The Red Death

Of course, they didn't end up eating the frightened Mempa. Not that he'd taste good anyway. Instead, they had roasted Imp arms for dinner, with a side of Crystal Worms. It was certainly the most interesting meal Jason ever had.

Surprisingly, the Imp didn't taste 'bad'', but the texture was rough and chewy.

The Crystal Worms were like juicy popcorn. Popcorn that squirmed in your mouth as you chewed them into pieces of tissue and blood. Alexa had shown her preference for Imp's flesh over the Crystal Worms.

As weird as it was, at least, they had managed to secure some sleep with full stomachs. The second day was better than the first, but Jason wasn't really counting them. There was no deadline for the quest Raven had summoned them for.

And so, as soon as the sun rose up, marking the beginning of their third day in the forest, Jason, Alexa, and the wise Buttscratch made an inventory of what they had.

"One sword. One book. A handful of Crystal Worms. Some roasted Imp's meat, and an ugly primate as an emergency ration," Jason listed off, shooting a glance at Buttscratch, no doubt still a bit salty about the lively conversation he had with the Mempa yesterday.

"Aye, yeah, go on... make fun of me. You're just jealous because Alexa sees me as the Alpha," Buttscratch made a little awkward dance as he hooted a laugh at Jason, "I'll teach her how to throw poop at you."

"Buttscratch!" Alexa hissed, squelching down the urge to slam the edge of her tome on the back of the Mempa's head. In fact, there was no need to hold back. She was pretty sure that a cracked skull was very well within the territory of her healing spell.

Buttscratch nearly jumped out of his skin and immediately scooted behind Jason's legs, "Sheesh! I was jokin' around. Just jokin'."

Jason chuckled, schadenfreude tugging his lips upward.

...

Buttscratch, despite his vulgarity and cowardly nature, proved himself to be quite loyal and true to his words. With him taking the lead, the trio easily navigated their way through the forest. Naturally, it was downright impossible to avoid stumbling upon any creatures, but at least they managed to steer clear of the most dangerous spots.

As knowledgable as the Mempa was about the layout of the forest, there was very little he could do when each member of the team was so hopelessly weak in the face of anything stronger than an Imp or a Goblin.

Twice did they run away from a potential altercation with a Grizz, a monster that was reminiscent of an Earthly bear, though almost thrice the size of one, with wicked crimson eyes, and arms that were so long the paws touched the ground, leaving grooves as it lumbered around.

Imps and Goblins were doable, but even Jason would be hard-pressed to win when facing a swarm of them. He backstepped, twirled out of the reach of an incoming dagger, and making use of his momentum, thrust the tip of his sword through a Goblin's head.

With a thud, the green-skinned creature fell down, among the pile of its likewise dead brethren.

A copious line of blood flowed down the nasty gash on Jason's chest. The fabric of his shirt was soaked in the crimson juice, not to mention the sweat and the ichor of the monsters he slayed.

Alexa ran over, hands already glowing, "[Healing]!" she chanted, not taking her hands off until all that was left of the wound was unblemished skin.

"Thank you," Jason said sincerely, slowly mustering the energy to get back to his feet.

"You're a fool," Alexa bit out, lips twitching between a smile and a frown. She didn't like to see him hurt, laying on the ground in a pool of blood while she watched from a safe distance.

That was not how it was supposed to be. Yet it was, and she respected her role; she took pride in it, in fact. He killed. And she healed. He protected. And she protected also. Their dynamic was simple yet efficient.

Jason booped her nose, as if she was a little girl. And despite her best efforts to swat his invasive hand away, he still managed to pinch the tip of her nose.

She sniffed at him.

Buttscratch knuckle-walked over to them, urgency in his eyes, "Yeah, I'm sorry for popping your little bubble of love, but we should get the fuck outta here. Now."

'Something' tingled at the far back of Jason's mind. Something he came to realize was his 'danger sense'. A shiver crawled down his spine as he grabbed Alexa's thin wrist and pulled her away from an incoming arrow.

The rusty, steel tip rustled through the air and stuck to the patch of earth Alexa was standing in, "Goblin Archers," Buttscratch hooted, fear twisting his long face and making him hop around in restlessness, "Come on. Come on. Do something, Jason. Wave yer sword or somethin'!"

Jason promptly ignored his hooting teammate and readied his sword for the next arrow, which came whizzing through the air as soon as he was done positioning himself.

He twisted his neck out of the way, but a third arrow was nocked towards him, flying even faster than the previous two attempts. Jason distantly heard the concerned shout of Alexa and the likewise terrified hoot of Buttscratch.

His senses were in overdrive, each second flowing slower than the last. The tip of the arrow reflected a stray beam of the sun. Jason's eyes tracked the chipped material the arrow was poorly built with. He noticed the brief twirl it did while it drilled towards his head.

Jason's mind churned with the load of information his eyes delivered in this odd yet amazing mental dimension where time crawled at a snail's pace. He knew that if he blinked, even once, he'd be back to the real world, where he wasn't in control of what'd happen next.

His hand twitched, his wrist angling a few degrees to its right. The sword in his hand responded in kind, its sharp edge aligning itself with the trajectory the arrow was traveling from.

And then came the impact. Numbness spread from the tips of his fingers up to his forearm. Still, the arrow was split in twain upon contact with the sharp edge, and dropped harmlessly onto the ground in two halves.

The pain was sudden, swiftly awakening Jason from the state he was in. Time flowed normally now, which was a very, very bad thing considering an ominous rustle went off barely a second after the arrow was deflected, "Let's go!" he said; there was no time to think.

Alexa sputtered out a reply that was lost on him. He grabbed her wrist with one hand, and with the other, the scruff of Buttscratch's neck, and dashed away at incredible speed.

"Wrong direction! Wrong direction!" Buttscratch whined as he was swayed left and right, biting back the sharp pain traveling from the epicenter of Jason's hold on him.

"Tch!" Jason deftly side-stepped an arrow — though that was more out of luck and circumstances than actual skill. Alexa yelped in fright as she hooked arms and legs around him, screwing her eyes shut and silently praying to Raven that they'd make it out of there alive.

"That way!" Buttscratch lifted one furry finger up and pointed to their left. Jason's ears picked up the rustle of another incoming arrow and renewed his efforts. He swerved, shifting in the indicated direction, and accelerated. It was hard to keep his pace whilst running through the uneven overgrowth, with branches and leaves slicing at them with each step.

Eventually, the arrows stopped raining, and Jason slowed down to a stop. Sweat caked his forehead, tracing salty paths down his eyes before falling down. Alexa was still grappling onto him for dear life, her eyes pressed shut so hard they were trembling.

Buttscratch was silently nursing the scruff of his neck.

"That was close, wasn't it?" Jason chuckled, though no humor could be found in it. He strained his ears, his eyes scampering left and right, scouring for any sign or sound that they were being pursued.

"They ain't following us," Buttscratch grunted, "Goblin Archers are mad good from long range, but they don't dare to engage in close range. They're even weaker than a newborn Goblin."

"We've encountered a lot of Goblins lately," Jason observed, still keeping a keen eye on his surroundings.

"There must be a den somewhere around here," Buttscratch said, "Individually, they ain't much, but as a pack, they can be quite a thorn on yer side. We should avoid them if we can help it."

Jason nodded, heaving a deep sigh as he did so. Then he looked to his right, where Alexa was still glued to his side. He bumped her nose playfully and slowly, gently, peeled her off of him.

"Sorry," Alexa muttered once she regained her bearings, "That was unsightly..."

He patted her shoulder encouragingly, "Don't worry about it. I'm just glad you're safe."

At those words, Alexa mustered a smile.

"Ayo, look." Buttscratch hastily interrupted, pointing ahead, "Look! Haha, I was right! Civilization!"

Jason and Alexa followed the Mempa's line of sight, and their eyes fell on a road. It was unpolished, stained, and cracked. Sure. But it was definitely concrete, or at least a material highly similar to it. Not something that mother nature shat out at random in the middle of a forest.

Alexa seethed in excitement as she tugged insistently at his hand, like a child in front of a candy shop, "Jason. Come on! Hurry!" she started dragging him, her feet moving in quick steps.

Jason shared her enthusiasm, but he didn't forget how they were easily ambushed during their first day there. He let himself be dragged, but not once did his attention stray away from the treetops, and nor did his sword droop in a relaxed stance.

Buttscratch followed them at a close distance, wisely keeping a vigilant eye on their surroundings, especially their backs. Jason was inwardly relieved to know that their Mempa companion was not that daft and had some survival instinct at least.

However, despite the slight sway of the leaves, nothing came out.

"It's concrete!" Alexa gushed as she dropped to her knees and wildly fondled the ground, "We must be near some sort of city or settlement!"

Jason idly looked around himself. The road was not wide, at least not wide enough for more than one car to drive through. He couldn't tell where it started or where it ended. It seemingly split the forest in two, creating a passage between two or more places.

He wondered if there were more roads around, or if it was the only one. Then again, why build a road right there, in the heart of a forest teeming with dangerous creatures? They did it either to use it as a shortcut, or they must have been really confident to fend off any potential attacks.

Jason, Alexa, and Buttscratch had treaded through the Kyos' hunting grounds; The Grizzes' territory; And a Goblin nest, only to get to that point. They survived out of sheer luck and Buttscratch's incredible knowledge of the forest's topography.

He truly couldn't imagine how any normal, sane person could do the same, were they in their position.

"Soooo... which direction do we pick?" Alexa asked.

Buttscratch... scratched his butt and pointed ahead of them, "There. Down there is the Village you're lookin' for. Why are y'all even going there? It's not... a pleasant place."

That piqued Jason's interest, "What do you mean?"

"It's an abandoned village... not many... uh... Traplings live there anymore."

"And where did they go?" Alexa's face tightened into a frown. She encased her arms around herself. A chill had tickled its way down her spine, yet the breeze rustling around was not cold.

"They usually end up dead," Buttscratch might have been blunt and obnoxious most of the time, but there was a grim, serious undertone to his words at the moment, "Or... in some cases... kidnapped."

As if on cue, the clop of hooves hitting the hard surface of the road rang out. It was faint, initially. But within half a minute, a herd of horses came into view, dragging a wooden cage behind them.

Most importantly, there were people riding those horses. Three horses. Three men.

Jason stared at them in surprise. And by the looks on their faces, they must have been quite startled too. With a deft flick of their boots, the horses galloped harder.

"Shit, humans," Buttscratch panicked. It was not the first time he made that expression when the word 'human' was mentioned.

'Looks like humans aren't popular here,' Jason was wary, and so was Alexa.

Buttscratch, seeing that they didn't move to get the fuck out of there, also decided to stay behind.

The horses trotted to a halt in front of them. One of the three men smoothly climbed down his horse and approached them with a slow, leisure stride. He wore rusty armor that covered the entirety of his upper body. His steel boots clanked as he sidled up to Jason.

One of his gloved hands was tightly clutched around a lance. The blade was not in prim condition, but it didn't make it look any less threatening.

His face was wizened, covered in poorly-healed scars, with one eye out of service from an encounter with a monster's claw. His long, gray beard twitched as he spoke, "Which kingdom are you from?"

Jason mentally fumbled for an answer. Kingdom? No, the adjective there made it sound like there was more than one Kingdom. Problem was that he had no idea what answer he was supposed to give.

He didn't even know the exact number of Kingdoms out there, let alone their names, or which one those... 'soldiers' were affiliated to.

"We're not affiliated with any Kingdom," Jason decided to tell the truth.

The man was silent for almost a whole minute as his weary eyes dropped on Buttscratch, and a scoff blew through his thick beard.

Then they shifted to Alexa...

"You're traveling with a Mempa and... a Trapling. Quite an interesting party you have there, young man."

The three soldiers behind him hopped off their mounts, their weapons set into a stance that denoted a fight was about to break out. All it would take was a single word from the man in front of Jason.

"I'm not a Trapling..." Alexa hissed, book held tightly against her bosom. Despite her best attempts at oozing out confidence, she was a trembling mess.

It was their first contact with a human, yet they looked so... threatening. Alexa gulped, struggling to calm herself down as she scooted closer to Jason.

"Oho," the man tilted his head in amusement, "You're not? I could swear you look exactly like the batch of we've got back there," he pointed at the wooden carriage, where a choir of sniffs and sobs could be heard.

Buttscratch's previous statement rang through Jason's mind, and an uneasy feeling gripped his heart.

"You!" Alexa gritted her teeth, eyes brimming with hate, "W-What did you do...?!"

The man ignored her in lieu of focusing on Jason, "I like the way you carry that sword, young man. Why you are mingling with this crowd is beyond me, but I don't like to hurt fellow humans. So please, stand aside, close your eyes, and cover your ears... if you wish to live."

One of his steel boots clanked forward, and Jason reacted by drawing out his sword in a perfect overhead arc that would have lobbed off one of the man's shoulders... if only he didn't bat it out of the way with a quick, precise bump of his lance's tip.

"Ah. Swing your sword ten thousand times... that's what I've been told as well. Quite effective for a beginner, but it's crude. It has no power. No style."

The man's arm blurred, and a searing pain spread across Jason's chest. The kinetic energy sent him rolling around the road, adding cuts and bruises to his flesh.

"Jason!" Alexa yelled as she made to follow him, but a painful, steely grip clasped her wrist and threw her to the ground. One of the soldiers had sneaked behind her back and had the tip of his sword expertly hovering over her carotid artery.

"One move and you're dead," he said in an emotionless tone.

"Fuck!" Buttscratch bounced from one foot to another, "What am I supposed to do, I ain't strong!"

A shadow flickered ominously, and Buttscratch barely had enough reaction time to throw himself out of the way of an incoming, curving spear. The blade hacked through the air with surprising strength. The wind rippled, prickling at Buttscratch's face even as he was sent tumbling along the concrete.

He continued rolling until the cold steel of a boot slammed into him and arrested his momentum.

"Pathetic creature," the bearded man, no doubt the leader of the group, spat out while raising his lance high up, "Your kind should stay hidden in the filth."

Buttscratch made no remarks or witty comebacks. He was frozen in fear, by the absolute gap in power, and the inevitability of his death. He never thought he'd die. Not so soon anyway.

"Hey, you..."

A familiar, although pained, voice rose up. It triggered a small smile from the man, who lowered his lance and turned around, not having an ounce of concern that the Mempa could potentially hurt him, even with his back turned.

"Get your hands off them," Jason, using his sword as a cane, propped himself up, his chest torn open and bleeding profusely.

"If you stayed down and quiet, you would have survived..." the man hummed, twirling the shaft of his spear between his fingers, "I'm disappointed, really. Humans shouldn't kill each other. So why go out of your way to force my hand? I don't understand."

Jason straightened his back. And while the action itself was noteworthy under that straining circumstance, it also ended up triggering a spurt of blood to spill down.

Alexa had never felt such a creeping, cold fear seizing her heart, her throat. A choked sound tumbled out of her lips. The blade hovering over her neck inched closer as a warning, but her fear for Jason's life overrode the fear for her own.

Jason looked the man dead in the eyes, "Why are you doing this?" it was such a pointless question too. Different world. Different rules. The survival of the fittest. He could understand it as natural law in the forest, where monsters prowled around, stalking for their next meal.

But why would humans, a sapient species, fully capable of reasoning, logic, and empathy... be so ruthless? So needlessly wicked? Evil dwelt within everyone. More so for some people than for others. Jason knew that.

To be willing to take someone's life so easily, like it was nothing, less than dirt in your shoes, as if the act was disgusting more because of the stain it would leave behind than the murder itself.

"Everyone asks the same before dying," the man drawled, visibly lacking interest in holding a conversation with Jason, but he humored him nonetheless, "We seek a reason, a purpose to live, and a justification for death. 'Why are you doing this?' Isn't it simple? It's because I can."

The man slid one foot forward, and, all of a sudden, the distance between them was shortened to barely a couple of inches. Jason's heart thrummed, adrenaline gushing through his veins. That odd yet comforting sensation of time slowing down overtook his brain, and he'd have felt relief if not for the fact that the lance coming for him was not slowing down at all.

Still, in a stroke of luck, or skill perhaps, Jason backtracked and tilted his head just barely out of the way. The ensuing ripple of wind whipped his hair around. The man quirked one eyebrow up in what looked like a brief flash of surprise, though it quickly died down in the onset of his next thrust.

Jason couldn't avoid it. And if by some miraculous event he did, he'd be left open for another strike. The lance blurred, and Jason's sword sprung up just in time to parry it. Sparks flew off, and an incredible amount of pressure drove Jason to his knees.

"You're not strong, or fast, but you have a somewhat impressive reaction speed," the man commented, stone-faced, "It's a pity that you turned down my offer. You could have become a decent swordsman."

A decent swordsman was not a good swordsman.

Jason gritted his teeth, his hands trembling under the weight of the man's strength. To think he could force him down like that with such a half-hearted one-handed grip.

His right knee rose up a bit as he powered through the pain, his muscles tearing apart like elastic bands that had been stretched past their limit. Pain shot up his arms, and Jason tasted blood on his tongue.

The man was yet again quite taken aback by Jason's will. Still, he wasn't deterred. He tightened his muscles and applied more pressure to his grip.

That was all it took to break the deadlock.

Jason grunted, eyes splaying wide open when his prized sword... shattered. It snapped in half. The upper body of the blade spun in the air before it stabbed the earth, reflecting Jason's dumbstruck expression off its steel.

The man didn't hesitate. He brought his lance back to deal the last blow.

"JASON!"

Alexa screamed, followed by a 'Oof!'. Jason briefly caught her running at him, the man holding her hostage doubling over, hands covering his nether region.

She reached one glowing hand out for him.

With a grunt of effort, he instinctively raised his own. It trembled while it hovered mid-air.

It was foolish, but with a broken sword, all that he had left was his trust in Alexa. She would heal him, and together they'd fight. She would—

Blood splattered out.

She was slammed into a tree, her tome tumbling out of her grasp.

Jason's eyes dilated.

The spear-wielding man stood triumphantly over the prone, bleeding form of Alexa. She twitched, gurgling out blood as her eyes trailed the descending tip of the spear.

In that brief moment of clarity, she regretted that their adventure was over.

She just hoped she'd be able to meet Jason again. Maybe back on Earth, or perhaps some other world. A new adventure would begin then, with no animosity or misunderstandings.

A clean slate. And they'd be friends.

But more than anything else, she hated herself for not being able to do more. To protect him when he needed her.

Jason's eyes flashed a deep, burning crimson. A static current enveloped his body, making his hair stand on its end. Power. Like a supernova, it burst inside him, out of nowhere, and covered him from head to toe with a luminous discharge of lightning.

He glanced back at the leader of the soldiers, the pointed tip of his lance propelling towards his head.

'Slow...'

The world was mute. Had Raven pressed the pause button? Maybe she had come to save them.

[Sanguine Lightning has been temporarily unlocked.]

[Your 'current' body cannot handle the divine power.]

[The system has adjusted the power output to fit your physique.]

A familiar pressure coiled inside Jason's chest, thrumming with each breath. Naturally, such power came with a nasty price tag.

Severe pain followed. It hurt. It hurt so bad he wanted to die. But if he did, Alexa would die too.

'Come on. Endure it. Just endure it. It'll be over soon. As long as you endure it.'

He swiftly grabbed the upper edge of the broken sword, and, with a soft tap of his right heel against the ground, the world tunneled into a blur of colors.

A thunderclap went off, yet the sky was clear of clouds.

Jason blazed in front of the spear-wielding man in a wispy mantle of crimson energy. In his time-distorted world, he could see it. He could see the slight widening of the man's eyes.

Time hadn't stopped; it was simply moving by at a pace that made it look like so. But Jason could pinpoint the most minute movements on the man's face. Like the crinkle of his skin, folding underneath his eyes. Fear. It slowly surged within his orbs.

There was no way his brain was fast enough to fully register what was going on, react, instruct a new sequence of actions for his body to complete, and actually carry them out in time.

The sight of his face, and what he was about to do, made Jason's skin tingle and burn with hatred. Anger. It overrode the pain.

Crimson lightning coalesced and gathered around the broken upper half of his sword. Jason thrust his arm forward, the tip of his blade lunging for the man's head. He expected it to tear through his skull in a shower of gore... not to pulverize it without even making contact.

There was still a foot-or-so of distance between them, yet the man's head was incinerated by the overflowing crimson energy of his blade, not by the steel itself. The lightning bolt traveled through the headless man's body, charring it in the process, and sought an exit point on the ground.

A crescent wave of energy upended the earth before it tore through a row of trees in the distance, completely disintegrating their crowns and leaving smoking trunks behind.

There was not much time left in that 'state'.

He had to be quick.

Without wasting the momentum of his first kill, Jason pirouetted the heel of his dominant foot around, while with the other he stomped forward, bolting in a straight line for the bearded leader.

The armored man was still stuck mid-swing, the tip of his lance sailing towards where Jason 'used' to be kneeling in. Now all that was left was an empty patch of earth and grass. His eyes, no more bored or amused, portrayed fear. It came as a slow, terrifying realization.

Yet there was nothing he could do. The information his eyes processed wouldn't be delivered in time.

Jason flashed in front of him, a trail of crimson lights dispersing in his wake. The jagged blade in his hand was glowing an incandescent red, likely due to the scalding temperature of the bolts coursing through its body.

The man had never seen such a deep crimson before.

It was as if the world was engulfed in blood.

Death had always been associated with darkness, for it was all you'd see once you fell in the cold embrace of oblivion. But this time, the leader — a proud Lance Adept — was swallowed by a crimson abyss.

It was all he could see.

A Red Death.

How... fitting.

...

Jason couldn't stand straight anymore.

'There is one more enemy to kill.'

His vision spun. Pain laced each breath he greedily drank. He took one drunken step forward, the last of the armored trio was there.

The idiot, frightened as he was, had unconsciously released his grip on his one and only weapon.

Such an easy target. Jason wanted to chuckle, but oxygen was precious at that moment. He couldn't waste it on something as banal as some villainous chortle.

Time was slowly going back to normal. He had to act now.

A bolt of lightning slithered around the blade.

The soldier stuttered out a warning, not that Jason could hear it with all the buzzing in his ears.

And then he started running for his life, boots clanking clumsily onto uneven ground.

Jason's eyes narrowed as he commanded the power within him to swell and course through his legs. He lifted one foot up and—

And a sharp pain flared up, making him stumble and fall down.

The crimson energy around him subsided.

"H-Holy shit, Jason!" Buttscratch knuckle-walked up to him, "Y-You okay, mate?"

"A-Alexa..." Jason said in a shaky breath, "Help... her..."

Terror twisted the Mempa's wide features, "O-Oh shit!" and then he scampered towards Alexa.

The pain grew stronger, so much so that Jason was half tempted to bite his tongue off and kill himself right then and there. His hands balled into fists, veins bulging all over his flushed face.

A couple of glitchy blue windows popped up in front of him.

[Agility: F → E]

[Strength: E → D]

[Quest completed!]

['Sword Mastery (F)' → 'Sword Mastery (E)']

[Rank: Sword Trainee → Sword Pupil]