Re:Beginning: A Job-Filled Reincarnation
Crimster
Chapter 10: Re:Beginning: A Job-Filled Reincarnation | Chapter Ten: Buena Village's Resident Knight Paul Greyrat and When the Scheming God Strikes
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Re:Beginning: A Job-Filled Reincarnation | Chapter Ten: Buena Village's Resident Knight Paul Greyrat and When the Scheming God Strikes
When Paul arrived in the area Laws had told him about, the first thing that struck the knight was the crowd he saw. Buena wasn't that big, so he could tell at first glance that most villagers were there, which meant that this area was very much the exact place he was supposed to be. The villagers lined up on the path Paul had just ridden on that morning. "Okay, everyone, clear a path!" With zero complaints, a way through the entourage of people was formed, and past them laid the body of a man Paul knew. Blood had pooled beneath him and was soaked into the snow, coloring it red. He was face down. His sword was still in its sheath. It wasn't Paul's first time seeing a body, and it wouldn't be his last time either, but when it was someone he knew—when it was a kind man like Smith…
It was a sad occasion, but he had a job to do. He wouldn't let his emotions get in the way. "Did anyone see anything suspicious?!" No one spoke. "Anyone that doesn't live here or was acting off?" Still, no one dared to answer. He couldn't expect much from them. Laws had already run off to find Roxy and little Sylphie, so he couldn't rely on him now. It was up to Paul to find something.
However, it would make his job a hell of a lot easier if someone had any information. "Who found him? Was there any commotion whatsoever?"
"There wasn't anything like a commotion, Lord Paul." Mrs. Peters was the person to speak up. "My Samantha was the one who found him—I didn't know what happened until she came home crying." Well, that was certainly something to go off of.
No commotion. So I can safely rule out a Water God practitioner, then. They're not the kind to attack first. That leaves Sword God or North God. Were there any tracks around the area? A quick survey around him, and he could tell right away that there was no plausible way he could tell apart the tracks that littered the ground at this point. Well, that's a dead end. Paul crouched beside Smith's body. There were no signs of struggle from what he could see. If Smith wasn't in a puddle of his own blood, it would look like he fell over and croaked for no reason, but that wasn't the case. No, there was only one distinct wound on his body.
A singular stab wound in his torso.
Right through the heart…? Paul turned Smith over; his eyes were glazed over, but his face was calm. He probably didn't even know what happened. This is no Sword God swordsman. The wound is too clean—precise. The person who did this is no honorable fighter. Nah, this is the work of an assassin—a North God swordsman. Not just any random swordsman, either. Whoever did this was good. They weren't worried about leaving tracks behind because they knew I was already gone, and no one else would've cared enough to leave the crime scene unperturbed. They knew the villagers would panic because of the death… Shit, this isn't good. Paul stood up from the body. "Everyone get back in your houses for the time being! Whoever did this targeted Smith because he was alone! Make sure to stick together!" The knight waved his hand like a commander, but his troops seemed unwilling to move.
Some of them fidgeted, others were displeased, but what they thought of the situation mattered little. It took a while, but Paul managed to get everyone to their houses. No one was left behind or alone. Paul couldn't afford to be careless again. "Paul!" It wasn't hard to figure out who called his name, considering everyone in the village was now safely nestled in their houses.
Laws was running towards him. "Laws?! What're you doing here?! Shouldn't you be with your family?!" Paul was a little surprised when the self-proclaimed family man Laws ran up to him while the village was in a fiasco like this. He'd half expected him to return to his house with his wife and daughter.
"I already brought Lia to your house!" Okay, then Paul could imagine where little Sylphie is at. "I had Roxy escort Phi back to your home, too, so she's safe." Laws stopped a short distance infront of the man, almost as if he was waiting for orders.
"That's good to hear." Paul saw the elf's eyes dart to the ground behind him. Paul heaved a sigh as he continued. "From what I've deduced, Mister Smith was most likely attacked by a North God swordsman." Paul's eyes shifted to Smith's body as well. "A good one at that…" Paul could tell Laws was affected by this death more than he let on. Paul knew Laws was relatively close with the man. "Can't tell you why he was targeted. Right now, I think it's because he was alone… If only I just walked him home or something." Paul grimaced at himself.
"None of this is your fault, Paul! This is—because he was doing his rounds of the village… this happened because he was just trying to help us?" Laws was downtrodden, that Paul could tell. He probably blamed himself in some capacity, even though none of the blame lay with him. "How's his family? How are Carmilla and James doing?"
"Haven't seen them today—I'm sure they know already. They're probably in their house…" Paul didn't add the fact that they were most likely grieving. That was a given. "Whoever did this is good enough to pull off an assassination in plain daylight and not make any commotion. We've got to report to Roa and fast." Paul motioned with his hand for Laws to follow as he started walking.
Paul could hear him stumble slightly as he followed behind him. "Paul, who do you think did it? Like—if you got into a fight, you'd be able to beat them, right?"
"If they could slip under my nose like they did, I'd expect nothing less than a North Saint." Laws' breath hitched at his statement. "Anyways, we've really gotta hurry. We'll get everything sorted out back at the house, then leave." Laws nodded when Paul looked back at the man. Laws had never been in a state of affairs like this. As a veteran adventurer, it was only fitting that Paul took the lead in this situation. As Buena's only knight, it was his duty to the villagers to protect this village.
Still, I wonder what Rudy would do in this situation—now, who am I kidding…? He's just a kid.
When they arrived home, Paul was welcomed with the expected sight. Lilia was off in a corner, and Cecilia talked to Zenith while they sat at the table. They both looked to have worried faces. From what the knight could see, Roxy, Sylphiette, and Rudy sat close together as Roxy taught Sylphiette more math. At least, that's what Paul thought they were doing. When the door opened, everyone looked toward the two men. Laws' daughter, who'd most likely been filled in, quickly ran to her father. While Rudeus sat on a chair, seemingly uninterested in the whole event.
"Father, is everything alright now?" Laws gave a bitter smile in response.
"Not yet, Phi. Paul and I will figure things out and take care of it." She gave a pout from the nonanswer.
"Honey, how is it out there?" Zenith had moved toward her husband.
"Not as bad as it could be. That's for sure." Ideally, you didn't want the current events by any stretch of the imagination, but it wasn't a lie when Paul said it could be worse. "Laws and I will be heading out to Roa. This doesn't seem like something I can handle all by myself, so I'll be back with reinforcements."
A chair was scrapped against the floor as it moved. "Dad, do you really think that's a smart decision?" It was Rudeus.
"What do you mean smart decision? There's someone out there killing people, Rudy." This was odd. Rudeus wasn't one to speak up—especially to his father. Especially nowadays. Paul would've expected something like a quip from him, but this?
"You'd be leaving the village undefended, Father—if there really is a North Saint running amock, wouldn't it be better for you to just guide Mister Laws out of Buena?" Paul was taken aback by the mention of the swordsman.
I never mentioned the guy's rank. Did he just figure they'd have to be skilled if someone could do something like this?
Paul didn't answer him. He was right, even if he didn't want to admit it. Why hadn't he thought of something so simple? Was Smith's death getting to him more than he thought? "Just think about it—a random villager is suddenly killed for seemingly no reason by someone of notable skill. The question is, why? What's their motive?" Rudeus was dancing around the topic.
He was beginning to get on Paul's nerves. He could play detective all he wanted, but this issue had to be solved. "What are you getting at, Rudy?"
"I'm trying to say they obviously want you out of the village." What, he thinks they're trying to lure him out? "You're the village's defense at the end of the day. Sure, Master is a water saint-tier magician and all, but that means little against a skilled swordsman, especially one as tricky as a North God practitioner. You leaving the village would be the worst-case scenario for all of us."
"So what do you want me to do? Just lead Laws out of the village and let him leave alone—undefended?" Sure, the man has connections in Roa from his trade. Paul's cousin Phillip has even met him at one point, but the roads between Buena and Roa aren't always safe. Well, not like Rudy would know. He's never even left the village.
"You know what, I think he's onto something." Laws thoughtfully rubbed his chin.
"Not you too, Laws!" Paul's son was a sweet talker, but wasn't Paul more justified in his actions? He'd protect him as he left, and they'd ensure reinforcements. Wasn't that the right way?
"I think Rudy's judgment is fairly sound, Mister Paul." The blue-haired girl was the one to stand up for him this time. "If this assassin is a saint, I couldn't do much against them in a fight. Your leaving would be like letting the wolf dine on a herd at leisure. God knows where the man in question is even hiding right now." Now Roxy was taking his side as well. It made sense. Even though he had graduated, he still had a deep connection to the woman.
Next, he'd expect even his wife to— "I think you should follow their advice, dear." Does Paul have zero like-minded individuals here? Well, I guess that's a good thing. You wouldn't want everyone thinking with their dicks half the time.
There was zero use in arguing. The sun would be setting soon, and it would be best if they used the darkness of night as cover for their exit. "Haah—fine." All Paul could do was just sigh. "That good enough for you to stop complaining, Rudy?" The boy gave his father a slight smile.
"It's good enough for me, Father."
Why do I keep losing arguments with a child?
It was dark—very dark. If he didn't hear Caravaggio crunching the snow beneath his hoves, Paul wouldn't even know Laws was beside him. They left during the night to cover their—Laws' exit. It started snowing before they left, so the clouds were thick in the sky. The only time Paul could see was when they parted briefly. "How long do ya think, Laws?" Paul was the one to ask the question because the elf knew this path better than he did.
"Another couple or so. We're in the wooded area now, nearing the clearing." He kept his talking brief and quiet. They shouldn't be that loud in a situation like this. Laws is a hunter, so he knows how to be quiet. Now, it just so happened that they were the prey.
"Okay. Remember to head to Roa as fast as possible when you get out. No stopping under any circumstance. You do that, and even I can promise you that you will return to a village without dead men, women, or children." Even when Paul whispered, his voice was still quite loud.
"Yeah, yeah. I trust you, Paul. It's not like I could leave you all alone back here." The clouds parted, and the moon shone through the cracks, illuminating the immediate area. "I'll try to make it back as quick as I can—" Paul saw it—black shades moving in the darkness, only briefly visible by the moon's light.
"Laws! Get down!" A black figure moved from the side of the road. Whoever it was, they were moving fast and coming right towards them.
"What's the matter, Paul—" Laws had fear in his eyes from Paul's sudden shouting, but the knight couldn't pay his friend any mind. Paul couldn't even react in time before the figure, which he was sure was one person, split into two. In a spur of the moment, Paul pulled Laws off Caravaggio, but he was a moment too late.
"Aghh!" A blade's gleam passed them, and Paul saw an arm fly. The two figures darted toward him, and their swords rushed toward Paul's neck. Luckily for him, he had a fast draw.
Metal clashed against metal, and sparks flew. Paul could tell immediately that the strength of one individual wasn't too much for him to handle. Still, both of them at once had enough power to send him flying backward, even with the added weight of carrying Laws in his off-hand. Paul couldn't even see what they looked like during that brief kiss with death. All he could make out from the brief interaction and the light from the sparks was their black armor and—rabbit ears? Mildetts? Who the hell are these guys?! Paul landed a distance away from where they initially were.
Caravaggio neighed and sprinted off after the sound of the blades hitting each other rang out. "P-Paul? M-my a-arm is!" Laws' breath hitched as he started to hyperventilate. He gripped where his lost appendage once was. His eyes were wide in fear and panic as the only thing he was met with was a stump and a profusely bleeding hole. Needless to say, he didn't have long before he bled out. This meant Paul had no time to be dilly-dallying with these two any longer than he had to.
"Try to get it together, Laws—" Before Paul could finish speaking, Laws went slack in his arm and made zero sound after the fact. He glanced at where the wound was and his now unconscious state. Fuck! He passed out from shock… There wasn't anywhere Paul could run, and there was no way he could just leave Laws out to hang. There was no other choice but to fight.
"We take it you're Sir Paul?" The two of them spoke in unison with each other. Without looking away from the two, Paul tore a part of Laws' shirt off and tied it in a hastily done tourniquet.
"Yeah, what of it?! You guys have some nerve coming out of nowhere like that!" He needed to gauge them quickly and finish this soon if Laws had any hope of living.
They nodded their heads in sync as they each held up their blades. "We're one of the Three Swords of the North God! We are the North King Nuckelgard, the 'Twin Swords', and we are here for your life!"
North King?! Those were words that Paul could understand. Those two words were significant. Paul had heard about the Three Swords a little in the passing years, but to come face to face with one? I haven't heard of one of them being a unit of two, though. That hardly mattered right now.
"Paul Greyrat advanced in all three sword styles—I'll cut the formalities there! Looks like I'll be killing you two today!" Paul knew in a head-on fight, he was going to lose. Hell, he was probably going to wind up dead here anyway. He couldn't take on a North King by himself as he is now, but that doesn't mean he could back out, either. There was a man who trusted him, and he had to protect him. Paul had a family he needed to keep safe.
He had to be the first to act.
He rushed forward. Neither of the men moved, but Paul could tell they were watching him. Paul wasn't fast enough for Nuckelgard to be unable to keep up with his movements. If only he could use the 'Longsword of Light' like Ghislaine. He couldn't, however, so he had to make do with his 'Longsword of Silence' for this fight.
He could win if he could land one solid hit on either of them.
He put weight onto his leading foot and dashed forward. His sword went flying as he slashed horizontally. All that followed was complete and utter silence as it soared through the air. His sword was met with resistance. However, instead of cutting one of the Mildett's in half, the one Paul had intended to cut in two used both hands to block his blade with his while the other slipped past the knight. The next moment, Paul felt a searing pain in his right calf. In a frenzy, Paul flailed, and they both darted away.
This isn't good. They're used to fighting together—I can't dive in like that. I have to take this slower. He watched the two disappear along with the light as the clouds covered the moon. Paul quickly took a Water God stance. They were using the color of their armor to their advantage. He should've expected nothing less from a North God practitioner.
Paul heard movement. It was quick. Then a twig snapped infront of him, and snow crunched behind him. Both directions?! Shit, they're going for a pincer! The clouds parted briefly, and he could see them both for a split second. They were both closing in rapidly. Their swords were brandished, and they were ready to split him in two in a moment, but they couldn't even compare to Ghislaine's speed when she was serious. Sure, they were quick on their feet, but Paul could manage this much, at least. With a simple 'Flow' , he parried the man infront of him, and with the technique's motion, he moved beside him, and as one of Nuckel's—or Gard's—hands were flung into the air. Slash the bastard, Paul! He stomped down and put all the strength in his arms as his sword slashed downwards.
Yet again, another strike stopped his blade, throwing Paul's sword to the side—missing his target entirely. A dull pain ran up his leg as he stumbled to the ground. The bastard behind me didn't go for a blow? It all happened in a split moment. The swordsman behind him sidestepped to stay in his blind spot, struck Paul's sword with his, and kicked his wound. A moment later, a searing pain roared across Paul's back. The distinct feeling was one he knew too well. He could tell from the pain alone that a large gouge had been made along the length of his back. He was careless. He was taking this too fast.
The blade he had parried was coming back down by this point. Ready to cut the knight in two. You have to move, Paul! You haven't trained all these to go out like this—you gotta move! He braced and ducked underneath the blade the instant it would've made contact. Both of the assassins were shocked. At that moment, Paul used that brief window to his advantage as he threw his sword at the one infront of him, planting his hands on the ground and pushing off it with all the strength his arms had to offer. When he bounded off the snow-covered earth, he felt the satisfying collision of his left foot with a solid surface. Then he heard a yelp, and with a glance, he saw a rather nasty wound in the eye of the man infront of him, Paul's sword quickly being thrown away by the now injured man. With a motion of his legs, he kicked off the other and landed a little ways away.
The fact they were pissed was clear as day. I managed to partially blind one, but all I gave the other one was a relatively strong kick. This sucks… Whenever I go for a strike, the other just backs them up! It didn't help the fact that it was a two-on-one. Paul could tell quickly that the two weren't anything too special, but together, they were a whole other mess. Can I even get out of this? Caravaggio ran off at the beginning of the engagement, and now Paul just threw the only weapon he had on himself. Wait, Laws has a sword on him! If I can just—
The world shifted in his head when he tried moving. Was he falling over? Did he lose too much blood? No, there was no way. He had only been cut twice, and while bad, sure, it wasn't nearly enough to do him in. Did these bastards poison their swords, then? Yeah, that had to be it. Damn, I hate North God swordsman... His vision was getting darker as he fell. I'm sorry that I'm a shitty husband, Zenith. I'm sorry about what I did to you, Lilia.
He saw the two men conversing with each other momentarily before they started to walk closer. "I'm sorry I couldn't help you, Rudy… I'm sorry that your father is such a shitty dad." His consciousness ceased, and blackness encroached upon his mind.
Paul guessed dying to a North King wasn't the worst way to go.
This job was proving to be exceptionally easy.
Go to Buena Village, a place in the sticks of the Fittoa Region, and murder a family and their magical tutor. It was a job far below their pay grade, but they wouldn't complain. If anything, this just meant easy money for the pair. So when they arrived, they caused a little bit of a stir in the village by killing a man. He didn't even know what happened, but the result of it was precisely what Nuckelgard wanted.
Paul Greyrat was leaving the village and was separating himself from the mage. Now, it was just a matter of killing the man and returning to finish the rest of the family. To be fair, Nuckelgard had expected about as much, but they thought the knight would at least be some kind of a challenge. His fighting was tricky and robust, but that was about it. They had the advantage—an advantage they had planned to use the entire time. Wearing black armor, they attacked the knight and his friend at night. From there, the whole operation went without a hitch.
The elf was bleeding to death, and the knight passed out. Apparently, they gave the man too much credit. They hadn't even poisoned their swords, yet he passed out readily after only two wounds. They figured he must've been scared of blood or something.
"Fuck, that hurt." Gard held his hand to the eye that had been stabbed.
"We'll get you healed later, so stop bein' a pussy." Nuckel offered little compassion for his brother. They had been through this song and dance before, so this was nothing new. You couldn't expect to go into a fight with a swordsman of notable skill and expect to get away totally unscathed.
"Still, why does a swordsman like him just pass out like that?" They were slowly walking over to the unconscious man to finish the job.
"The hell should I know? Maybe he just got scared midway through or something—" Nuckel stopped speaking as a chill went down his spine.
They both readied into their stances momentarily as they heard the approaching footsteps. The brothers weren't ones to get snuck up on, but even they felt that something was wrong in the air. So, to them, something was very wrong.
"I think you've done enough, Father." A boy's voice called out, and a moment later, a child walked out of the tree line as the two black armored rabbit-eared swordsmen looked at him.
The two glanced at each other in unease. Didn't this kid know that there was an assassination taking place here? "Who the hell are ya, kid?!" Gard spoke up for the two. It didn't matter what his answer was. He was going to be dead in a moment anyway.
"Oh, sorry, where are my manners? I'm Rudeus Greyrat. A pleasure to meet you," The boy gave a stupid bow as he announced his name.
The two brothers looked at each other and thought one thing. Awfully convenient, ain't it? They didn't even hesitate in their following action. "Haah, well, a pleasure to meet you, boy," Nuckel spoke, and in the instance he did, Gard threw his sword at the boy with an almost blinding speed.
Their mouths spread into broad grins as they thought about the easy paycheck they would get after this…
"Hate to tell ya—" The boy didn't look disturbed at the sword spiraling toward him. Something about this kid wasn't right to Nuckelgard, but he wasn't moving. He'd die as soon as that sword cleaved him in two. They knew that. No matter what he did, nothing was going to save him now.
But the splatter of blood and the death of a young boy never came.
As soon as the sword would surely gouge into his tiny body, it harmlessly bounced off the air a few inches infront of him. Almost as if the sword couldn't reach him. Nuckelgard watched the boy smirk in amusement. "It looks like you're gonna need a sharper sword." A moment later, panic spread through Gard. He knew how hard he had thrown that sword, and he'd seen what it could do. The boy seemingly deflected a blade capable of going through a boulder as if it were nothing. Nuckel noticed his brother's panic and acted before anything else could happen, but neither was fast enough—Rudeus moved before either of them.
The boy raised his hand in a relaxed manner. "Anyways… 'Crush' . " His hand lowered, and the two men sank to their knees as an invisible weight pressured their bodies down to the ground.
"What the fuck?!" Gard spoke as he strained against the weight pulling him down. His brother Nuckel fared no better as his entire body lay flat. Fear ripped through the swordsmen, but Gard still had a foot planted firmly to the ground. If he used his aura, he could—
"Language man… You're infront of a kid, y'know." Nuckel watched as the child infront of them lowered his hand even further, and almost like puppets on strings, they followed. Even more weight was applied to their bodies. Nuckel could feel the air in his lungs leave him as it happened, as his entire body groaned against the pressure.
Gard hadn't assumed anything worse would happen, but when it did, his leg, which had once been firmly rooted to the ground, snapped with a disgusting sound as it bent in a way no limb should.
Nuckel had to listen as his brother screamed in absolute agony as the bone only further bent from the weight applied to it.
Nuckelgard watched as the boy left them and went over to the elf. "What the hell are you?!" His scream went unanswered as he watched the child— demon proceed to mutter words under his breath. Nuckelgard knew little of the magical arts besides the fact they could heal wounds and were awfully useful. They did know of one thing, however. Only king-ranked spells and above can regrow a limb from nothing.
So you can imagine their surprise—or rather horror when the elf's severed arm, which had only been a couple of yards away, was simply discarded from thought as the boy regrew the man's arm from nothing and healed him entirely.
A feeling rampaged through the two of them. A sense of dread and hopelessness enveloped them as they continued to be crushed under the impossible weight on top of them. Bones broke like twigs, organs ruptured from the weight, and the men even pissed themselves after they lost control of their bladder. They could do absolutely nothing.
"People tend to call me a lot of things. Magic God. Mage King. Quagmire, whatever you lot like." The smile on his face unnerved both men as they lay infront of the child. All the attempted struggle became useless as they had already exhausted themselves. Their aura was useless. They were sitting ducks waiting to be killed.
"How the hell are you doing this?!" Gard screamed out in a pained and exasperated voice. The speaking only resulted in him having to force himself to take deep breaths.
"Haven't you realized already, or are the both of you only semi-intelligent when you put your brains together as well?" Gard felt anger rise up as he spit infront of himself. A sign of disrespect. If they were going to die here, the least they could do was curse the demon of a child infront of them.
However, the boy didn't care as he moved toward them and pulled Gard's head up to face him. "I'll indulge you, I guess—you're being crushed by gravity magic right now. If you're wondering why I can hold it without a care, you can blame that on my mana capacity… The answer is even simpler if you wonder what I used to block your blade earlier." Rudeus let go of his head, and it slammed back down into the ground, the force of gravity resuming. His nose broke on impact, leaving the man writhing in pain again. "I just wrapped some wind magic around my body." The boy didn't seem to care anymore, but even then, he held an air that let Nuckelgard know they weren't leaving here alive.
"Now, what should I do with you two anyway? I mean, I don't like killing people." The boy's face held a seeming remorse as the two looked up at him.
"If you kill us, it'll only mean more trouble for you, kid. Our employer ain't one to mess with!" Nuckel spoke in a frantic tone. They didn't want to die here. It was supposed to be a simple job. They were never warned of this.
"I already know that you're employed by Darius… Is there anything interesting you'd like to inform me about?" They immediately stomped out any hope they had of escape. "Still, I don't want to kill you guys."
Another glimmer of hope presented itself to Nuckelgard. "But I have no choice." Without even so much as an exaggerated movement, Gard's head fell off his shoulders. It rolled for a while, and Nuckel saw it all happen.
His brother was dead. He was next. The only thing left in Nuckel's heart was hatred for the thing infront of him. A being entirely out of reason and one that shouldn't exist. His brother and he never stood a chance. They were going to die as soon as they stepped foot into this village, and that was because of the demon wearing a child's skin infront of him.
"If you see the Man-God on your way out, tell him one thing for me—he should leave the Greyrat family well enough alone." His tone was cold and uncaring. His eyes reflected not an optimistic youth but instead a seasoned veteran.
"You're a demon spawn." Nuckel's words seethed with venom, but they didn't matter.
His head, too, fell.
Paul woke and found himself next to a warm place. He was alive—as idiotic as that sounds, it was still a relief. He was breathing and still warm, which meant he was alive. Even if he got thrashed thoroughly by that North King, he was left alive and—wait… Why was he alive? Why was he not in pain?
He looked down at his calf, which undoubtedly had a hole stabbed through it during the fight. Instead of finding a gaping wound that would hurt like hell, he found smooth skin. The hole in his pant leg was still there, but there were no noticeable injuries. The wound's blood was also there, but no damage was present. Paul stretched to feel his back, and lo and behold, that wound was also gone. Had Roxy heard the commotion and healed me before I bled out? No, she wouldn't leave me out here. She would've dragged me back to the house… Paul was forgetting something important. Where's Laws?! He jumped up. Luckily, no pain followed from his quick movement. Whoever healed him was good. Even he could tell that.
Finding the half-elf was no challenging feat, however. Paul was laid down beside the path. Laws was also conveniently laid down on the other side of the fire he had been next to. Paul was floored when he saw the arm reduced to a stump, now comfortably fitted back to its original state. Paul walked over to him and shook him. Laws looked pale, probably from the blood loss.
Paul didn't know how long they were out in this snow before they were found, but after a glimpse of the moon, Paul deduced it couldn't have been long after he passed out. Laws stirred, his eyes opened, and he jutted abruptly as he shouted. "Paul?! What the hell—" He quickly raced his hand where his arm was. His eyes went wide. He was probably happy that it was still there—or, well, back in this case. "What…?" He looked to Paul with utter befuddlement. His voice sounded exasperated and tired. "What happened?"
"That's what I'm asking myself, bud." Paul patted his shoulder. He doubted it would comfort him any. "The guys that attacked us told me they were Nuckelgard. They were North Kings, probably because they were a single unit. I bet they were North Saints or something by themselves, but well—yeah." He drifted off as he thought. Why are we still alive?
"Well, where did they—" His nose twitched as he abruptly paused. "Do you smell that?" He was a hunter, and from what Paul knew, he had a good nose, but that still didn't mean the knight knew what he was talking about.
"What's the deal, Laws? You're acting weird—"
"Over there, I smell blood—a lot of it." The man was eerily still as he pointed back onto the path.
"Laws, me and you are covered in blood right now. I'm pretty sure you're just acting up because of the shock or something—" Paul spoke but followed his finger nonetheless, and wouldn't you believe it. On the path, there were two bodies. The people in question were stout but obviously had bodies of swordsmen. Specifically, they were the people Paul had recently engaged in a life-or-death battle with. However, now they lay in the middle of the road, seemingly crushed.
It was bizarre. When Paul went under, they were both fine, but now they're more than dead. They were crushed and flattened. It wasn't even the worst part. Their heads were gone. Blood was still pooling from their bodies, so Paul knew this hadn't happened that long ago. He had seen his fair share of executions when he was a kid. They weren't the rarest thing to see in Ars, but this took it to the next level.
"Paul, was this…?"
"No, it wasn't me—I lost consciousness during our fight." There wasn't a sensible conclusion to what happened here. Paul fought the men and couldn't even imagine anyone in the area coming close to being capable of doing this. Their bodies were practically caved in. They were sunk into the ground beneath them, and even from where they were standing, he could tell a sizable amount of their bones seemed broken. Then there was their heads—lack of heads. The wound was clean. It was done by a blade, but from Paul's perspective, it must've been one hell of a sword that could make a cut that clean. It just didn't add up for some reason to the knight.
To give the broad strokes of the scenario, none of it made any sense. Paul and Laws were alive, though, and those men were more certainly the same men that killed Mister Smith. So the killer Paul had been worried about was now dead. Even with that becoming clear, it still felt like they weren't safe if a North King could be so thoroughly violated as these two had been.
"Let's just go back, Laws." Paul was tired. He wanted to see his wife. They could even get down to business once he got back. Elinalise always said it was good to have sex after being put through a near-death experience. Huh, wonder how that harlot's doing nowadays? No doubt she's still praying on unsuspecting men along the countryside. He hadn't thought about the woman in a while or any of my old party members for years, for that matter. I hope they're all doing well… Did seeing the light flash before my eyes make me turn over a new leaf or something?
"Sure—I could use a good night's sleep after today." Laws seemed drained. He did lose a lot of blood.
"Ah, shit! I almost forgot about Caravaggio!" Paul shouted out and was about to go running when his friend placed a hand on his friend's shoulder.
"Paul—he's right there." He motioned to a nearby tree. The horse was hitched to it, not even so much as making a sound.
A moment of silence passed between the two. Then they both laughed. "Thank god. What would I ever do if I lost you—Laws—" The atmosphere was ruined when Paul saw something beside his horse that surprised him. Seeing it wasn't even that shocking, but it nonetheless confused him.
"What is it now, Paul?" He sounded a little irate, probably because Paul was taking up more travel time by talking.
"Is that your arm?" He pointed for Laws to look.
"What do you mean? It's on my body—it couldn't be—" He also saw it. It had all but frozen, and at this point, it had stopped bleeding. Its appearance was something that shocked both of them. "Okay, should we be scared now?" That line would usually be seen as playful, but with everything they went through, Paul could only see it as the man pointing out the truth.
Paul was able to put some information together now. For some unknown reason, a king-tier healing mage wandered through these woods in the middle of the night without any light to go by and decided to heal two random strangers. At the same time, an unknown assailant beat the ever-living shit out of a North King nearby.
Nothing about this scenario was normal or understandable. There was no way something so specific could've happened. No way in hell.
"Let's just leave—I don't wanna think about it anymore." Laws didn't respond to Paul's words; he just gave the man a curt nod. They both mounted Caravaggio and rode out of the woods after that. Their battered clothes were the only testament to what they had been through from that night.
"Hey, Laws?" Paul spoke aloud to the man behind him as they quietly rode Caravaggio back to the knight's home.
"Yeah, Paul?"
"I'm gonna get stronger." Paul was making a statement. His saying it here allowed him to have at least one man hold him accountable for tonight. He wanted someone to bear witness to his promise.
"I think I might join you in that…" Paul didn't respond to him. If he wanted to train with him, then it was plenty fine. Rudeus, while being intermediate in Water God, couldn't harm Paul with sword skills alone. He was still a growing kid, after all. On the contrary, having a full-grown man potentially beat him up would be better for Paul's growth.
"Then let's get stronger together." Paul's held his voice firm. "After all, we can't let our children show us up every step of the way, right?" Paul didn't know why he felt happy after everything that happened. Maybe looking on the bright side was better when the going got rough.
"I totally get where you're coming from, Paul." Laws' dejected sigh told the man all he needed to know.
They left that night behind them and went on with their lives. They would never be the same again, but both Paul and Laws found some form of determination to better themselves after that incident. Paul wanted to be stronger.
Paul wanted to be a dad worthy of calling Rudeus his son.
Notes:
Author's Note: Well, here we have chapter ten. It's already been ten chapters, hasn't it? Not that it's particularly long, but hey, it's still not wrong to be happy about it a little bit in my opinion. The writing process for me is definitely more about seeing how well I can write the characters. I try to make a narrative that's interesting and one that's believable to a Rudeus who has lived his life. I still don't know if I'm going about it correctly, but only time will tell. Anyway, enough about me blabbering. The upload schedule may change from here on a little. It's not that I don't have more chapters to post. It's just that I'd rather have a stockpile of what I currently have than let it get smaller and smaller. If anyone wants to know, I'm currently writing Roa, so if that makes any of you excited, that's good.
As always, feedback is greatly appreciated. I'm always reading them, so it only encourages me to see all forms of criticism.