Henri hits the ground. Hard. Too hard.
The collar protection Artifact encases him in a translucent white shell. I can still see the gory mess I've made of his head.
I thought he was stronger.
Seriously. This is bad. The skull has completely caved inward and shattered, with brain matter scattered about.
Isn't he top 100? Does Henri have an F in Vigor? Or am I just inept at controlling my strength? Honestly, I'm a bit shaken. I don't like making mistakes.
I snap out of my daze. The Dim will take care of Henri. Honestly, I hope he dies.
Valeria holds a sword toward the final adversary, Nelly, who wields a single puny dagger.
"Yield," Valeria menacingly commands. She's frightening.
Nelly is wide-eyed, her eyes flicking to Valeria, to me, to her incapacitated teammates—lingering on Henri—then back to us.
"Shit," she curses. "What the hell did you do to Henri?"
"Probably killed him," I smirk as I approach, now taking the sword off my hip.
"You're a devil," Nelly spits at my feet. "Rot in the Hells, bastard!"
"Was an accident," I shrug with a smile. "At least I had the courtesy to clobber him in the back of the head—he can keep his pretty face. That hollow brain of his, though, maybe not so much."
"Winds! Heed my call!" Nelly begins a hasty incantation, a white glow emanating from her free hand. "The air is yours to—"
In the blink of an eye, Valeria slips into her weak, unfocused guard.
A vicous hook to the mouth sends Nelly to the ground, her spell faltering as quickly as it began.
The Bloody Wolf shows no courtesy. Nelly's relatively unflattering face is ruined from the punch, dyed a thick crimson.
"Bashhthuhd," Nelly cries, limply coughing blood onto the ground—and several teeth.
Valeria pins the still-conscious, thrashing girl to the ground.
┌─────═━┈┈━═─────┐
C-Rank Human slain.
►Misty Step Collected
└─────═━┈┈━═─────┘
Wow.
Wowww.
…
I've truly gotten bold these days, haven't I?
I look up at the high sun. Eclipsing it is the cylindrical hidden camera Artifact, ominously watching us massacre this group of weaklings.
For a few odd seconds, I merely stare. Endangered hyperventilates. This unnerves me. I am thoroughly rattled, the fearful creature that I am. But I don't show it.
Never.
Maybe I'm not made for the spotlight—no theatrics in the limelight, just brutality. A brutish creature who thinks he's more. Maybe so.
After all, I have nothing else to show the crowd, other than my handiwork, dead within a white cocoon. They can't tell if he's dead or alive. The Dim will know, however.
I have millions of eyes on me. Tens of millions. Perhaps hundreds.
And they've just watched me kill a Margrave.
The consequences will catch up to me later. Business time now.
"Nicklas!" I call out to my pack mule.
Silence, for a few seconds. Then the bushes rattle, and Nicklas appears out of the woodwork.
"You guys have really… uh… really messed them up," he awkwardly chuckles to himself as he walks into the camp's clearing. He sees Henri and goes sickly pale. "Whoa."
"He'll be fine," I lie. Can't have my pack mule throwing up over a bit of gore.
With a practiced hand, Nicklas deftly ties up the no-longer-squirming Nelly. Trying to break free from Valeria's grasp has to be one of the most futile actions you could ever take.
Nicklas does the same for the deeply unconscious Samuel, though he signals to me to help him move the big ball of lard, whose heavy limbs are sprawled out.
"You," Valeria points to me after standing up.
"Hmm?"
A brief thumbs up is my reply. The beast does love her carnage as much as she loves food.
Speaking of, Valeria helps herself to the large bird—turkey, I suppose—cooked over the fire. It's far too burnt, but her ravenous lead belly doesn't care at all. Raw or burnt, it's going down the chute.
I look up at the camera again. It seems the broadcasters have grown bored, as the Artifact has gone back to being invisible. We're in the clear.
I was previously wondering why Leara was so uncaring about the cameras, speaking freely about our plans and all. Initially, I'd assumed that we were being spied on completely.
That doesn't seem to be the case; the camera only appears when the broadcasters anticipate action.
The invisible cameras, on the other hand, seem to only record actions outside of buildings without audio. And no doubt, there are observational devices on the Oak of Augustus' deck for the privileged there to watch with personalized intensity. It circles the island counter-clockwise, ever so slowly.
I grab Nelly by the collar, dragging her to the trunk of a nearby.
Propped up on the tree, she tries to spit blood at me, but it's so weak and pathetic that the blood and spit just dribble down her chin.
"What…" She has to take a deep breath to finish. Her floppy eyes show a slight loss in lucidity. "Do you want?"
"Just a bit of information."
"Fuck… you."
SMACK.
Nelly's swollen cheek turns even redder, her eyes even more distant and unfocused. I'll have to ease up already.
"It's super simple," I say in a fake, cheery voice. "Tell me what you know about Sebastian Cossa's whereabouts."
Before Nelly speaks, the whirring sound of Essence floods my senses.
The Dim has come to collect the body.
The medical airship lands, mostly covering the camp. Two masked personnel step out, picking up the white cocoon and loading it into the cargo hold.
One of them gives me a long staredown. I play dumb. Playing it off as an accident—which it was—will get me out of trouble, surely. Casualties were to be expected in this loose format.
They take off as quickly as they landed.
"They didn't respond that quickly to the guys I beat up," Valeria makes a surprisingly astute observation in between crunchy, burnt bites of turkey.
Even she had more restraint than I. Good to know, I guess.
I look back at Nelly. Her eyes are wet, a silent flood of tears taking hold.
And fear. The live shattering of an innocent's world.
One day, all Humans will feel this pain. Today, I start with a spoiled, overgrown weed of a noble.