3 3. Justice for The Forsaken (pt. 3)

"Hell, that sounds about right."

The undead takes a quick glance at his surrounding before shifting his attention to the beastkin in front of him.

Further inspection suggests that this "Hell" is really is just hell, no plant, no life, just a massive quarry expand beyond the horizon.

"Yup, this is hell alright."

The beastkin laugh as he turns away to lie down on the hay bed.

"..."

The undead listens quietly as the old Beastkin as he spoke his thought.

"' You must be proud to be able to provide the High Heavens with your eternal servitude!!', that's a fucking lie and a half if I have ever seen one."

The beastkin says with a mocking tone, he then continues.

"Hell is full of daemons, beastkin and maybe some humies if they are that unlucky, and these people ain't half bad. They are just people that are sick and tired of the Sun Maker bullshit.

Some got lucky and found some really good shit though. Like War Boss Logma, he found a massive cave full of quartz, now he's leading the whole war band full of serial killers."

The beastkin scoff before turning to the other side of his makeshift bed.

'Warboss Logma, Hmm... Leaving that aside, this place must have some sort of bridge system connecting the two realms together given that The Sun Maker just apparently tossing 'heretic' down here.

I might need to interrogate one of the Valkyrie for more intel.

Bringing down Valkyries will prove to be problematic without proper equipment. Hmmm...'

According to the beastkin, Valkyries are probably the most powerful entities down here in Hell.

Acting as puppets for the Arc angel of the High Heavens. The undead knows that he cannot take them lightly, as Valkyries could easily kill him with a single blow as their holy power prove to be lethal towards undead like him.

The undead put aside his thoughts as he wondered around the beastkin's tent.

Though small in size, it got pretty much all living necessity beside kitchen that is.

As he pondered around the tent, its crimson eyes fixate at a bundle of broken tools and weapons.

'Trace of blood on the broken morning stars, failed attempts of killing the foreman? Or maybe a conflict between the people here?'

"The Hell are you looking for, those things are all junks.

If you want a mining pick or something, I'll give you a better one."

The beastkin spoke as he saw the undead delve through his trash.

The undead ignores him and keeps rummaging through the tools. He felt drawn towards the pile, there must be something in there.

There it lies on broken war axe and swords. An object resembling two long pipes with the tubes connected by what seems to be a wooden grip.

The object is tattered and seems to be broken. Further inspection suggests that the object can be bend with an angle of 45 degrees, revealing two holes located between the grip and the pipes.

Inscription located on the grip

'Shotgun?...

. . .

Wait what the Hell is a shotgun???

Something is missing... There is a gap in my memories.

I have no idea what my name or what I am supposed to be, yet I know how to operate this thing.'

The undead's crimson eyes pulse as he picks the object up, his eyes burn even brighter as he inspects the object. Slowly, the burning crimson turn to ultramarine as he tested the feature of the object.

Sounds of springs and small gears creaks and groan as he bends the barrels open.

On the side of the barrel lies a single line of runic inscription, it reads as follow,

"CRN-049_ Anti-Arcane Slug Shot Firearms"

'This will prove to be useful, very, very useful.'

The undead thought to himself as he cocks the hammer back, aim then and pull the trigger.

*Click*

The hammer release and strike the firing pin, but unfortunately, the pin is heavily damaged, causing the hammer to stuck between the grip.

"Three rations for this thing, what say you Beast?"

The undead shifted his gaze towards the beastkin.

Suddenly the beast felt as if the Hell has frozen over.

His eyes were fixated on the beast, the intense pressure from the undead cause him to vomit on the spot.

He has no idea why anyone would want that junk, but he cannot see himself denying the undead.

"..."

The undead says nothing, he then continues to wait for the beastkin to answer.

The beastkin slowly picks himself up from the ground before agreeing to the deal

"Sure.."

Rations will be provided every day at 1200 hours and 0600 hours. The hunger means nothing to him compared to this shotgun.

"That is marvellous. I shall deliver the rations accordingly tomorrow."

The Undead smiles, his eyes slowly turn back to crimson hinting no trace of emotion, The door gently closed as he leaves.

'The armoury is guarded by two valkyries with two more patrolling the area expanding 150 meters.

Not only that, there will be several foremen patrolling the armoury as well.

More observation must be carried out to effectively kill the Valkyries'

'This will be very entertaining.'

The undead smirk at the thought of information Valkyries could provide him.

The undead smiles to himself, his crimson eyes burn brightly as he walks towards the Quartermaster of area-15 quarry.

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Author notes- I got lazy with the name of the chapters ngl.

I will actually now think of a decent name.

No promises tho.