Hey, being a woman is actually pretty good!
Thinking this, the transformed Hero of Healing walked Buranikka’s alleyways. That carefree wind, blowing under his skirt felt relieving and actually really novel. Not that Keyaruga awakened the taste for cross-dressing, though. It wasn’t his first time, after all. At some point he was a, what’s it called, a poor man’s substitute for a girl at Blade’s cruel mercy.
No, the pros lied elsewhere.
“He-he, thank you, boys!” Keara flirtatiously said, after two careless spearmen from Norn’s troops (apparently, too drunk to keep their mouths shut) told her some intel, specifically about when they would ‘liberate’ Buranikka. Four days. With Adrian Mirt’s denial of the princess’ ‘kind’ offer, the machine of war was set in motion. “Say, do you know where I can find that… Hero of the Sword?” The healer asked at the end.
“Pff, why would you need that jerk? Play with us, babe!” A soldier replied, trying to grab Keara. The latter, though, dodged that sign of affection in a swift pirouette, after which…
“Pretty please. I want to see him so, so much!” The hero tried his luck with another tinhead.
“Nah, you don’t.” The trooper said, but with Keara caressing his stubble with her index finger… “All right. Don’t say I didn’t warn you…”
And so, the man revealed the place. A bar at the center of Buranikka in dangerously close proximity to the city hall, Norn’s new headquarters, guarded by Hawkeye himself. Quite a challenge, actually.
“Thank you, big boy!” Keyaruga bid his farewells and turned away. It felt weird, to say the least. On one side, he enjoyed the obvious advantage over feeble men, but it also stirred his old wounds.
Either way, now that he knew where to look for one of his nemeses, the healer made his path toward her. Blade, Josephine, no matter the name, she was just as bruised by life as the lad himself. They were forged by the same anvils, but the woman prolonged the cycle of brutality. Keyaruga, no matter the influence of Flare, saw himself in that monster. And it aggravated him no less than the pain that that parody of a fencer caused him.
All the time he felt an unsettling pressure. As the camouflaged man stepped over the darkest parts of Buranikka, a weird tension kept pushing on him. It wasn’t fear, though, as the healer literally denied his adrenal glands from producing the germane hormones. Someone was following him. Was I spotted? Or did the girls defied my order? High time for…
“Phe-he-he! Ya, look wha’ ‘e’ve got ‘ere! Lucky us!” In the end, all the suspense was broken by some band of hobos.
“Ah, fuck ya, assprick! I saw her first!” Another prowler got better of his comrades and grabbed Keara from the back. Arms behind the back, mouth closed — competent moves, yet the hero felt really underwhelmed.
“Shut your trap, pad (fag), bitch’s common!” The last moron, presumably the leader of the three, slapped the grappler’s nape. The latter remained standing, he even kicked his fellow prowler with the elbow.
“I’m first, motherfuckers!” He snarled, pressing seemingly defenseless girl to himself. Keyaruga, for obvious reasons, felt no threat, but he was disgusted enough to not let this charade reach a point after which he would have to kill the stench. “A- AGH! WHATTA FUCK?!” The grappler yelled, as the hero executed a shoulder throw on him.
“You really don’t know how to choose your targets, friends.” Keara sneered, grabbing a perfume vial from within the bra… somehow. “I’m practically a demigod! How can you rape a demigod? What a great and intoxicating innocence! How could you be so naïve?” The healer scoffed, applying the aromatic to rid of the foul smell. “There’s still a chance of escape. Otherwise, no gods will save you from me.” The hero added, while making a shooing gesture with the left hand. He already had a pretty neat idea of how to utilize that (un)fortunate accident.
“Ha… PHA-HA-HA-HA-HA-HA!!! Get ‘er, men!” Alas, as he was now, Keyaruga lacked any sort of intimidation.
All three hobos rushed at Keara. She met them with nothing but bare fists… and the next second the grappler was down with his jaw severely dislocated, and blood leaking from the torn cheek.
“Well-well, one down and two remain. Please, don’t struggle. You stand no chance, but I’d like to keep my dress clean.”
…
It’s been a rough day, but everything was finally in their appropriate places. Keara was walking right inside Norn’s domain, three morons, relieved of the burden of their faltering humanity, were shackled in the dead maniac’s shack, and the hero’s companions were saved from being bait for a psychotic swordswoman. Everything was going pretty well.
“What a dazzling little hole we’ve got here.” Keyaruga flouted, giving a good look at the bar. Unnecessarily decorated, it reminded him of the slave market he had a pleasure of burning down. Prior to entering, though, the hero had to at least shake out the dress, as the premise’s atmosphere itself repelled the commoners. Keara was a daughter of a noble blood, a lady from the high society.
And so, the graceful persona entered the bar, triggering the chimes. She was greeted by a couple of silent guardsmen in full plate armor. It was not a pleasant place. Pro-human magnates gathered there, speaking of the upcoming salvation from their tribalistic competitors and the following reintegration into Jioral’s economy. The Pipe organ’s symphony reminded the healer of the hateful church of Faran, and at the counter sat his prey. Blade, the Hero of Sword, had been emptying cup after cup, trying to find some peace in the strong alcohol. Alas, it never worked. Although she never obtained the resistant to poisons in any way, her sword covered that weakness by constantly healing the blonde. Ah, yes. Drinking to forget, but you forgot to put away your chunk of healing iron. An imbecile is always an imbecile.
Nevertheless, he was glad to see the ever neurotic Blade for once. That meant he wouldn’t have to chase his tribute. A gift of love, which transcended time itself.
“Something soft, master.” Keara said to a grayed gentlemen behind the counter.
“As you wish.” The man replied with ominously cold voice. The healer could swear he saw long fangs among his teeth. Nice work, gardener. Seems like I won’t have to cleanse this place for you, after all.
“He-e-ey! First time here?” Blade finally turned her head toward Keara.
“I am. Are you a regular here?” The camouflaged man responded to the Hero of Sword. She looked positively awful. Greasy hair, bags under her eyes, the monstrous stench of liquor from her mouth. Usually, Blade’s tall stature commandeered respect or infatuation. Now? Now it reeked of despondence.
“I’m actually too. A newbie here, I mean.” The fencer spoke with a soft smile. Even in this sorry state she was quite charismatic, one must admit. At this moment the bartender presented Keara with her cocktail. A creamy drink of yellow and gold combined in a mix of berry sweetness and a barely noticeable alcoholic tang. “Wanna tell you, what’s good here?” Blade asked, snatching Keara’s drink to shamelessly gulp the remaining liquid. “Hey, m… man! My favorite!” The cross-dressing swordswoman demanded from an old gentleman. Only the gods know, how much she had to hold back not to spew something offensive. Either way, the vampire silently gave the hero two glasses with bluish drinks. And obviously, Blade drank it in one mindless gulp. “Kha-a-a! That’s what I needed! Drink, kitten! It’s all on me!”
That was a rare occasion. Usually, the Hero of Sword behaved like a well-mannered man, but at the moment she rather reminded Keyaruga of his dirty victims.
“S-sorry. I don’t think drinking on a stranger’s expense is a good thing.” The healer replied plaintively. Masterful acting was one of the skills his cruel mentor had taught him.
“Ho-o? I’m not a stranger! I’m Blade! The Hero of Sword and the pillar for all of Jioral!” The woman boastingly introduced herself. It sounded… awful, to say the least.
“Wow! I can’t believe it!” The masquerading hero exclaimed dramatically. “Blade himself!”
“Now you know me, kitten.” The blonde spoke, moving her cup toward Keara. “Come on, don’t be shy.”
“Al… Alright. For Jioral, then.”
“For Jioral!”
And so, they clanked their glasses, and Keara made a humble sip.
“Hey, what do you think of-…”
That was a starting point of a long, yet not that unpleasant conversation. The two spoke of politics, the future of Jioral and the humanity as a whole, a few topics about how ‘all demons must die’, rumors of the survived first princess’ part in Bloodbringer’s demise, but mostly about the modern fashion in clothes and cosmetics. The Hero of Sword didn’t seem that big of a dork, even if the healer noticed her nervous tremble from time to time.
And all that time Blade insisted on Keara having more and more drinks. A common technique to drag a woman to your bed, Keyaruga even used it on Kureha recently. But if he had left the Swordmaster in one piece, some of Blade’s victims weren’t so lucky. Memories of countless beatings and excruciating tortures wriggled in the back of the lad’s brain, but none had shaken his masterful smile.
The time was flowing fast, its merciless currents approached the ultimate culmination of this evening.
“I think I should go.” Keara said, looking at the window, at the blue night sky.
“Oh no, my kitten! It’s too late, you shouldn’t walk all alone. You should spend this night at my place. It’s safe there.” The fencer spoke, tapping the handle of her massive blade. Right… You’re the most dangerous bitch to be around, actually.
“I am sorry, but to follow a man in his house… Ugh!.. I need to use a restroom.” The healer said, pretending to be nauseous.
“Oh, I’m sorry! I must’ve gotten carried away.” Blade answered with a grain of salt and scorn in her voice. Even on the verge of a mental collapse, the Hero of the Sword hid her vile nature behind a mask. And now it shattered.
“Just… Excuse me!..” Keara exclaimed, holding onto her mouth. A dramatic retreat was yet another part of this long play.
Keyaru was a descendant of farmers, a native to his village. But no amount of nostalgia for his motherland could ever wash away his admiration to the urban lavatories for higher classes. A pump, where one could wash their hands, diligently washed seats, so unlike despicable cesspits, full-fledged doors, favoring one’s comfort and privacy. This time, though, the premise served its purpose as well as being a vantage point.
I see what you’re doing there, scum. Trying to trick me into the last drink, filled with benzodiazepines? Too bad, it’s not going to work on me.
When the healer left one of the stalls and approached one of the washbasins, he couldn’t help but stare at his reflection. This time, though, it wasn’t erotic admiration that he found there, but actually a depressed mug of vanity. This mask was getting heavier. And so too did keeping the smile.
“Haa… Well, time to get myself drugged, then.” Keara said with a carefully crafted feminine mirth. The healer wouldn’t have to bear it for much longer. He headed toward his fated vis-à-vis. But before that, he waved his slim hand to that single crimson fly, hanging on the window. “Wish me luck, Malcolm.”
Blade, the Hero of Sword, was anything but a mentally stable person. She was constantly shifting between apathy, fleeting lesbian romances, and episodes of uncontrollable anger. In all fairness, not all of her one-night partners left raped, beaten, or both.
The woman was literally worshipping Flare. Everyone else was either a temporal replacement of that idol, or… an outlet for all the traumas that scourged her soul.
The wisest way for a young maiden would be to leave immediately. But Keyaruga was anything but.
“My apologies, I think I drank too much.” The hero said, returning right to his seat, still warm, by the way. Blade was there, with three more emptied glasses. This time, though, Ragnarok rested on the counter. A perfect opportunity to murder her once and for all… but no, she had to suffer.
“Aww, I thought you left me, kitten.” The blonde said, resurfacing to the real world. “You… Ehm… You’re still going home?”
“Y-yes. Father would be mad, if I don’t show up.” The masquerading man said pitifully.
“Pff… Fa-a-ather…” Blade repeated with an excruciating sorrow in her voice. Funnily enough, this wasn’t really about this made-up parent being a man even. Keyaruga just stepped over her old wound. “Alright, alright… But first, one last drink from me. A small gift, for keeping me entertained.” The Hero of Sword said, regaining her frail composure.
“I don’t… think I can drink so much. Would you… have a sip first?” The healer replied, making a counter-move to the blonde’s ultimate trap. At that point, he literally laughed in his mind. What if she drinks it like an imbecile she is? What if her trickery fails into shambles? What if-?..
Well, at first, the fencer grabbed her sheathed sword and put it on her back. Clever, that way Ragnarok could heal her instantly. But that wasn’t all. Indeed, the woman did take the drink into her mouth…
“Uh?.. Nnhm!..” And then Blade grabbed Keara’s chin for a kiss. Then, she violently poured the poison right into the ‘maiden’s’ mouth. “Kha-kha! What’re you doing?!”
“Why? Just wanted to give you a taste of this delicious liquor, my kitten.” Blade scoffed in a victorious pose. Keyaru… felt nothing, really. He didn’t even need a fully-functioning liver in his body, since every toxin was just digested into mana in his body (other its functions w..ere manually delegated to other organs). But still, a play is a play. “Oh my, are you feeling tired? Maybe you did have a little too much! What a shame! I’m going to take you to my house, then!” The fencer yelled, as if trying to attract as much attention, as possible. Honestly, though, nobody really cared. And those who did, only knew about Blade’s most recent crime and either didn’t care or were too scared to do much of anything about it. But hey, what can you do to a hero, huh?
Either way, the blonde cross-dressing woman took fading Keara into her arms and walked away. Her home… Obviously, with the hero being there for but two days, there was no way she could just purchase some building. Take it away from someone else? Easily done.
The night grew cold. Unnerving winds wrapped the Hero of Healing in a freezing embrace. He was too used to his clothes, and the narrow dress felt too narrow, too feeble for any sort of protection. Not from Blade, that’s for sure.
Keyaruga frankly felt like he was missing his chance. Just one touch, and his enemy will fall helpless. How about cutting off the entire body but head and lungs? Experimenting with the bare minimum of human’s body? Wouldn’t that be fun?
“Ha-a!” These pleasant thoughts were cut short, with some old looking man emerging from the corner. He didn’t really look that weak. Nor his equipment. The vigilante braced for a lunge, he used a longsword with both hands, effectively nullifying the narrow alley’s limitation. Thrust after thrust, he pierced Blade’s right hand, her shoulder, the chest… Well, only the clothes. Golden light engulfed her body, invigorated the hero’s flesh. The blonde psycho was actually having fun, watching an objectively capable fighter failing to penetrate her armor or muscles.
Until she didn’t.
“Hey-he-e-ey! The fuck is this all about?” Blade quarried, catching the sword with her bare hand.
“You… You maimed my daughter, scum! And not only…” The vengeful father replied with a cold hatred, glancing toward Keara, who the former didn’t want to hurt. He tried to retake control over his weapon, but the fencer’s grip was too strong.
“Daughter? Ehm… Wait, which one? A-a-a… Lurishia? Marianna? Maybe Eris? Sorry, too many to count.” Blade admitted with all honesty. On some days she couldn’t even recall, where the blonde was, let alone remembering all of her one-night lovers.
“It’s Nina!” The avenger snarled, overflowing by the fiery wrath. In one moment, he let go of his blocked weapon…
“Nina? I don’t rem… A-A-A-A-AH, FUCK!!!” …just to drive a narrow stiletto into the hero’s uncovered armpit. Keyaru would applaud, if he wasn’t playing an incapacitated victim. Especially when the old man turned it and dragged along the bleeding flesh. “GHIA-A-A-A-A!!!” Hearing Blade scream like a pig was worth every second of tormenting pretense.
Alas for the sole avenger, his luck ended here and there. The yammering woman dropped the sword she was holding, but her blind rage was enough to backhand the enemy with the wounded arm and kick him away.
“FUCK! FUCK! FUCKING MAN-PI-I-IG!!!” Alas for the second one, the blonde yeeted Keara’s body right into the man. “A-A-A-A-A-a-a… Oh… I shouldn’t have done that.” And so, in but a few moments, Blade shifted from a sheer agony to an indifferent comment. Her grievous wound was mended with the power of the holy blade.
The Hero of Healing, though… Well, suffice to say, his state wasn’t all that good. Caught in the air, his feminine body was flying right onto the armed man. He didn’t lose his balance from the kick, but the punch to the face left him disoriented. If nothing was done, Keara would get impaled with the bloodied stiletto. Not something the healer couldn’t survive, but still.
The masquerading man swung in a flip and landed with his feet on the man’s shoulders.
“Ugh…” They collapsed on top of each other, but the hero instantly regained his posture and didn’t get stabbed.
“Hey, you. The potion, it worked?” Keara briefly asked, turning toward Blade, who… tried to stomp the abandoned sword in two. A foolish endeavor, as the metal strip just flexed all the damage.
“H-how do you-?..” Nina’s father wasn’t in the best shape. It seemed, the blonde managed to break a rib or two in his chest. Still, with Keara standing between him and the psychotic hero, he felt like he owed her an answer. “It… It worked. But she’s now crying all day.”
“I see… Didn’t I warn not to get involved? Get the hell out of here, before I killed you myself, moron!” He chased away the old man and took out a mythril dagger from below the hem of his dress. Fortunately, the vigilante thought fast. He fled. Just as he should’ve.
“Heh! You’ve surprised me, little one! I thought you passed out from my sleeping pills! Also, you’re good with your legs! I like you even more now!” And what of Blade? This one didn’t even flinch. As if the avenger didn’t even exist for her. The blonde was having genuine fun.
“…” What in the hell are you grinning about, bastard?!
“Playing mute, are we, kitten?” The Hero of Sword made her first step. And the second… “Hey, who are you? Don’t tell me! An assassin? You came for my life? Oh, I’m so proud of myself! No? Not an assassin? I’m better ask your…” In a single move, Blade drew her massive sword and made the first slam. “…BODY!!!”
You missed, asshole!
Keara didn’t even need to parry it. A single sidestep, and the large chunk of divine metal burrowed into the cobblestone. Keyaruga did like Ragnarok’s shape, he was fascinated by the intricate scabbard. But not their master.
Blade swung and slammed, trying to swat the nimble ‘girl’, while the latter attempted to kill the foe by a thousand cuts. Well, a few dozens. A dagger, no matter how sharp, couldn’t cut too deep, but it succeeded in draining Blade’s mana. A hip, a chest, an armpit — Keara’s slashes irritated the woman, made her careless. The healer chopped from the shoulder, dodged another swing, and bam! Blade got a pommel right in her cheek.
“My… My… MY FACE!!! MY BEAUTIFUL FACE!!! YOU SHITTY HOG!” She snarled, throwing a murderous tantrum of slashes. Blade cared little for her body, once disfigured and defiled. But the face, oh no. It was the only good thing she got… Wait, why does she suddenly looks so fam-?..
Oops, Keyaru barely avoided being halved down. What kind of fool spends a priceless bits of focus for an inner monologue in a fight? Golden light Ragnarok radiated, engulfed Blade’s whole body, her muscles began burling with augmented strength. Blade’s speed had doubled, shallow wounds healed instantly. Even in that state, she was far inferior to Kureha’s finesse, so Keara had a trump card or two in ‘her’ sleeve.
Keyaru dodged a diagonal slash, did a backflip, and threw a bunch of needles at Blade. One after the other, they either clashed with the wide weapon, or armor, or the hardened flesh. Only the seventh had succeeded, it stuck the blonde’s cheek. Necrosis followed immediately.
“A-A-A-A-A!!!” Still, the psycho wouldn’t be herself if she didn’t crack it with her own teeth, spewed the metal out, and caught Keara’s dagger with only two fingers. “Poison, kitten? Don’t you know I can’t be killed in this holy light?”
She bragged, holding her enemy’s weapon. Now was his chance. Forget the vengeance, forget the grudges, this monster had to die! The Hero of Healing stretched his arm to end this once and for all… And he got a pommel in his forehead.
“Eye for an eye, bitch!” Blade screamed. Her sweep wasn’t that masterful, but that made little difference when using it against a discombobulated opponent. Keara fell, and with that the Hero of Sword slammed her heel against ‘her’ chest. “WHO ARE YOU?!” She yelled, crushing the healer’s ribs, time and time again. He lost one diaphragm, his hardened bones cracked nonetheless, and even one spare heart ruptured. “He-heh! Oh, don’t worry! I won’t touch your face… Anymore, for a while. I like you, kitten. We’re gonna have a long, lo-o-o-ong interrogation, you and I!” The madwoman revealed, caressing her wetting vagina right through the pants. She enjoyed it… but not so much to forget about one last vicious stomp on Keara’s head. “Oh, I’m so clumsy!” Blade spoke, throwing the barely conscious body on her shoulder once again. The last thing the Hero of Healing felt before fainting for real was a hand, gripping his butt.
You will… pay… Fre… ia… Set…
…
Keyaruga was defeated. Maybe, if he used elemental magic, or Eve’s piercing light, the tide would’ve turned in his favor, but seeing that that didn’t happen, not even his altered anatomy rescued the avenger.
He was not alone, though. Not in his travels, his hardships… nor in his defeats. Not too far from where Keara’s attempt to take down Blade occurred, another battle was taking place. Freia, Setsuna, Eve Reese, all three faced an unrelenting adversary.
“Step… away!” The sorceress shouted, sending a wave of pebble toward the silent man. Every spell she used resonated with mind-rupturing pain, and yet she persisted. Persisted, where the others failed.
Setsuna, whose claws shattered against the Champion’s armor, lay beaten in a pile of rubble. Eve, quietly wailing, was pinned to the wall by five arrows. And Freia… Her nose was severely bleeding, her right eye was almost blinded. She stood her ground with all she got… And it wasn’t enough. Not even a single stone grazed his skin.
“I am afraid, it is impossible for me to do that, Your Highness.” The ember-eyed man spoke softly. He demolished the trio, stomped them into the ground. And what was worse, he didn’t even have to draw his kurzschwert, use anything from his rich arsenal of hidden tools of assassination. “I wonder, though, how did you end up in a company of that… lower filth.” Organ Trist commented on the fallen girls. He deemed both demi-humans and ‘demons’ to be of an inferior kind. Alas, his overwhelming power only fueled the man’s bias. “It must have been Keyaru’s influence, to be sure. Although, it’s extent amazes me.”
“Haa… Haa…” Freia heavily panted. She held onto the nearest wall, as well as her staff. Her eyes were closing, the girl wanted to sleep… But she could do no such thing. If she did, Hawkeye would murder her friends, and nobody will save her. “I don’t… remember you being so chatty, Organ…” The magician spoke, calling onto her healing magic. The inner force of mending clashed with ambient aura of hurting. In their collision, they made Freia’s sufferings even greater.
“Neither do I.” The final Champion of Jioral noted with amusement. “I shall let you know, though, that now I am directly disobeying princess Norn’s order. For some obnoxious reason she seems infatuated with that traitor.”
“Would you… ever… get to the point?” The princess growled. Her drumming heart was resonating with the trembling knees, but her mind was elsewhere. Freia could only hope she could stall Hawkeye just enough for Keyaru to finish with Blade. “Or are you just gonna gloat about openly betraying Jioral’s first princess, you fanatic?!” She said, getting closer to Setsuna. The she-wolf rested with her right arm broken. Bare bones stuck out of the elbow.
“You are not a princess anymore, Flare. You are a traitor to your kingdom! What are you doing here? What could the confidants for the treacherous, soiled Hero of Healing obtain in these accursed lands?”
“Ugh… Every time…” The girl crouched near the fallen huntress. All she could do was to fix her shattered arm in the crudest way possible. She made no sound, when Freia put her bones back inside, no pants when being poured a healing potion in the open wound. “Every time I meet a slave of my father, they… spew hate and bigotry… All of you think you’re somehow higher than others, that you can wipe out, murder, thousands just because you’re… too dumb to see beyond yourself. I know… I’ve been there… I know where it leads… Where it’d lead your daughter!”
“Marianna…” Organ Trist remained deaf to the princess’ accusations. Only one word made him react, and only for a moment. He pondered upon the numerous possibilities of what could truly be transpiring here. All of this expedition smelled rotten for him. Could they be off to assassinate Norn? No, quite improbable taking into account Keyaru’s warm greeting he shared with the princess. Sabotage? Wouldn’t a massive spell bombardment work better? Then…
“Is it about Bla-?..” Once again Hawkeye hit the spot, but his triumphant revelation was cut short, as the champion had to dodge a sword, imbued by the essence of lightning. There was no crackling, nor blinding light to reveal the backstab, but even so, through some precognitive power of the Trists' bloodline, or maybe just a hunch, Organ Trist managed to dodge it. “Who are you?” He asked strenuously. He now faced a mustache-wearing man in a baggy-looking clothes. No armor, no footwear… no weak spots. What’s worse, he carried a clay bottle of some murky booze in his left hand. Facing now an overwhelming foe, confident enough to just drink in his presence, Hawkeye had no choice but to unsheathe his own sword.
“How about you stop bullying children and brawl with someone your own size?” The surprise adversary said, looking at Freia. She recognized him immediately.
“Take… mik…” Alas, that was the limit to her vigor. The Hero of Magic was crumbling on the rubble beneath her. But instead of rocks, she was picked up by two gentle arms. The swordsman wasn’t alone in this.
“Takemikazuchi. And this beautiful golden-eyed lady, taking off arrows from that winged girl, is Panakea. Don’t worry, she won’t hurt you (not that you stand a chance against her anyway). Nice to meet you.” The god of swordsmanship sneered, taking a battle pose. “NOW SHOW ME A GOOD TIME, CHAMPION!!!”
…
When Keyaruga opened his eyes, he found himself in a luxurious room, in a massive four poster bed. His arms and legs were tied to the columns with thick ropes. Not nearly enough to fully immobilize a hero, but still…
“Oh, you’re already awake? How nice?” Blade spoke, sitting on the other side of the premise. Wearing nothing but her underwear, she enjoyed a cup of tea with a brash smile. Presumably, she drank it mixed with some liquor.
“Where are we? What have you done? Release me, or I will cry for help!” Keara yelled, faking ‘her’ struggling against the bonds.
“Go ahead! Nobody will come, no one will save you. Those nasty demons only care for their own furry hides! Only you and me, kitten!” The blonde scoffed, making her way toward Keara.
“No! Stay away, you jerk! How could a man like you be such trash?!” The healer yelled, trying not to look at the Hero of the Sword. After all, that way she would see him laugh.
“Don’t be mistaken, I’m actually a woman!” She said, hopping onto the white sheets. The monstrous fencer wore a female corset, but her crotch was covered by a pair of men’s underpants.
“You!.. How could you assault a fellow woman, you freak?!” The masquerading man snarled, artistically trying to crawl away from the madwoman.
“F-freak? Heh! I get that a lot! Even my precious princess Flare called me that! Princess… Oh, you’ll see me!.. Kitten, I will show you a new world!.. You won’t need a man anymore!..” Blade declared somewhat distantly. It’s like she was torn between two states of mind at the same time. “I love… I will love you! Love… so she would love me! Love…” There you have it. Blade’s sanity was quickly slipping away, as she began mumbling.
The woman’s slim arm took off Keara’s dress, she rubbed her face against the hero’s artificial breasts for at least a minute, not slowing down even for a second. For a long time, Blade was lost to reality. So much so she didn’t even notice something burning right next to her. What she did spot, though…
“Love… Flare… W-wait… What is that?.. E-e-eh? E-E-EH?! WHY?! WHY IS THERE A D… DI… A-A-A-A-A-A!!! NO, NOT A DICK! HOW THE FUCK DO YOU HAVE A DI-I-I-I-ICK?!!! A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A!!!” She sounded disgusted. A vile shriek of lunacy was soon to be cut down by even grosser gargle of vomiting. Blade threw up right on Keara’s leg, and that was the last straw! The Hero of Healing took out her last needle, pulled it right from his left forearm, where he had concealed it inside his muscle, and mercilessly stuck it right into the unprotected shoulder of the so called fencer. “A-A-A-A!!! KHA-A-A! KHA-KHA-A-A-A!!!” The screams of revulsion became instead the wailing of pain and powerlessness. “Poi… son… Ragnarok! I need… my Ragnarok!..”
“Of course, everyone needs a sword like that.” Keara sneered, casting a silent spell of healing on ‘her’ body. Blade attempted to crawl toward the table, where she left her weapon, but that proved to be an impossible task.
The parody of a fencer wasn’t so strong without her divine armament. Her muscles were underdeveloped, her technique left much, very much to be desired, and the neuroparalytic toxins, spreading across her bloodstream, wasn’t making things much easier.
“Haa, I’ve been waiting for this for a long, lo-o-o-ong time!” Keyaruga admitted, as his fingers grabbed his vis-à-vis’ neck. “Hey, Josie, Let’s fuck!” He said, slapping his penis against the woman’s butt.
“E-e… N…” And for the first time since he met her in the aborted timeline, Blade began crying.
Hey, being a woman is actually pretty good!
Thinking this, the transformed Hero of Healing walked Buranikka’s alleyways. That carefree wind, blowing under his skirt felt relieving and actually really novel. Not that Keyaruga awakened the taste for cross-dressing, though. It wasn’t his first time, after all. At some point he was a, what’s it called, a poor man’s substitute for a girl at Blade’s cruel mercy.
No, the pros lied elsewhere.
“He-he, thank you, boys!” Keara flirtatiously said, after two careless spearmen from Norn’s troops (apparently, too drunk to keep their mouths shut) told her some intel, specifically about when they would ‘liberate’ Buranikka. Four days. With Adrian Mirt’s denial of the princess’ ‘kind’ offer, the machine of war was set in motion. “Say, do you know where I can find that… Hero of the Sword?” The healer asked at the end.
“Pff, why would you need that jerk? Play with us, babe!” A soldier replied, trying to grab Keara. The latter, though, dodged that sign of affection in a swift pirouette, after which…
“Pretty please. I want to see him so, so much!” The hero tried his luck with another tinhead.
“Nah, you don’t.” The trooper said, but with Keara caressing his stubble with her index finger… “All right. Don’t say I didn’t warn you…”
And so, the man revealed the place. A bar at the center of Buranikka in dangerously close proximity to the city hall, Norn’s new headquarters, guarded by Hawkeye himself. Quite a challenge, actually.
“Thank you, big boy!” Keyaruga bid his farewells and turned away. It felt weird, to say the least. On one side, he enjoyed the obvious advantage over feeble men, but it also stirred his old wounds.
Either way, now that he knew where to look for one of his nemeses, the healer made his path toward her. Blade, Josephine, no matter the name, she was just as bruised by life as the lad himself. They were forged by the same anvils, but the woman prolonged the cycle of brutality. Keyaruga, no matter the influence of Flare, saw himself in that monster. And it aggravated him no less than the pain that that parody of a fencer caused him.
All the time he felt an unsettling pressure. As the camouflaged man stepped over the darkest parts of Buranikka, a weird tension kept pushing on him. It wasn’t fear, though, as the healer literally denied his adrenal glands from producing the germane hormones. Someone was following him. Was I spotted? Or did the girls defied my order? High time for…
“Phe-he-he! Ya, look wha’ ‘e’ve got ‘ere! Lucky us!” In the end, all the suspense was broken by some band of hobos.
“Ah, fuck ya, assprick! I saw her first!” Another prowler got better of his comrades and grabbed Keara from the back. Arms behind the back, mouth closed — competent moves, yet the hero felt really underwhelmed.
“Shut your trap, pad (fag), bitch’s common!” The last moron, presumably the leader of the three, slapped the grappler’s nape. The latter remained standing, he even kicked his fellow prowler with the elbow.
“I’m first, motherfuckers!” He snarled, pressing seemingly defenseless girl to himself. Keyaruga, for obvious reasons, felt no threat, but he was disgusted enough to not let this charade reach a point after which he would have to kill the stench. “A- AGH! WHATTA FUCK?!” The grappler yelled, as the hero executed a shoulder throw on him.
“You really don’t know how to choose your targets, friends.” Keara sneered, grabbing a perfume vial from within the bra… somehow. “I’m practically a demigod! How can you rape a demigod? What a great and intoxicating innocence! How could you be so naïve?” The healer scoffed, applying the aromatic to rid of the foul smell. “There’s still a chance of escape. Otherwise, no gods will save you from me.” The hero added, while making a shooing gesture with the left hand. He already had a pretty neat idea of how to utilize that (un)fortunate accident.
“Ha… PHA-HA-HA-HA-HA-HA!!! Get ‘er, men!” Alas, as he was now, Keyaruga lacked any sort of intimidation.
All three hobos rushed at Keara. She met them with nothing but bare fists… and the next second the grappler was down with his jaw severely dislocated, and blood leaking from the torn cheek.
“Well-well, one down and two remain. Please, don’t struggle. You stand no chance, but I’d like to keep my dress clean.”
…
It’s been a rough day, but everything was finally in their appropriate places. Keara was walking right inside Norn’s domain, three morons, relieved of the burden of their faltering humanity, were shackled in the dead maniac’s shack, and the hero’s companions were saved from being bait for a psychotic swordswoman. Everything was going pretty well.
“What a dazzling little hole we’ve got here.” Keyaruga flouted, giving a good look at the bar. Unnecessarily decorated, it reminded him of the slave market he had a pleasure of burning down. Prior to entering, though, the hero had to at least shake out the dress, as the premise’s atmosphere itself repelled the commoners. Keara was a daughter of a noble blood, a lady from the high society.
And so, the graceful persona entered the bar, triggering the chimes. She was greeted by a couple of silent guardsmen in full plate armor. It was not a pleasant place. Pro-human magnates gathered there, speaking of the upcoming salvation from their tribalistic competitors and the following reintegration into Jioral’s economy. The Pipe organ’s symphony reminded the healer of the hateful church of Faran, and at the counter sat his prey. Blade, the Hero of Sword, had been emptying cup after cup, trying to find some peace in the strong alcohol. Alas, it never worked. Although she never obtained the resistant to poisons in any way, her sword covered that weakness by constantly healing the blonde. Ah, yes. Drinking to forget, but you forgot to put away your chunk of healing iron. An imbecile is always an imbecile.
Nevertheless, he was glad to see the ever neurotic Blade for once. That meant he wouldn’t have to chase his tribute. A gift of love, which transcended time itself.
“Something soft, master.” Keara said to a grayed gentlemen behind the counter.
“As you wish.” The man replied with ominously cold voice. The healer could swear he saw long fangs among his teeth. Nice work, gardener. Seems like I won’t have to cleanse this place for you, after all.
“He-e-ey! First time here?” Blade finally turned her head toward Keara.
“I am. Are you a regular here?” The camouflaged man responded to the Hero of Sword. She looked positively awful. Greasy hair, bags under her eyes, the monstrous stench of liquor from her mouth. Usually, Blade’s tall stature commandeered respect or infatuation. Now? Now it reeked of despondence.
“I’m actually too. A newbie here, I mean.” The fencer spoke with a soft smile. Even in this sorry state she was quite charismatic, one must admit. At this moment the bartender presented Keara with her cocktail. A creamy drink of yellow and gold combined in a mix of berry sweetness and a barely noticeable alcoholic tang. “Wanna tell you, what’s good here?” Blade asked, snatching Keara’s drink to shamelessly gulp the remaining liquid. “Hey, m… man! My favorite!” The cross-dressing swordswoman demanded from an old gentleman. Only the gods know, how much she had to hold back not to spew something offensive. Either way, the vampire silently gave the hero two glasses with bluish drinks. And obviously, Blade drank it in one mindless gulp. “Kha-a-a! That’s what I needed! Drink, kitten! It’s all on me!”
That was a rare occasion. Usually, the Hero of Sword behaved like a well-mannered man, but at the moment she rather reminded Keyaruga of his dirty victims.
“S-sorry. I don’t think drinking on a stranger’s expense is a good thing.” The healer replied plaintively. Masterful acting was one of the skills his cruel mentor had taught him.
“Ho-o? I’m not a stranger! I’m Blade! The Hero of Sword and the pillar for all of Jioral!” The woman boastingly introduced herself. It sounded… awful, to say the least.
“Wow! I can’t believe it!” The masquerading hero exclaimed dramatically. “Blade himself!”
“Now you know me, kitten.” The blonde spoke, moving her cup toward Keara. “Come on, don’t be shy.”
“Al… Alright. For Jioral, then.”
“For Jioral!”
And so, they clanked their glasses, and Keara made a humble sip.
“Hey, what do you think of-…”
That was a starting point of a long, yet not that unpleasant conversation. The two spoke of politics, the future of Jioral and the humanity as a whole, a few topics about how ‘all demons must die’, rumors of the survived first princess’ part in Bloodbringer’s demise, but mostly about the modern fashion in clothes and cosmetics. The Hero of Sword didn’t seem that big of a dork, even if the healer noticed her nervous tremble from time to time.
And all that time Blade insisted on Keara having more and more drinks. A common technique to drag a woman to your bed, Keyaruga even used it on Kureha recently. But if he had left the Swordmaster in one piece, some of Blade’s victims weren’t so lucky. Memories of countless beatings and excruciating tortures wriggled in the back of the lad’s brain, but none had shaken his masterful smile.
The time was flowing fast, its merciless currents approached the ultimate culmination of this evening.
“I think I should go.” Keara said, looking at the window, at the blue night sky.
“Oh no, my kitten! It’s too late, you shouldn’t walk all alone. You should spend this night at my place. It’s safe there.” The fencer spoke, tapping the handle of her massive blade. Right… You’re the most dangerous bitch to be around, actually.
“I am sorry, but to follow a man in his house… Ugh!.. I need to use a restroom.” The healer said, pretending to be nauseous.
“Oh, I’m sorry! I must’ve gotten carried away.” Blade answered with a grain of salt and scorn in her voice. Even on the verge of a mental collapse, the Hero of the Sword hid her vile nature behind a mask. And now it shattered.
“Just… Excuse me!..” Keara exclaimed, holding onto her mouth. A dramatic retreat was yet another part of this long play.
Keyaru was a descendant of farmers, a native to his village. But no amount of nostalgia for his motherland could ever wash away his admiration to the urban lavatories for higher classes. A pump, where one could wash their hands, diligently washed seats, so unlike despicable cesspits, full-fledged doors, favoring one’s comfort and privacy. This time, though, the premise served its purpose as well as being a vantage point.
I see what you’re doing there, scum. Trying to trick me into the last drink, filled with benzodiazepines? Too bad, it’s not going to work on me.
When the healer left one of the stalls and approached one of the washbasins, he couldn’t help but stare at his reflection. This time, though, it wasn’t erotic admiration that he found there, but actually a depressed mug of vanity. This mask was getting heavier. And so too did keeping the smile.
“Haa… Well, time to get myself drugged, then.” Keara said with a carefully crafted feminine mirth. The healer wouldn’t have to bear it for much longer. He headed toward his fated vis-à-vis. But before that, he waved his slim hand to that single crimson fly, hanging on the window. “Wish me luck, Malcolm.”
Blade, the Hero of Sword, was anything but a mentally stable person. She was constantly shifting between apathy, fleeting lesbian romances, and episodes of uncontrollable anger. In all fairness, not all of her one-night partners left raped, beaten, or both.
The woman was literally worshipping Flare. Everyone else was either a temporal replacement of that idol, or… an outlet for all the traumas that scourged her soul.
The wisest way for a young maiden would be to leave immediately. But Keyaruga was anything but.
“My apologies, I think I drank too much.” The hero said, returning right to his seat, still warm, by the way. Blade was there, with three more emptied glasses. This time, though, Ragnarok rested on the counter. A perfect opportunity to murder her once and for all… but no, she had to suffer.
“Aww, I thought you left me, kitten.” The blonde said, resurfacing to the real world. “You… Ehm… You’re still going home?”
“Y-yes. Father would be mad, if I don’t show up.” The masquerading man said pitifully.
“Pff… Fa-a-ather…” Blade repeated with an excruciating sorrow in her voice. Funnily enough, this wasn’t really about this made-up parent being a man even. Keyaruga just stepped over her old wound. “Alright, alright… But first, one last drink from me. A small gift, for keeping me entertained.” The Hero of Sword said, regaining her frail composure.
“I don’t… think I can drink so much. Would you… have a sip first?” The healer replied, making a counter-move to the blonde’s ultimate trap. At that point, he literally laughed in his mind. What if she drinks it like an imbecile she is? What if her trickery fails into shambles? What if-?..
Well, at first, the fencer grabbed her sheathed sword and put it on her back. Clever, that way Ragnarok could heal her instantly. But that wasn’t all. Indeed, the woman did take the drink into her mouth…
“Uh?.. Nnhm!..” And then Blade grabbed Keara’s chin for a kiss. Then, she violently poured the poison right into the ‘maiden’s’ mouth. “Kha-kha! What’re you doing?!”
“Why? Just wanted to give you a taste of this delicious liquor, my kitten.” Blade scoffed in a victorious pose. Keyaru… felt nothing, really. He didn’t even need a fully-functioning liver in his body, since every toxin was just digested into mana in his body (other its functions w..ere manually delegated to other organs). But still, a play is a play. “Oh my, are you feeling tired? Maybe you did have a little too much! What a shame! I’m going to take you to my house, then!” The fencer yelled, as if trying to attract as much attention, as possible. Honestly, though, nobody really cared. And those who did, only knew about Blade’s most recent crime and either didn’t care or were too scared to do much of anything about it. But hey, what can you do to a hero, huh?
Either way, the blonde cross-dressing woman took fading Keara into her arms and walked away. Her home… Obviously, with the hero being there for but two days, there was no way she could just purchase some building. Take it away from someone else? Easily done.
The night grew cold. Unnerving winds wrapped the Hero of Healing in a freezing embrace. He was too used to his clothes, and the narrow dress felt too narrow, too feeble for any sort of protection. Not from Blade, that’s for sure.
Keyaruga frankly felt like he was missing his chance. Just one touch, and his enemy will fall helpless. How about cutting off the entire body but head and lungs? Experimenting with the bare minimum of human’s body? Wouldn’t that be fun?
“Ha-a!” These pleasant thoughts were cut short, with some old looking man emerging from the corner. He didn’t really look that weak. Nor his equipment. The vigilante braced for a lunge, he used a longsword with both hands, effectively nullifying the narrow alley’s limitation. Thrust after thrust, he pierced Blade’s right hand, her shoulder, the chest… Well, only the clothes. Golden light engulfed her body, invigorated the hero’s flesh. The blonde psycho was actually having fun, watching an objectively capable fighter failing to penetrate her armor or muscles.
Until she didn’t.
“Hey-he-e-ey! The fuck is this all about?” Blade quarried, catching the sword with her bare hand.
“You… You maimed my daughter, scum! And not only…” The vengeful father replied with a cold hatred, glancing toward Keara, who the former didn’t want to hurt. He tried to retake control over his weapon, but the fencer’s grip was too strong.
“Daughter? Ehm… Wait, which one? A-a-a… Lurishia? Marianna? Maybe Eris? Sorry, too many to count.” Blade admitted with all honesty. On some days she couldn’t even recall, where the blonde was, let alone remembering all of her one-night lovers.
“It’s Nina!” The avenger snarled, overflowing by the fiery wrath. In one moment, he let go of his blocked weapon…
“Nina? I don’t rem… A-A-A-A-AH, FUCK!!!” …just to drive a narrow stiletto into the hero’s uncovered armpit. Keyaru would applaud, if he wasn’t playing an incapacitated victim. Especially when the old man turned it and dragged along the bleeding flesh. “GHIA-A-A-A-A!!!” Hearing Blade scream like a pig was worth every second of tormenting pretense.
Alas for the sole avenger, his luck ended here and there. The yammering woman dropped the sword she was holding, but her blind rage was enough to backhand the enemy with the wounded arm and kick him away.
“FUCK! FUCK! FUCKING MAN-PI-I-IG!!!” Alas for the second one, the blonde yeeted Keara’s body right into the man. “A-A-A-A-A-a-a… Oh… I shouldn’t have done that.” And so, in but a few moments, Blade shifted from a sheer agony to an indifferent comment. Her grievous wound was mended with the power of the holy blade.
The Hero of Healing, though… Well, suffice to say, his state wasn’t all that good. Caught in the air, his feminine body was flying right onto the armed man. He didn’t lose his balance from the kick, but the punch to the face left him disoriented. If nothing was done, Keara would get impaled with the bloodied stiletto. Not something the healer couldn’t survive, but still.
The masquerading man swung in a flip and landed with his feet on the man’s shoulders.
“Ugh…” They collapsed on top of each other, but the hero instantly regained his posture and didn’t get stabbed.
“Hey, you. The potion, it worked?” Keara briefly asked, turning toward Blade, who… tried to stomp the abandoned sword in two. A foolish endeavor, as the metal strip just flexed all the damage.
“H-how do you-?..” Nina’s father wasn’t in the best shape. It seemed, the blonde managed to break a rib or two in his chest. Still, with Keara standing between him and the psychotic hero, he felt like he owed her an answer. “It… It worked. But she’s now crying all day.”
“I see… Didn’t I warn not to get involved? Get the hell out of here, before I killed you myself, moron!” He chased away the old man and took out a mythril dagger from below the hem of his dress. Fortunately, the vigilante thought fast. He fled. Just as he should’ve.
“Heh! You’ve surprised me, little one! I thought you passed out from my sleeping pills! Also, you’re good with your legs! I like you even more now!” And what of Blade? This one didn’t even flinch. As if the avenger didn’t even exist for her. The blonde was having genuine fun.
“…” What in the hell are you grinning about, bastard?!
“Playing mute, are we, kitten?” The Hero of Sword made her first step. And the second… “Hey, who are you? Don’t tell me! An assassin? You came for my life? Oh, I’m so proud of myself! No? Not an assassin? I’m better ask your…” In a single move, Blade drew her massive sword and made the first slam. “…BODY!!!”
You missed, asshole!
Keara didn’t even need to parry it. A single sidestep, and the large chunk of divine metal burrowed into the cobblestone. Keyaruga did like Ragnarok’s shape, he was fascinated by the intricate scabbard. But not their master.
Blade swung and slammed, trying to swat the nimble ‘girl’, while the latter attempted to kill the foe by a thousand cuts. Well, a few dozens. A dagger, no matter how sharp, couldn’t cut too deep, but it succeeded in draining Blade’s mana. A hip, a chest, an armpit — Keara’s slashes irritated the woman, made her careless. The healer chopped from the shoulder, dodged another swing, and bam! Blade got a pommel right in her cheek.
“My… My… MY FACE!!! MY BEAUTIFUL FACE!!! YOU SHITTY HOG!” She snarled, throwing a murderous tantrum of slashes. Blade cared little for her body, once disfigured and defiled. But the face, oh no. It was the only good thing she got… Wait, why does she suddenly looks so fam-?..
Oops, Keyaru barely avoided being halved down. What kind of fool spends a priceless bits of focus for an inner monologue in a fight? Golden light Ragnarok radiated, engulfed Blade’s whole body, her muscles began burling with augmented strength. Blade’s speed had doubled, shallow wounds healed instantly. Even in that state, she was far inferior to Kureha’s finesse, so Keara had a trump card or two in ‘her’ sleeve.
Keyaru dodged a diagonal slash, did a backflip, and threw a bunch of needles at Blade. One after the other, they either clashed with the wide weapon, or armor, or the hardened flesh. Only the seventh had succeeded, it stuck the blonde’s cheek. Necrosis followed immediately.
“A-A-A-A-A!!!” Still, the psycho wouldn’t be herself if she didn’t crack it with her own teeth, spewed the metal out, and caught Keara’s dagger with only two fingers. “Poison, kitten? Don’t you know I can’t be killed in this holy light?”
She bragged, holding her enemy’s weapon. Now was his chance. Forget the vengeance, forget the grudges, this monster had to die! The Hero of Healing stretched his arm to end this once and for all… And he got a pommel in his forehead.
“Eye for an eye, bitch!” Blade screamed. Her sweep wasn’t that masterful, but that made little difference when using it against a discombobulated opponent. Keara fell, and with that the Hero of Sword slammed her heel against ‘her’ chest. “WHO ARE YOU?!” She yelled, crushing the healer’s ribs, time and time again. He lost one diaphragm, his hardened bones cracked nonetheless, and even one spare heart ruptured. “He-heh! Oh, don’t worry! I won’t touch your face… Anymore, for a while. I like you, kitten. We’re gonna have a long, lo-o-o-ong interrogation, you and I!” The madwoman revealed, caressing her wetting vagina right through the pants. She enjoyed it… but not so much to forget about one last vicious stomp on Keara’s head. “Oh, I’m so clumsy!” Blade spoke, throwing the barely conscious body on her shoulder once again. The last thing the Hero of Healing felt before fainting for real was a hand, gripping his butt.
You will… pay… Fre… ia… Set…
…
Keyaruga was defeated. Maybe, if he used elemental magic, or Eve’s piercing light, the tide would’ve turned in his favor, but seeing that that didn’t happen, not even his altered anatomy rescued the avenger.
He was not alone, though. Not in his travels, his hardships… nor in his defeats. Not too far from where Keara’s attempt to take down Blade occurred, another battle was taking place. Freia, Setsuna, Eve Reese, all three faced an unrelenting adversary.
“Step… away!” The sorceress shouted, sending a wave of pebble toward the silent man. Every spell she used resonated with mind-rupturing pain, and yet she persisted. Persisted, where the others failed.
Setsuna, whose claws shattered against the Champion’s armor, lay beaten in a pile of rubble. Eve, quietly wailing, was pinned to the wall by five arrows. And Freia… Her nose was severely bleeding, her right eye was almost blinded. She stood her ground with all she got… And it wasn’t enough. Not even a single stone grazed his skin.
“I am afraid, it is impossible for me to do that, Your Highness.” The ember-eyed man spoke softly. He demolished the trio, stomped them into the ground. And what was worse, he didn’t even have to draw his kurzschwert, use anything from his rich arsenal of hidden tools of assassination. “I wonder, though, how did you end up in a company of that… lower filth.” Organ Trist commented on the fallen girls. He deemed both demi-humans and ‘demons’ to be of an inferior kind. Alas, his overwhelming power only fueled the man’s bias. “It must have been Keyaru’s influence, to be sure. Although, it’s extent amazes me.”
“Haa… Haa…” Freia heavily panted. She held onto the nearest wall, as well as her staff. Her eyes were closing, the girl wanted to sleep… But she could do no such thing. If she did, Hawkeye would murder her friends, and nobody will save her. “I don’t… remember you being so chatty, Organ…” The magician spoke, calling onto her healing magic. The inner force of mending clashed with ambient aura of hurting. In their collision, they made Freia’s sufferings even greater.
“Neither do I.” The final Champion of Jioral noted with amusement. “I shall let you know, though, that now I am directly disobeying princess Norn’s order. For some obnoxious reason she seems infatuated with that traitor.”
“Would you… ever… get to the point?” The princess growled. Her drumming heart was resonating with the trembling knees, but her mind was elsewhere. Freia could only hope she could stall Hawkeye just enough for Keyaru to finish with Blade. “Or are you just gonna gloat about openly betraying Jioral’s first princess, you fanatic?!” She said, getting closer to Setsuna. The she-wolf rested with her right arm broken. Bare bones stuck out of the elbow.
“You are not a princess anymore, Flare. You are a traitor to your kingdom! What are you doing here? What could the confidants for the treacherous, soiled Hero of Healing obtain in these accursed lands?”
“Ugh… Every time…” The girl crouched near the fallen huntress. All she could do was to fix her shattered arm in the crudest way possible. She made no sound, when Freia put her bones back inside, no pants when being poured a healing potion in the open wound. “Every time I meet a slave of my father, they… spew hate and bigotry… All of you think you’re somehow higher than others, that you can wipe out, murder, thousands just because you’re… too dumb to see beyond yourself. I know… I’ve been there… I know where it leads… Where it’d lead your daughter!”
“Marianna…” Organ Trist remained deaf to the princess’ accusations. Only one word made him react, and only for a moment. He pondered upon the numerous possibilities of what could truly be transpiring here. All of this expedition smelled rotten for him. Could they be off to assassinate Norn? No, quite improbable taking into account Keyaru’s warm greeting he shared with the princess. Sabotage? Wouldn’t a massive spell bombardment work better? Then…
“Is it about Bla-?..” Once again Hawkeye hit the spot, but his triumphant revelation was cut short, as the champion had to dodge a sword, imbued by the essence of lightning. There was no crackling, nor blinding light to reveal the backstab, but even so, through some precognitive power of the Trists' bloodline, or maybe just a hunch, Organ Trist managed to dodge it. “Who are you?” He asked strenuously. He now faced a mustache-wearing man in a baggy-looking clothes. No armor, no footwear… no weak spots. What’s worse, he carried a clay bottle of some murky booze in his left hand. Facing now an overwhelming foe, confident enough to just drink in his presence, Hawkeye had no choice but to unsheathe his own sword.
“How about you stop bullying children and brawl with someone your own size?” The surprise adversary said, looking at Freia. She recognized him immediately.
“Take… mik…” Alas, that was the limit to her vigor. The Hero of Magic was crumbling on the rubble beneath her. But instead of rocks, she was picked up by two gentle arms. The swordsman wasn’t alone in this.
“Takemikazuchi. And this beautiful golden-eyed lady, taking off arrows from that winged girl, is Panakea. Don’t worry, she won’t hurt you (not that you stand a chance against her anyway). Nice to meet you.” The god of swordsmanship sneered, taking a battle pose. “NOW SHOW ME A GOOD TIME, CHAMPION!!!”
…
When Keyaruga opened his eyes, he found himself in a luxurious room, in a massive four poster bed. His arms and legs were tied to the columns with thick ropes. Not nearly enough to fully immobilize a hero, but still…
“Oh, you’re already awake? How nice?” Blade spoke, sitting on the other side of the premise. Wearing nothing but her underwear, she enjoyed a cup of tea with a brash smile. Presumably, she drank it mixed with some liquor.
“Where are we? What have you done? Release me, or I will cry for help!” Keara yelled, faking ‘her’ struggling against the bonds.
“Go ahead! Nobody will come, no one will save you. Those nasty demons only care for their own furry hides! Only you and me, kitten!” The blonde scoffed, making her way toward Keara.
“No! Stay away, you jerk! How could a man like you be such trash?!” The healer yelled, trying not to look at the Hero of the Sword. After all, that way she would see him laugh.
“Don’t be mistaken, I’m actually a woman!” She said, hopping onto the white sheets. The monstrous fencer wore a female corset, but her crotch was covered by a pair of men’s underpants.
“You!.. How could you assault a fellow woman, you freak?!” The masquerading man snarled, artistically trying to crawl away from the madwoman.
“F-freak? Heh! I get that a lot! Even my precious princess Flare called me that! Princess… Oh, you’ll see me!.. Kitten, I will show you a new world!.. You won’t need a man anymore!..” Blade declared somewhat distantly. It’s like she was torn between two states of mind at the same time. “I love… I will love you! Love… so she would love me! Love…” There you have it. Blade’s sanity was quickly slipping away, as she began mumbling.
The woman’s slim arm took off Keara’s dress, she rubbed her face against the hero’s artificial breasts for at least a minute, not slowing down even for a second. For a long time, Blade was lost to reality. So much so she didn’t even notice something burning right next to her. What she did spot, though…
“Love… Flare… W-wait… What is that?.. E-e-eh? E-E-EH?! WHY?! WHY IS THERE A D… DI… A-A-A-A-A-A!!! NO, NOT A DICK! HOW THE FUCK DO YOU HAVE A DI-I-I-I-ICK?!!! A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A!!!” She sounded disgusted. A vile shriek of lunacy was soon to be cut down by even grosser gargle of vomiting. Blade threw up right on Keara’s leg, and that was the last straw! The Hero of Healing took out her last needle, pulled it right from his left forearm, where he had concealed it inside his muscle, and mercilessly stuck it right into the unprotected shoulder of the so called fencer. “A-A-A-A!!! KHA-A-A! KHA-KHA-A-A-A!!!” The screams of revulsion became instead the wailing of pain and powerlessness. “Poi… son… Ragnarok! I need… my Ragnarok!..”
“Of course, everyone needs a sword like that.” Keara sneered, casting a silent spell of healing on ‘her’ body. Blade attempted to crawl toward the table, where she left her weapon, but that proved to be an impossible task.
The parody of a fencer wasn’t so strong without her divine armament. Her muscles were underdeveloped, her technique left much, very much to be desired, and the neuroparalytic toxins, spreading across her bloodstream, wasn’t making things much easier.
“Haa, I’ve been waiting for this for a long, lo-o-o-ong time!” Keyaruga admitted, as his fingers grabbed his vis-à-vis’ neck. “Hey, Josie, Let’s fuck!” He said, slapping his penis against the woman’s butt.
“E-e… N…” And for the first time since he met her in the aborted timeline, Blade began crying.
