Life After Death: The Strength Of Suffering

"I tried so hard, you know?"

I spoke casually, sitting atop the body of a dead man, his blood still warm. My words weren't really directed at him though, no, I was speaking to the one crawling desperately away from me.

"I wanted to be the strongest. Like so many before me. But things didn't work out the way they should've. Not the way I imagined."

The man's limbs trembled, his fingers clawing at the ground in a vain attempt to escape. With a sigh, I reached down and grabbed his ankle and dangled him in the air.

"Can you believe it?" I muttered, staring at the blood soaked earth beneath me. "I died. In a fucking alleyway, to a Norse god of all things."

His body twisted beneath my grip, his desperation palpable. I tilted my head, watching the futile struggle.

"Really?" I let out a slow breath, my tone casual. "You know, I was going to spare you. But since you're so eager to leave my company..."

In an instant, my other hand shot forward, plunging through his chest. His weak gurgle was silenced as his body went limp.

I stood and wiped the blood from my hand, taking a deep breath. The smoke of a one sided battle and death filled my lungs. I surveyed the wreckage around me of the decimated enemy camp.

"How many does this make?" I wondered aloud but of course, there was no answer.

I turned away from the carnage and walked through the remains of the battlefield, my footsteps echoing through the silence. The camp was shattered, its remnants smouldering in the aftermath of the destruction I'd left in my wake.

Suddenly, I heard the sound of hurried footsteps behind me.

A messenger I recognised somewhat appeared, his eyes wide with fear.

"L-Leader of The Eastern Bandits..." he stammered, dropping to one knee.

I hummed in acknowledgment, not looking at him directly. I adjusted my grip on the corpse, now slung over my shoulder its weight a dull reminder of my power.

"T-The Lord has ordered y-your presence, with due haste." the messenger continued, his voice shaky as he held out a scroll.

I took it with one hand, the other still clutching the dead body. I read through the message quickly, my smirk slowly curling at the edges of my lips.

"Do I look like someone who takes orders?"

The messenger froze. His eyes darted between me and the approaching enemy soldiers behind me. I could feel their presence through wind, too late to change anything now.

"Let me show you what happens when someone under me, someone weaker than the sorcerer clans tries to order me around."

I channelled my cursed energy, letting it surge through my body. The air around me seemed to crackle with intensity as I took a step forward. With a flick of my wrist, I swung the dead body horizontally.

"Slash."

A wave of dark energy erupted from my hand and dead body and tearing through the enemy ranks. The soldiers barely had time to scream before they were cleaved in half, their bodies split from waist to chest. Blood sprayed, staining the ground as the remaining fighters dropped lifelessly.

I turned back toward the messenger, who was now shaking on the ground, fear written across his face.

"Tell your clan leader." I said casually. "That if he wants to speak with me, he'd better pay up what he owes me."

The messenger scrambled backward, his face pale as I passed him. The ground seemed to tremble under my feet as I made my way to my awaiting horse.

I jumped onto the saddle without a second thought, my posture relaxed but ready for where I was headed next.

I leaned close to the horse's ear, letting out a soft but firm command.

"If you don't move, I'll eat you."

The horse began to trot, obediently following my lead. As I rode I let my thoughts wander.

'Six years.'

'Six years since I'd died, dragged into this new fucking world.' I scowled, shaking off the dark memories that tried to surface.

'They were only a weakness. That's why you died.'

The thought lingered, but before I could contemplate it further, a signature of cursed energy caught my attention.

'Another clan?'

I sighed, feeling the familiar irritation rise. 'Just what I needed.'

As I prepared to deal with whatever challenge was coming my way, my horse was suddenly cut in half. The cursed technique was swift, a clean slice through its body. Blood sprayed in every direction as the beast collapsed to the ground.

I leapt from the saddle, landing lightly on my feet, already moving into a relaxed stance as I knew no one was a threat in this area.

'I wonder what clan it is this time...'

I turned my gaze toward the one responsible, a young boy maybe fifteen or sixteen. But it wasn't his age that caught my attention. No, it was the extra limbs that his body had. 'A cursed spirit?' I thought. 'No, he still feels human. So somehow a-' I was interrupted from my musings when the boy spoke, his voice brimming with confidence.

"I've heard you're one of the strongest in the East!"

I sighed not particularly impressed, but he seemed to ignore the lack of response and continued.

"I'll kill you, devour you and prove that I'm the strongest!"

I raised an eyebrow curious at his arrogance. I shifted my stance slightly, adopting a posture that might've convinced him I was about to get serious.

'The kid's arrogant, that's for sure.'

Without another thought, I launched an attack that sliced through his two left arms.

"Fuck!" He cursed as he dodged the second part of the strike that would've severed his head.

But he didn't back down. No, he countered with a strike of his own, an attack similar to mine. It collided with me, but I barely felt it.

"Wha—?" he stammered, surprised at the lack of effect.

I grinned to myself, then used a speed technique I'd honed over years of battle. In the blink of an eye, I appeared right in front of him. I delivered a punch, infused with dark energy, straight to his chest.

He was sent flying, disappearing from sight, crashing somewhere.

'Well, that happened.'

I scratched my chin, pondering the encounter, then glanced down at the horse—now nothing more than two halves of a lifeless corpse

'Seems like I'll be walking back home.'