Path of Transcendence 1: Ultimatum of the Nameless God (23 page)

*Opinions vary. Do you ever speak the truth or are all your words calculated to provoke other people?*

The shock on her face is almost comical, when I open my eyes. Both of her hands are on the hilts of her short swords.

*If you attack me, I'll beat you to the ground and let every drunken sailor around take a turn with you.*

Perzey backs away, her face a mask of fear.

*So, you finally understand. I'm the most dangerous motherfucker your likely to encounter in this ass-fuck nowhere zone. You really think you're using me to get your revenge? The only reason I'm here is to kill some Thuggies.*

I point at the dock.
*Sit there and keep quiet.*

Shivering, she sits on the dock and hugs her knees to her chest.

After crossing the delta in a hired boat, it took most of the morning for us to reach this point. A thin trail of smoke rises from the remains of one of the three small tents that were torn down, and there are four bodies on the ground, with swarms of black flies clustering on them. Nine buzzards are hissing at one another as they compete for the choicest parts, like eyeballs and exposed intestines.

Perzey's face is pale, as she crouches next to me. She is not used to seeing the scene of a real massacre from up close. You do not have insects and scavengers fighting over corpses in a modern hospital. Even working in a hospital, she would only be exposed to bodies with this kind of damage in a trauma ward or emergency room.

After not seeing any signs that the perpetrators are in the area, I move into the camp. From the tracks, the attack was carried out so swiftly there was never much of a fight. The bodies, all male, have been stripped of weapons, armor and equipment. Everything that remains in this small clearing is dead or ruined.

As the flies start swarming towards me, I bring up the ki aura, and they scatter in all directions. I am left standing in the center of a dome that is empty of all insects, very convenient.

Perzey immediately scampers into the clear space around me, while swatting at the biting flies. Her face pales slightly, when I stare at her, but the hungry darkness in her eyes has again returned in full force.

The routed buzzards are circling high above the clearing, but with our presence, they will not be landing anytime soon. They will have to wait for us to finish, before they can finish fighting over their brunch. At least, the meat is still relatively fresh, though one of the corpses was tortured, and they have already been picked at by scavengers.

Along the river, maybe three-quarters of a mile behind us, another flock of birds takes flight, startled by our pursuer. He is just as clumsy and oblivious to the world around him as Perzey.

*I think these were the people Thug Horde was following.*

I sit down outside the camp and start to meditate.

*What are you doing? Those bastards are getting further away, while you're sitting there!*

Without opening my eyes, I point at the ground near me. Bristling with anger, Perzey dawdles over and sits. She continues to fidget while glaring at me, but at least, she is not stupid enough to push my tolerance too far.

Our pursuer makes enough noise to wake a snoring orc, but Perzey still seems to be completely oblivious to her surroundings. Opening my eyes, I verify that it is Harkins hiding, very poorly hiding, in the brush.

“How badly do you want your sister's killer? How far are you willing to go to get her?” I use English, even if there are no Battleground residents around to overhear us.

“What do you mean?” Perzey's face is anxious, and a tiny bit of fear mixes with the hunger in her eyes.

“Strip and spread your legs.”

“What?” She is thoroughly nonplussed.

“Are you an idiot, rather than just a bimbo? I said strip and spread your legs.”

“Who the fuck do you think . . .” She freezes halfway to her feet, under my glare. As oblivious as she may be, she cannot mistake my clear intent to kill her.

“Do it! Now!”

Perzey's drops her sword belt to the ground and stands up. Her face flushes nearly scarlet, and her breathing deepens, as she fumble with the straps to loosen her hauberk.

“NO!” Harkins screams, as he stumbles out of the brush. Clumsily freeing his mace, he charges towards me, with his shield still on his back.

“Bob?” Perzey mumbles, her face blank from incomprehension.

“Keep your disgusting hands off her, you fucking son of a bitch!” Bob starts swinging, when he is still a couple steps away. The attack is so slow and telegraphed, that it almost looks fake.

I am so surprised by how pathetic his attack is, that I do not react until the last moment. Not bothering to stand, I sway slightly to the side. Grabbing his hand and pulling with my right hand, I hit him in the hip joint with a palm strike from my left hand, launching up and over my head.

“AAARRRR! … Ooofff!”

Perzey watches Harkins go flipping end over end and land hard on his back. The mix of hunger, awe, and disgust on her face is hilarious.

“Why did you stop stripping? Do you think Bob can save you from being used by me?”

Behind me, Harkins struggles to his feet. Lifting his mace high over his head, he swings it down at my head. With far too much tension in his muscles, his swing is slow, slow and lacking in real power. Leaning back, I let the mace slap into the palm of my hand stopping it cold.  As Harkins strains to force the mace down, I can feel his considerable strength. His strength is more than acceptable, and his speed should be the same. The problem is the he cannot properly use them, when his body should be well conditioned for doing so, and the memories of the original Harkins should provide the skills.

“Stop it! Don't hurt him!” Perzey's shriek startles more nearby birds into flight.

Releasing the mace, so that Harkins stumbles to the side, my hand flashes upward, slapping the side of Harkins helmet. As Harkins spins through the air, I frown at Perzey.

“Do I have to strip you myself? Get naked, bitch!”

Harkins half-rises to his feet, before stumbling and barely catching himself on his hands and knees. Wobbling as he forces himself to stand, Harkins stumbles toward me. His knees collapse under him, as my hand hits him in  the balls. My shove sends him rolling away.

“Eh? Bob's got nards. I thought you said he needs to grow a pair.”

“FUCKING BASTARD!”

Perzey pulls the swords from the sheathes at her feet and charges me. Just like Harkins, she is putting too much strength into her stabs, and it is stealing her speed and power. Her eyes go wide as the backs of my hands, hitting the flats of the blades, knock her swords aside. The surprise turns to pain as the tips of my fingers spear into the nerves in her wrists, and her swords go flying.

As Perzey stumbles, falling toward me, I slap the side of her face, slamming her into the ground at my side. Holding her down with one hand, I shove the other up under the lower edge of her byrnie, between her legs.

“NNNOOOOOO!”

Her wild shriek still echoing, I drag her up one-handed and throw her aside.

Harkins is curled into a ball, shielding his balls with his hands. Perzey rolls into a sitting position, hugging her knees to her chest. Her sobs and sniffles fill the clearing, as she cries pitifully.

I just watch them, filled with disgust. Their bodies and memories have all the skills to resist me at that level of power. Even faced with the threat of Perzey being molested and raped, neither of them could do more than get slapped around.

After a few minutes, Harkins crawls to Perzey and tries to hug her. Perzey angrily shoves him away, viciously slapping his head. Most of the slaps only land on Harkins helmet, but some strike him in the face. Harking falls to the ground again, shielding his face with his arms.

“Fucking bastard! Useless fucking coward! Leave me alone! Go die!”

“ENOUGH!”

My ki filled shout snaps both their eyes in my direction. Their faces filled with fear, they shiver, while staring at me.

“You're both pathetic. Your bodies are strong, trained for combat, and yet, you can't strike a proper blow against me. I didn't need to draw a weapon to fight you. I didn't need to use ki to destroy you. I didn't even fucking have to stand up! You can't have been this pathetic, when you thought you were playing a game. So, why the fuck don't you use the memories and skills those bodies have. This isn't a game! This is the only real world you have have anymore. If you  don't learn to fight, you'll be fucking dead!”

I point at Perzey. “You fucking thought you could use me for your revenge?”

I point at Harkins. “A pathetic piece of shit like you thought you could keep me from raping your woman?”

“I'm a mass murderer. I'm a freak. I'm dangerous. I'm scarred and hideously ugly. I'm not even human. You both think you're better than I am.”

I spring to my feet and draw my swords. “Better than me? You're trash. You're shit. You're damn right I'm fucking dangerous. I'm a fucking monster.  BEFORE I WAS MURDERED, I WAS FUCKING TALON!”

Their eyes are glued to the blades of my swords. Their fear has their eyes so wide, I can see the whites all around the irises. As I sheathe my swords, their eyes turn toward my face.

“Get up!” My voice is filled  with disgust.

They do not move. Just laying on the ground, they stare at me in terror.

“I said, GET THE FUCK UP!”

Trembling, they rise to their feet.

“How many women were in the group Thug Horde was following.”

Perzey stares at me blankly, fear and confusion showing in her eyes. She is still too traumatized for her mind to switch tracks.

“Perzey! The party Thug Horde was chasing, how many women?”

She shakes her head, her mouth soundlessly opening and closing. Something besides fear flashes in her eyes.

“Um … two, I think. Yes. Two. Two women.”

I point at the destroyed camp. “There are only the corpses of four men here. Somewhere ahead, the Thuggies are having a good old fashioned rape party. Go back to Bogwater and try to catch up with the rest or follow me, I don't give a fuck what you do.”

I start walking down the trail.

“Helen, how can you follow him? He almost raped you. Come with me, I'll protect you.”

Perzey's laugh is filled with spiteful mockery. “You protect me? How they fuck can you protect me? While he was groping me, you were rolling around on the ground hugging your balls, like a little faggot. Go away, Bob.”

Stumbling footsteps are followed by a slap.

“Helen! Please!”

“Fuck you, Bob! Helen's dead! I'm fucking Perzey! I'm going follow him and learn to be strong! Go die somewhere, like the faggot you are. You know what Bob? When he threw me down and groped me, it made me wet. My nipples are still hard. Go away, Bob.”

The hatred and contempt in her voice almost make me laugh. I do not know how she will learn to become strong. Unless she can break through her Earth mentality and accept the memories and skills in that body, she will never have a chance.

My hands feel like they are tingling. That body of hers belonged to someone of far better than average skills. The supple muscle tone in those legs and the smooth silk like skin, it will not be easy to forget the feel of them. The face is only on the better side of average, but that body.

After a minute or so, the sound of rapid footsteps approaching from behind reaches my ears. I turn to see Perzey running lightly in my direction. The smooth movement of her body is far more natural than when she was fighting. Why does she run so naturally and fight so rigidly?

As she reaches my side, Perzey's eyes turn toward the ground, and she matches the length of her stride to mine. The top of her head is bobbing along at about the height of my nose. She is about average height, and even if her muscles are extremely well defined, her build is still slender, with the exception of those rather large tits. Assuming that is the original Perzey's gear, she was a two weapon fighter who relied far more on speed and agility than armor. Even if it were only steel, my chainmail would weigh at least four times what her light hauberk does.

As though she feels my eyes on her, Perzey turns to look at me. I never paid attention to her eye color before, but they are a silvery grey, that resembles the color of steel blade. The hunger is still there, with a healthy dose of fear. Her tanned skin is smooth and soft looking, still not roughened by exposure to the elements.

“Teach me how to be strong, strong like you.”

“You can't be.”

Her soft pink lips part, as her face twists in dismay, and shock fills her eyes.

“I'll do whatever you tell me. Anything! Just teach me how to be strong. I need to be strong like you!”

Turning from her, I keep walking, and she follows. She stalks along at my side, as the sun falls toward the western horizon. When the sky turns black with clouds, and the late afternoon rains turn the trail to a sucking quagmire, she struggles to maintain my pace, while I walk on the surface of the mud, buoyed by my ki.

With the sun below the horizon and the clouds breaking up to reveal the brilliant stars, I stop in a clearing next to the river. The flow of the water has dug a small lagoon in the river bank, where the current does not flow. The next flood season may fill it with mud or erode more of the bank, but for now it is a calm pool for travellers to rest beside.

Perzey drops to the ground, exhausted. I do not bother forcing her to help set up camp. She is so incompetent at the simplest things, she is more of a hindrance than a help in making camp.

As I build a fire, Perzey sits up, her stare boring into me, but I ignore her.

“I don't care what it takes. I don't care what you demand of me. I will be strong like you.”

I sigh. “You can't be. You can't follow my path to strength. You don't have enough hate inside of you. You haven't felt enough pain. So much pain that you want to kill everyone who looks at you with contempt or pity. Enough hate that you want to rip the smiling faces off of everyone around you. Your life has been too easy for you to find my kind of strength.”