch... I'm sorry Chief. Most of the men are still venting their frustration on that adventurer woman. After all, of the three men we lost, two were due to her."

 

The Chief stood up and hoisted his double axe over his shoulder to sheathe it.

 

"... Tell the men they're not allowed to break the women any further. I have no need for useless sex dolls, and our hands at the camp are sorely lacking.

We wasted almost two days chasing after them and lost three men. I'm not letting them go to waste just because the men are "upset"."

 

As he was about to leave, he turned and looked at the other man.

 

"Also... they're not to touch the two brats tied in the back. The slavers pay good money for them while they're young, but they're worth crap once they're dirtied. If someone dares to go against my order, I'll cut their damn dicks off myself. Is that clear, Doruk?"

 

The man called Doruk beat his chest with his right fist twice in acknowledgment then turned.

 

"Oi you lot! That's enough! The Chief wants us ready to move out! Those caught with their pants still down will be made to work in the Warg den for a fortnight!"

 

The men grumbled their dissatisfaction but none dared to question the Chief's order. His might and savagery is well known throughout the frontier lands, making his word in this vast wasteland absolute.

 

Soon, they assembled into 20 horse riders lead by the Chief and Doruk on top of two great wolves. Bringing along the two wagons, they set off causing a dust storm in their tracks.

 

The land soon became still...

 

With only the scavengers coming out to feast on the corpses...

 

...

 

...

 

Two hours after I left the vicinity of the Dread Cavern's mountain, I was fortunately able to maintain my flight albeit shakily towards the northwest.

 

At first, I was really excited with my first flight but after two hours of nothing but rocks, dirt, and weeds, things quickly became pretty dull.

 

I did see something like a caravan earlier but as I drew closer they started shooting arrows and bolts of magic at me.

 

Sheesh. You'd think they haven't seen a flying man before...

 

From my dad's books I read there was a race of avians but I guess they're not pretty common around here.

 

Moving on, I eventually saw another traveling caravan, but this one was smaller with only two wagons... another major difference is that they are currently under attack by a group of bandits...

 

Alright! Looks like I'll finally be able to test out my training AND score some good guy points with the locals! Let's just hope they'll be grateful enough to not run from me or attack me...

 

...

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The two wagons were madly dashing from the bandits while kicking up a dust storm, but were still unable to lose them.

 

The people were frantically tossing out excess weight or anything that can be thrown out of the wagons that they believed could somehow help make them move faster.

 

“This is your fault, boy! You told us the path was safe, but then we got surrounded by some of Bolgruk’s men! You’re the death of us!”

 

A boy, somewhere in his teens, was panicky as he was nocking an arrow when he heard what the man said.

 

He couldn’t help but grit his teeth since it was indeed he who thought the location was safe when he informed his employers. He was only following his senior’s instructions when he informed them, but he couldn’t help but feel that he was to blame, especially since some of the people were staring daggers at him.

 

“Enough! There’s no point in blaming the boy now. Besides, we all thought the same when we discussed the routes and we were going to use it even if he didn’t point it out. If you’re all just going to complain, you might as well be helping with getting those damned dogs off our tail!”

 

The short sharp-toned bearded man who scolded the people in the wagon was his employer. The man was a veteran Dwarf merchant and knew the routes that were generally safe, but today it seemed his luck had run out, as he never expected an ambush in one of the normally patrolled routes.

 

‘It’s strange… The boy was right in thinking that the route should be safe since this region was scheduled to have a patrol this day. Only a few trusted adventurers and merchants would know of this. Did they suddenly change the schedule? But then that would cause problems like our current situation. It would also serve the bandits no good to attack the guard patrols that possessed better equipment and training. Even if they did, they wouldn’t come out unharmed and be able to attack us immediately.’

 

*thud*

 

As the Dwarf merchant was pondering this, an arrow flew in and struck one of the crates.

 

“Tch… tell the drivers to move in an irregular manner to prevent the bandits’ arrows from reaching us! Quickly!”

 

As the merchant yelled this, they suddenly came to a stop.

 

“Oi! Why’d you bastards stop!?”

 

The man who blamed the boy earlier cried out to the driver, but the driver's response soon made all their expressions freeze over in despair.

 

“I’m sorry! We’re surrounded! They came from in front of us!”

 

Left with little choice, the Dwarf merchant ordered everyone to barricade themselves within the wagon. The adventurers hired to protect them all had a grim expression as they understood what they must do.

 

Coming out of the wagons, the 8 adventurers formed a line as if to protect the wagons.

 

Seeing their mark come to a stop, the 10 bandits along with the additional 5 that came from the front were leisurely coming closer until they made a full stop in front of the adventurers.

 

“Haha! Boss Muld! Looks like they easily fell for the trap!”

 

A bulky man with short messy mud-colored hair and a scar across his right cheek looked at the small caravan like a hunter who has caught his prey.

 

“Hahaha! What did I tell you boys? As long as you listen to good ol’ Muld, then the chief will definitely give us the places with a good catch!”

 

As the bandits laughed boisterously, Muld saw one the adventurers was a shaking young boy who barely held on to his sword. He then thought of an idea for a good show.

 

“Look at that boys! One of them adventurer’s a brat who fancies himself a man! Let’s see if he has the balls of one then, ey?”

 

The boy from earlier tensed up when he heard this. While he may be an adventurer, he was still a newbie who hardly knew the tools of the trade, let alone having fought and actually killed a man.

 

“Alright brat. Why don’t you “fight” and show us the strength of the “great” adventurers, ey?”

 

Wanting to kill the boy as a signal to their assault, he readied his broadsword for an overhead swing.

 

The boy’s legs froze while he felt something warm flowing between his legs. The bandit before him seemed like an unstoppable giant. His life before him flashed and he couldn’t help but feel regret when he remembered deciding the route they used…

 

*BOOM*

 

Just as the great giant appeared to cleave him, it soon disappeared along with a small quake and a metallic thundering sound as if a huge lump of metal fell from the sky.

 

He looked down at the shattered ground and saw a massive pool of blood coming from underneath something that looks like a large paddle with an anvil at its tip.

 

“Ah crap! How pathetic… to think I dropped it… “

 

The boy instinctively looked up as he heard a strong gruff but deep voice like that of a warrior’s and he saw it; a being with the mighty form of a dragon in the shape of a man.

 

As it flew down and landed on its feet, it picked up the slab of metal from earlier and swung it down spraying the blood from it onto the ground. It then hoisted it onto its armored right shoulder.

 

“Let’s see… a cool one-liner… got it… “

 

As it mumbled something incomprehensible, it then pointed the metal slab at the bandits.

 

“Hey bastards… Pick a god and pray!”

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