11 Expedition

TW-Brief mentions sex

----- between paragraphs mean a time skip

Welp, this is it huh? Today is the day I begin my death march to Tredor academy and make those who wronged us kneel. I narrowingly have enough time to pray, freshen up, and make sure I have everything I need for the hellish two-week trip.

So I was rather surprised at the slurping sounds and pleasurable feeling tingling my little Judas. I looked down to see whoever was giving me the sloppy toppy, only to lock eyes with Charlotte's mouth vigorously going up and down on my shaft.

The most common response in this situation was to jump and yelp in confusion, or tell her to stop or something along those lines, right?

Muffling a gaping yawn, I crack my neck left, right, and all around.

"Mornin"

Whatever response she has planned is quickly smothered by the massive release of my seed into her petty little mouth.

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I was only halfway through my reps when I noticed that Char Char was not only done cleaning off my offspring but long done judging by her sitting across from me, eyes fixated on my body as sultry pants the only audible noise in the room.

Once I was finished and my body was slick with sweat, it was finally time for my daily prayer to Mary. The only issue was that Charlotte was in the room, and I needed a way to get her out.

"Charlotte"

"Oh! Yes? Sorry I got lost in my head there for a second"

I'm oh so curious to know what type of sweet, demented thoughts swim around in that head of yours Charlotte

"Step outside for a minute"

"Why? You gotta pee or something? Judging by your response to my wake-up present, you're clearly not a shy person, oh! You gotta take a shit huh? Don't worry I won't stare." She questions, her innocent, girly tone contrasting her earlier behavior.

"I wasn't asking you. You're either walking out by your own two feet, or you're going to wake up outside my door god knows how many minutes later. Or if you're really unlucky, you'll wake up in someone else's bed." I darkly state, wondering if she's smart enough to take up the hint.

Charlotte audibly gulps, the meaning behind my words clear to her.

"You wouldn't…" She whispers, the slight shaking in her hands not hidden from eyes.

Ohhh I hit a soft spot huh?

My laughter fills the room, mother always used to say my laughter scared people, and judging by dear Charlotte's discomfort, she was right.

"Your a fucking horrible stalker if you think otherwise," I respond, my voice taking a dark tone.

She weakly nods in reply, gently closing the door behind her as if I was going to lash out on her for anything less.

The way I treated her will sicken me no doubt, but I'll suffer from that later.

Once the convulsions of pain finally reside, I dress in the clothing Fricn tailored for me, taking a second to marvel over how magnificent the quality was.

I have no time to lolly about, much to do with so little time.

The expedition officially starts at exactly 1 in the afternoon, and I have so many things to painstakingly double-check.

Firstly, I sharpen and oil Penance. Even so, it's a blade I will narrowingly use in the future, I need the sword in its best condition. Once I'm finished, I slip the blade in its plain leather scabbard. I mentally tug at Ardor asking if it wants any cleaning nor sharpening. Ardor wiggles in response, letting me know it's fine for the time being.

Picking up my double-barreled crossbow I quickly inspect it, finding it in satisfactory condition. With my weapons at an acceptable level, I turn my head to the surplus of gadgets and defective improvised explosives that are haphazardly strewn about.

Hmm, let's see...

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After roughly an hour and a half of packing, testing, and improvising, I finally got everything I needed organized for the expedition. Putting everything on I do some light cardio. Jogging in place, high knees, yadda yadda. The weight was acceptable enough, but I won't be fighting with the extra weight in the best-case scenario.

After sustaining myself on a small plate of meat, bread, and cheese left for me by whomever,(probably Charlotte, gods I don't deserve her affections, however, twisted they were.) I set out to the town gates, the destined meeting point for the expedition. The gates were roughly an hour from the tavern. I had roughly 2 hours until the expedition officially began, so I would have an hour of free time.

Luckily for me, the training arena was only 20 minutes away from the walls, so I'll waste time training, and that's exactly what I'll do.

I begin with a slash, halfway through the movement I turn the slash from a vertical one to a horizontal one, finally finishing a combo with a stab. Once the stab finishes the height of its movement, I drop the sword quickly, wrenching my crossbow from its holster with honed in speed as I simultaneously slide backward, aiming my crossbow at the head of my nonexistent foe, ending the first stance of Blood floats on water. Sweat glistens off my body as I walk over to the practice blade I was using, picking it up.

Even from here, a few blocks from the walls I can faintly hear the rustling footsteps of nobles, commoners, and slumies alike.

"Looks like it's time to go" I muse under my breath, wiping as much sweat off me as I can with a towel nearby.

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Even though the knights were not going to be here for another 30 minutes, the walls were bustling with teenage hormones. The nobles, commoners, and slumies all crowded around one another, giving other groups a wide berth and eyes full of distrust.

I didn't find myself trying to mingle with anyone, let alone other fucking nobles, so here I am back against a wall as I waited silently, ignoring the looks of confusion, anger, and envy aimed towards me and the patch on my tailcoat clearly showing my status as sponsored, even though I'm not nobility.

The 30 minutes went by fast, mostly because they came early.

"Hello, nobles and nobodies! My name is Salnus, and I'm the Captain of our Majesty's experimental 5th battalion mixed combat unit. The only reason why I'm here personally overseeing this expedition is that someone of the king's interest is here, and I have to make sure she doesn't die. She's kind of a big fucking deal, so she and the nobles get top priority, but the rest of you? I could give less than avoiding frog's tight cunt. As long as you stay in your carriages and follow orders, you'll be fine… probably." Salnus introduces himself, pausing for breath. He's clearly using kamra to amplify his voice.

He's rather… overweight for a knight and a captain at that. That means he got his rank via pulling strings, or he's the real shit. I bet somewhere in the middle. The man was around 6'3(maybe?) and carried a rapier at his belt.

"Now, with this year's expedition, comes with a new way of cutting the weak from the strong! It's sure as hell easier to do it now than once you get to the academy, well at least the survivors" His tone is devoid of mercy, but somehow full of suffering. With a wave of his hand, a detachment of knights stepped forward, standing alongside Salnus. The knights each used different weapons that ranged from battle-axes, war hammers, and morning stars, to bows, longswords, daggers, rapiers, and more. Almost every weapon style there was being presented by a knight.

"You will split among yourselves by fighting style and fight a knight that matches your own. If the duel is satisfactory to my standards, or you somehow beat a knight, you will be left behind. Better luck next time as they say!"

So that's what they are doing huh? Add commoners and slumies barebone knowledge of fighting with a blend of commoner/slumie discrimination and the fact that "accidents" could happen, and you get a nice bowl of fucking bullshit. By the time the carriages roll, there'll be barely any commoners, let alone slumies.

And the worst part? I can't do jack shit about it.

I can't save them all Ceaser

Your right, but I can sure as hell avenge them.

I droned out the rest of whatever Salnus was saying, instead keenly studying every knight.

No jesters/tricksters, I guess a dagger user would work.

"Thank god Fricn got my fake identity finished up before this," I think to myself.

Everyone present was already organizing themselves by their combat style, everyone but me of course, I opted to stand as far away from everyone else as possible.

"SO! Who wants to go first? Don't be scared, we have healers on standby." Judging by his sneer, I doubt anyone besides nobles would get treatment if they get hit by the knights pulling their punches.

Welp, let's get to it.

"I'll go" I declare loudly, infusing kamra of my own to make sure my voice is heard over everyone else's.

"And you are?" Curiosity tickles his voice, no doubt wondering how a commoner got such expensive gear.

"Tardabs Arclus" My voice is flat as I try my best to make sure none of my former mannerisms show.

"Never heard of 'em" He replies, his voice bordering a snicker.

"Fricn would be hurt then" I responded snarky, showing off the sponsor badge proudly.

Salnus raises an eyebrow as hushed whispers spread throughout the nobles, Fricn may be holding up in a shitty tavern in the slums, but he has a lot of power.

"Interesting, interesting indeed! If Fricn sponsored you, then you should provide some sort of show, won't you? Come over to the front, what's your style?"

"Jester"

Whispers from the knights now, Jesters are a near-extinct fighting style, and on top of that, you need a noble level of education to know that name, let alone the actual style.

"Guess that cowardly swine really believes in you eh? Enough to teach you blasphemy" Salnus sneers, spitting the last of his sentence. "For reasons you surely know, we don't have knights who reach that low, so you'll face off one of my Taube, a hunter. Any objections? You'll face him anyway, but I gotta be a gentleman" That causes a few snickers and laughs from the nobles and knights.

I stifle a giggle, "No objections at all, just get a healer on standby" I snarl, letting a sliver of my kamra snake around my voice.

The sentence leaves everyone on edge, fear that sprouted out of nowhere, making the youngbloods tremble and causing Salnus's expression to turn serious, his soft-hearted, ignorant tone gone instantly.

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After taking my backpack off I found myself in a makeshift arena, which was fancy for a dirt patch with a circle dug in around it. Nobles, commoners, and slumies alike crowded around us as if they were watching two teenagers fighting over a girl. Shrugging off my crimson tailcoat, I hand it to the nearest porter as I quickly and effortlessly put two gloves on, my scarred, muscular arms on the show for everyone to see.

Armed with only Penance, Ardor, my modified crossbow, and some gadgets, I meet my opponent in the middle of the circle. Apparently, his name was Fisher, not like it mattered anyway,

I MEAN I WAS GOING TO BEAT HIM INTO A FUCKING PULP

Fisher wasn't just a knight, he was a Taube, a hunter. Judging by the wicked daggers at his hip and the dark, pitch-black tattered remains of a jacket, he saw his fair share of shit and wasn't going to look down on me for my "commoner origins".

I unsheathe Penance and drop the now empty scabbard on the dirt floor, my ears not registering the noise it made, or any other noises really. My entire being was focused on the man in front of me.

Sanlus explains the rules.

"Don't treat this as a sparring session, I expect you to fight as if your life depended on it because it most likely will. You can only win if your opponent is either knocked out or physically unable to continue. We don't want potential students dead before they even start the expedition, so try your best to not kill one another, however, both you get too heated in the midst of the battle and someone does meet their maker, it happens. However, I will be extremely pissed, and both of you are smart enough to know you don't want me pissed. Understood?"

"Yes," Both of us say in unison.

"Now bow to your opponent"

Neither of us moves an inch.

A tense, awkward silence fills the air for no less than a heartbeat.

"Now bow to me" Sanlu commands.

Fisher turns and bows deeply to Sanlus, while I tilt my body to the bare minimum of a bow, not even caring to hide my disdain for him.

"3"

I tighten the grip on my sword, the blade seemingly weightless in my hands.

"2"

Fisher takes out his daggers with a whistling sound, both of them roughly my arm's length.

"1"

We lock eyes, it's either me or him, and I have no plans on losing

"FIGHT"

With a primordial growl, I rush Fisher, my opponent meeting in kind.

CLANG CLANG CLANG

It wasn't even seconds since the fight began and already Fisher and I were exchanging a multitude of moves. I block one of his daggers strike for a strike while batting the other away with my blade-resistant gloves. Switching my sword hand half a breath after letting out a slash Fisher dodges, unable to counterattack as I smoothly turn the vertical slash into a horizontal one, an attack Fisher narrowly manages to block with the flat of his dagger, his other one going for a swipe at my face that I easily catch glove-handed.

I'm laughing now, finally happy I can fully throw myself into a fight. Even with the mask blocking the bottom half of his face, I can clearly see the surprise on his face. I break out a stalemate with a vicious kick to his stomach, a blow he has no other choice but to backward roll away from.

Exactly what I wanted

I drop Penance, the move enacting a gasp of surprise and confusion from the onlookers. The double-barreled crossbow is leveled to his kneeled form instantly, as I pull the wooden trigger with lustful abandon, the first bolt aiming for his head as the second and final one goes for right in the middle of his scarcely protected chest.

He easily bats the first bolt with his dagger, but as I suspected, the second bolt takes him by surprise, sinking into his chest, his leather garments causing it to not sink as deep as I hoped for. Pain freezes him as I rush in for the kill, grabbing Ardor and flipping it into a sideways grip as I slash for his exposed jugular. Somehow he notices in the last second and tilts his head back, dodging the blade by the skin of his teeth.

Well, that's what would have happened. Before the handbow bolt even sunk into his flesh, I expected a man of his talents to be able to snap out of the pain, so I infused Ardor with my tainted karma to make the blade expand in length, the blade growing the extra inch needed to slash Fisher's throat open.

Shocked silence filled the sorry excuse of an arena, the silence was only broken by the gurgling sound of Fisher choking on his own blood. I stand there emotionlessly as his red hot blood spews onto the dirt floor below. Walking into the fountain of blood, I grab Fisher's head by the hair, before SLAMMING ARDOR INTO HIS SKULL, the needlepoint blade now made rapier impaling his brain as if it was paper.

Fisher's body falls to the ground, his blood staining me from my hair to my chest, my grey undershirt gifted a fresh coat of red.

"He couldn't even use magic" The distorted thought floats in my mind as all hell breaks loose.