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***
Despite its outward peacefulness, today was a real treat in this poor neighbourhood - two careless adventurers were walking down the main street, not at all hiding their material prosperity. And the fact that these two individuals were adventurers could be easily understood by anyone just by looking at them: expensive-looking armour, lack of any identifying marks, and only one sword on the effeminate figure.
But the fact that they wore helmets was a little surprising to the figures hidden in the shadows. Although such things were not uncommon, the public opinion about such people was simple - adventurers and helmets were incompatible, and therefore every wearer was potentially dangerous.
It was well known that adventurers did not like helmets and almost never wore them, either because of the desire to show off or because of poverty, which meant that they were an easy target for a surprise attack. And to enrich oneself at the expense of such losers is a matter of honour. True, here, as they say, not all the gold that is in the helmet, so there are conventions that must be respected. Firstly, all this applies most of all to newcomers - rednecks who decided to come out of their backwoods and whom it is a sin not to rob, and these individuals are hardly them. And, secondly, which is much more likely, they have come for them and are provoking them on purpose....
Maybe the 'honourable' people were not averse to robbing their neighbours, but they were not idiots. There were, of course, exceptions, but natural selection quickly cleared their ranks of such individuals, and those either got caught or left for one reason or another. In general, as it is not difficult to guess, despite the seemingly easy profit, no one was in a hurry to cut the wool from unknown individuals. Besides, there were few people willing to do it in the light of day, when the risk was especially high, but, for the sake of decency, to pluck game from afar and check the danger, was for many a matter of honour, and therefore, as a rule, for reconnaissance they let off the leash a separate kind of 'brothers', who were not pitiful and could always be recruited among peasants and goobles. Although, the pakhans themselves rarely differed from the bourgeoisie. That's why nobody was surprised when the two adventurers were met by a gang of small racketeers.
No more than ten men, all as one: shaved to the ground, and very unfriendly. 'Bald,' as they dubbed themselves. Battered and dressed in rags, they were mostly armed only with makeshift clubs, though some of them had knives, and two of them even had quite good axes. The only one who differed in any way from these ragamuffins was a two-metre tall man with a dull expression and a 'smart' look on his face. He was the only one who didn't wear rags, but held a full-fledged short sword.
As a representative of the Bald Company, this brute, playing with his muscles for the audience, stepped forward, and in a dry but firm voice said:
- 'What are we doing here all alone?
And when he smiled, it became clear to everyone, or rather, only to the two who were not lucky enough to be standing right in front of him, that he was also toothless. So the question of 'why?' came up, but it soon became clear. It was their plan - to draw all the attention to him, before the other brothers surrounded the strangers, as if hinting: 'Well, losers, take off your armour, or we'll fucking slap you so hard that your mother won't recognise you.
- Do you fucking understand, huh? Take your clothes off and your gold for the fucking pass. This is Baldy's territory, yo.
- Fuck, are you fucking deaf?
- Give me your money, take off your clothes!
- Drop the sword, we're throwing money in the fucking pool. - The threats came one after another.
Surprisingly quick work. A lot of moral pressure. The Baldies were in no hurry to engage in a beating, just threats. If the newcomers had been here, they would have run with their bare arses and given it all up, but the strangers didn't seem in the least intimidated by this kind of shouting. And suspiciously to the observers, but not to Bald, they remained silent, still unmoving.
- Are you fucking deaf? Don't you understand? Take it off while you're still in one piece, or you won't be able to pick up a fucking bone! - One of the bald men shouted with more menace, and that was the trigger.
As Arien nodded, the alleyway fell abruptly silent. In an instant, Ariné was out of sight, and the next second, a scarlet pole, the colour of blood, whistled over their heads, severing the necks of four of them. Before anyone realised what had happened, the staff whistled again. The blood of three more bandits splashed on the ground.
It was an attack too fast for a mere human to comprehend. Nine men lost their heads, showering the road and the lone lad with their blood. Only the leader, stupidly flapping his eyes with his mouth hanging open, was still alive, but that was only because of the whim of the adventurers, which was subtly hinted at by the sharp blade near his neck.
- Well, well, well... what have we here? - Arien said quietly enough, not for a burly man, glancing around at the old houses where the watchers were, who immediately backed away from the carnage that had just occurred.
Making sure no one else was watching, the guy hummed, turning his attention back to the boogeyman. He couldn't see, but somehow he could feel the gaze of the man who had ordered his brothers to lose their heads; he shuddered and mumbled, trying to say something, but could only wheeze, glancing at the dagger dangerously close to his neck, then at the calmly standing guy in front of him.
It was a horrible sight, and it really frightened the boogeyman.
- Do you know why you are still alive? - Arien asked his trembling hostage, but immediately continued, suppressing any babbling from the big man. - It's simple, you are the chosen one! - Arien said in a strange, but no less frightening tone, reaching his hands sharply towards the sky.
'Chosen One? That psycho... what is he, some kind of fucked up arsehole? Bitch! Aaaaaaah! Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!' - mentally screamed, unable to believe he was the chosen one. The only thing he wanted to do now was to get away from the fucker.
Arien gave him a friendly pat on the shoulder, noticing the man's trembling.
- Don't shiver, chosen one, but let's go to a quiet corner and discuss your... 'Work,' Arien grinned again, causing the big man to waggle his head in despair. - You want to live, don't you? - he barely nodded. - Of course, everyone wants to live well and eat good food, but you have to work hard for it!
The helmet-wearers fled from the scene of the crime, and the bogey shuddered even more when the rare rays of sunlight that had been creeping into the dark alley suddenly disappeared completely. The only reason he didn't shift into a squeal and stab himself was the voice in the darkness:
- Don't piss yourself, just insurance just in case. Although... no, I won't get your hopes up, Chosen One, you're going to be fucked! - Arien fell silent, and afterwards, so the big guy wouldn't hear, he muttered. - Hmm... he's already at that conditioning for exposure... not bad, but I've been lucky initially and for others... I'll have to think of something. - Finishing his musings, the guy sharply stabbed the bogeyman in the liver, making him almost stab the dagger at his throat from the sharp pain and weakness, but Arine knew her business and had been warned. So the next thing the sufferer didn't expect was another round of pain from the hard kicks. And a voice that kept repeating the same thing: 'Bitch, bitch, bitch, bitch, get it, bitch, you drove me crazy!'
From such humiliation and pain, the big guy was twitching, but the forces were not equal, so for a whole minute he was beaten with his legs, making him more and more desperate. It got to the point where he almost lost consciousness, but a strange energy prevented him from doing so, which only made him whimper even more. The bandit didn't know why they were doing this to him, but he didn't care about anything anymore. He had lost the will to fight and was ready to do anything to stop his torment....
A kind of withdrawal, that's what it was.
That's what Arien wanted. The very idea of the whole spectacle had been fulfilled with an A-plus. He stopped beating the sheep and then touched the big guy's head.
The energy invisible to everyone else quickly reached the test subject's head and began to roughly affect the other's brains. The still whole, living personality, in the form of a grey ball, under the pressure of this energy completely lost its brightness and was shattered into small fragments, but only for a moment. Not even a second later, the energy swirled, creating a slightly faded from the original form of the sphere and a new personality. Undoubtedly, all of this was not without consequences, and the subject felt little pleasant sensations, but there was trivially nothing he could do.
Miku's abilities had paid off, creating a dumb dummy with a blank stare, useful only for rough work and being an observer, but only temporarily, for the result was ineffective, and the personality quickly broke down due to rough work and lack of experience.
But even with this result Arien was satisfied. After all, this was only the beginning!
- It's a shame he won't live a week...' Arien mumbled pitifully, barely nodding and shaking his head. - Okay, okay, I get that you did the best you could. Thank you. Now, send him to watch the entrance to the city. Just wait...' Arien touched the boogeyman and healed him, 'that's it, off you go, chosen one! - The boy couldn't help but cheer.
- I got it, I got it...' he agreed indifferently, and staggered out of the darkness that the alley had turned into, slowly, step by step, shuffling his feet until he was walking as before.
His goal was simple - observation, and he would fulfil it until he died of personality decay or other ailments.
No one could imagine a small massacre of seemingly harmless, bald peasants in the safest city... It would be a nightmare for the law enforcers for some time to come if the corpses didn't suddenly disappear, but even blood spilled everywhere would still alarm the guards.
Besides... Arien realised what the consequences of this whole spectacle could be, and from the suggestion of a possible scenario, only clutched his head, groaning softly...