15 Running Over

John woke up from his nap. He drowsily wiped away the drool spilling down his cheek just to get a full whiff of his own spunk. His eyes bulged open.

"F*ck!"

John fluttered his wings to a washroom. He scrubbed his arms, his face, and his mouth clean. In afterthought, he showered clean and became refreshed.

"D*mn! Masturbating is fun but I need to get my act together. What kind of God is still sticky after his last session?"

"Agreed, User."

"F*ck off, System!"

John disposed of yesterday's used "materials" by tossing them in a lake. They plunked and then sunk quickly to the bottom.

"Time to get back to my "duty" as God!" John giggled.

"Oh yeah, System? Are you sure you can't tell me what lady parts are like? Can't you tell me how to lose my virginity?"

"User, your words are unbefitting of a God. Act like a real God and you will get what you want."

"Tch. Typical f*cking Heavenly System. Fine."

John activated his monitoring system he had on Ann.

Instantly, footage of two women sleeping appeared. Ann slept next to Brittney, although they were on separate beds. They looked disheveled and exhausted.

John impatiently started drawing the scene and dedicated it to memory. He still had time before they woke up...

When Ann and Brittney woke up, they prepared to leave. Big-shots rolled into town and it was time to haul ass! Yesterday night stayed an unfulfilled dream, so they didn't speak of it.

Instead, the two sped through the market square and they bought supplies as cheap and as fast as possible. John pestered them about gathering followers but they ignored him the whole time.

It was there that something happened.

Two little girls chased each other, being two raggedy plebs playing. They ran into the road and in front of a carriage. Bystanders looked in shock as the horses barreled towards them and the coachman was too late! The horse's hooves raised and struck!

"Oh my God!" said Brittney.

"What the f*ck?" said John.

At that moment, a hulking and fully armored man appeared out of nowhere nonchalantly. He grabbed the two girls by their dirty clothes and threw the horse off course with one gauntlet. His decorated helmet concealed who he was but he looked like a hero!

"Why is it always me? Can't I have a normal day?" Ann whined.

"Move your *ss idiot! That f*cker threw the carriage your way!!!" John warned.

"F*ck!"

The horses were thoroughly spooked and panicked. The coachman couldn't control them and they ran straight towards Ann and Brittney!

"Let's go!" Ann screamed.

Other folks panicked and tried running into buildings or behind stalls. The flood of people made it impossible to dodge. Ann and Brittney were trapped!

"What kind of bullsh*t is this!?" John screamed.

The huge "hero" in shining armor from before set the two girls down and talked to them. He was oblivious to the danger he caused because of his actions.

The horses neighed and whinnied. Impact was imminent!

"What the Hell's with this coachman?" someone yelled.

"Is he insane? Why is he driving his horses so fast?"

"F*ck me!"

"Somebody, stop him!"

"Help me!"

"I don't want to die!" Ann screamed.

Brittney held her hands together and muttered an incantation. She waved her arms in a dodecahedral design.

"God protect me! Divine Protection!"

A luminous and golden wall appeared, tetrahedral in shape. The horses crashed into it like a brick wall and their limbs snapped like sticks. They cried out in pain and fell. The carriage behind them ran over their bodies, pulping them in a bloody pile. It smashed into the wall and broke it to pieces, but stopped in the process.

"What kind of f*cking carriage is that?" someone shouted.

"Who's the dumb*ss inside there? We need to beat them up and demand compensation!"

"Yeah! Collect money for our damages!"

"Look! They're coming out!"

The carriage opened and a scholarly-looking man in plain white robes stepped out. He walked with grace and elegance, like bamboo bending to the relentless winds but not breaking under pressure. Slowly, he bowed.

"I am sorry for the scare. I did not mean for it to happen, but circumstances dictated fate should play out this way," he said, with an androgynous voice.

"Fate my left *ss check, bookworm! Where's my compensation?"

"Yeah, you nearly killed us! If it wasn't for this Priestess, we would be dead!"

"How are you going to repay us?"

"F*cker, don't you dare push this off like it didn't matter!"

The public didn't buy his appeasing words. They saw that even if the horses didn't crush them, that weird plain-looking carriage would smush them into red paste.

The same filthy middle-aged man from before stepped out of the carriage too. He glared at the people who stared at his Master with bloodlust.

"Oi! You weren't hurt so shut the f*ck up!" he said.

"B*stard, you what?!"

"There's a limit to how arrogant you can be!"

"Didn't you f*cking see what happened to Iliad Von Roheim, you dumbf*cker!"

"Shameless!"

"Eat sh*t you prideful b*tch!"

The crowd began forming a mob. They armed themselves with sticks, stones, and weapons from all around. The middle-aged man snorted and spat at the mob, even when his master tried apologizing again.

"You ret*rds don't know who you are provoking!" said the middle-aged man as he itched at his sheathed sword.

"F*ck! You dare?"

"That's it! Let's beat them up and take their stuff!"

""""Hurrah!!!""""

They charged with fire in their bellies and rage in their hearts! Ann and Brittney were pushed to the back.

But then, the "hero" appeared out of nowhere again! His silver armor, gilded in intricate patterns, with a crimson plume waving from his helm gave him the picture of righteousness. A golden fist was now shown clearly on his chestplate.

"People! Hold your anger! It is my fault this unfortunate incident occurred. Please, let me repay you in full."

He pulled out a large pouch.

"Wait isn't he…"

"The f*ck!?"

"That's Slanely!"

"Why is the Captain of the Royal Guard here!?"

Slanely opened the pouch and flung handfuls of gold coins everywhere.

"Oh my God!"

"It's real gold!"

"I'm rich!"

"F*cker, gimme that!"

The mob fell apart, trying to grab as much gold as they could. Chaos broke out in the market square.

Ann and Brittney slipped out stealthily. Ann may or may not have pilfered a few unattended stalls, but then again, with how much gold was being thrown around, they shouldn't even care. They exited the drama untouched and moved on with their horses in clothes much more fitting to commoners. Their destination? Breightbale!

Still, the chaos in the market square was not unfounded.

The unassuming carriage that caused the chaos before moved on, using new horses. Inside, Slanely sat across from the middle-aged man and the scholar.

"Miss Fuchsia… were your actions truly warranted for today? We spent hundreds of gold for a sham and nearly killed dozens of innocent people. If it weren't for me, those little girls would've died," Slanely said.

He wasn't amused at Ergal's behavior, much less his Young Lady's reckless actions.

"Do not think you understand fate. We must follow its Will beyond the lives of the few. Humanity is at stake, with the Dark Lords loose," said Miss Fuchsia.

"You wouldn't understand sh*t, Slanely. My Young Lady has a Third Tier Magister comprehension over the power of fate. You need to trust in her, since she is the only person alive who can read fate, other than that crazy old hag, Vivian!"

"At least speak more nobly. What Young Lady should have a servant who can't hold his tongue?"

"You f*cking ret*rd! My speech is the entire f*cking reason why I act in such a way! My arrogance and servile behavior are not what I want but need to do!"

Slanely clicked his tongue.

"So, may I finally have the reason for all the trouble you've been wreaking all over our Kingdom? We're still facing threats from the barbarians and spies from other nations. We don't need more trouble from you."

Miss Fuchsia tightly gripped her fingers together.

"A woman. We're searching for a woman. We need to join her in her travels."

"Oh?"

"She's the betrothed of God. If we partner with her, it will be easy to decimate the invading armies and resurging Dark Lords."

"You don't mean—"

"Yes. Antoinette Curie. The runaway noble whose very presence to the Royal Court was like a toxic sickness in the minds of all men. Her beauty astounded them, so the King was forced to seal her looks by the work of Sixth Tier Magisters. You should know this well, shouldn't you?"

Slanely looked away.

"You're her uncle, aren't you?"