10. Blood, Lions and Other Bad Ideas

Chapter 10: Blood, Lions, and Other Bad Ideas

I crouched in the shadows of the trees, my heart pounding like a drum and my hands gripping my black blade. I watched as the chaos unfolded in front of me. The guards and Freya Mikaelson's soldiers were struggling like desperate ants against a towering nightmare—a massive black lion the size of a house.

The thing was straight out of a horror movie. Its mane shimmered like liquid shadow under the sunlight, and its claws gleamed wet with fresh blood. It roared, a sound so goddamn primal it rattled my bones.

The beast tore through soldiers with a terrifying ease. I could hear the sound of metal snapping and bone breaking. Blood sprayed into the air, staining the dirt a bright red. It was fucking brutal—screams, roars, and the squelch of flesh being torn apart.

The first soldier was sliced clean through, his shield crumpling under a single swipe of the lion's claw. His scream ended quickly, cut off by the sound of his body hitting the dirt.

"Jesus Christ," I muttered, my throat dry.

I watched as the lion tore into another soldier. His body was nothing more than a ragdoll in the lion's grasp, limbs flying as the beast let out another bellowing roar.

I felt my stomach twist, fear gnawing at the edges of my mind. I could feel the heat of the battle, the sharp scent of blood in the air.

Shit... shit... shit...

I knew I wasn't ready for this. My legs felt shaky, but I forced myself to stay put. If I failed this mission, I'd be dead anyway.

No point in cowering, dumbass. You will die if you back down.

I took a deep breath, forcing my hands to steady.

"Alright," I whispered, bracing myself. "You can handle this, or you can die like a coward."

With that, I stepped out of the trees and onto the path. My black leather armor gleamed faintly as the sunlight hit it, and my black blade was ready in my hand.

The moment I did, every soldier and guard turned their weapons toward me. Crossbows, spears, swords—all of them aimed directly at me. I could feel their hostility, their fear.

"Wait, wait, wait—calm the fuck down!" I shouted, throwing my hands up. "I'm here to help."

One of the guards, a tall bastard with golden, fiery mana glowing faintly around him, snarled. His voice cut through the chaos like a knife.

"Help?" he growled. His voice was low, menacing, and he was clearly their leader. His sword glowed faintly with Martial Magic.

"Yeah, help," I said, raising my hands slowly to show I meant no harm. "I've fought shit like this before. Trust me, or don't, but I'm not here to screw you over."

The tall captain hesitated. His sword glowed again as his mana field pulsed with golden fire. His gaze bored into me, and for a moment, I thought he was going to bury that glowing sword into my face. But then he grumbled, "Alright... You've got one shot to prove you're not full of shit."

I nodded without saying a word. My grip on the black blade tightened, and I didn't hesitate.

I unsheathed the sword with a smooth motion, and that's when I felt it—a pull, like the sword came alive in my hand.

I didn't even think about it. I focused my ki without knowing I was doing so, and suddenly, the sword felt lighter. Not just a little lighter. Way lighter.

"Oh... what the hell is this now?" I muttered.

My black blade hummed with an unnatural energy as my ki flowed into it. The pull, the weightlessness—it felt as though I was channeling something through it, amplifying it. I didn't have time to dwell on it, though.

The black lion roared again, shaking the ground beneath me. I charged.

The fight was chaos. Soldiers were dying left and right. I ran toward the beast, my black blade cutting the air. My heart was pounding, my body screaming as I engaged with the beast. I could feel the strength in its movements—the sheer, brutal force of it—and I knew this thing could kill me in a single swipe.

I lashed out with the black blade, cutting through air and fur. The thing roared again, and I could feel my own muscles strain as I fought to stay alive. Soldiers were everywhere, their swords glowing with their mana fields—gold, fiery streaks clashing with the beast's onslaught.

I cut another path toward the lion, focusing on my strikes, my ki pulsing with every slash. The beast was monstrous, unyielding, and every attack sent its fur flying as I struck. I could feel the weight of exhaustion creeping in, but I refused to let it stop me.

Soldiers were already dropping around me. I could hear their screams and the horrible squelch of death as the lion tore through them. Blood sprayed everywhere, soaking the dirt, turning the battlefield into a grotesque painting of gore and desperation.

Three more soldiers died. I could feel the hopelessness in their final cries, their last attempts to strike the beast before they were devoured.

But I didn't stop. I focused harder, channeling every ounce of strength through my black blade. My ki danced through the weapon, glowing now as it became one with my fury. The captain joined me, his sword glowing with golden light as he struck alongside me, magic flaring as he used Martial Magic to its fullest.

The lion roared again, and the battle became a storm of steel, ki, and magic. My blade was alive, responding to every ounce of my energy as I clashed with this monster. The golden light of the Captain's sword and my ki glowed together in a blinding dance of death as we fought.

It felt like hours. Blood, death, magic, and screams. Soldiers died, but we kept fighting.

Finally, with one final push, I summoned everything I had into my black blade. My ki surged, my muscles tensed, and I plunged the weapon into the lion's chest.

The beast let out a final roar, the kind of sound that could shake the earth. And then... silence.

The monster collapsed. Its massive body twitched once, twice, then lay still.

The battle was over.

I stood there, breathing hard, staring at the dead monster. Soldiers lay dead all around me, their blood and screams mixing with the remains of the black lion's roar.

"Well... fuck." I managed, my voice barely audible.

The system wasn't done with me yet. But for now, at least... I could breathe.

I stood there, my hands shaking, staring at the dead black lion as the adrenaline in my body finally started to crash. My legs felt like jello, my body ached from every strain and movement I'd forced it to endure.

Then it hit me.

I bent over, my stomach twisting as a wave of nausea clawed its way up my throat.

"Ugh… oh no, no, no—"

Before I could stop it, the contents of my stomach came pouring up like a vivid, chunky exorcism. I retched violently, spewing bile, blood, and god knows what into the dirt. My knees gave out as I heaved again.

"*Fuuuuuck!*" I groaned, wiping the sweat from my face as I gasped for air. My body felt like it was trying to eject every ounce of my soul through my mouth.

I looked down at the mess I made, surrounded by torn flesh and splattered blood. The scent hit me like a punch to the face.

"Goddamn it. How the hell did I *survive* that fight only to become a pile of vomit in a forest?"

I stumbled to my knees, holding my head as another wave of exhaustion threatened to take me out completely. My hands were trembling as I looked at the bodies littering the road. Some soldiers were half-buried in dirt, others torn apart, their limbs sprawled like broken dolls.

It was so much goddamn blood.

I could feel my throat tighten again. Another wave was building. "*Nope, not again.*"

I forced my breathing under control, shaking my head. My stomach felt like it was filing a formal complaint about my life choices.

I struggled to stand, feeling dizzy. My entire body felt like someone had drained every ounce of energy from me. My arms felt leaden, my chest heaving.

"Yeah, this is fine. Totally fine. I'll just—ugh—get to my feet and pretend this didn't happen."

I groaned and grabbed my sword, slinging it back onto my back as I stood up. My knees nearly gave out again, but I forced myself to keep moving.

I was halfway to steadying myself when the sound of footsteps caught my attention.

"Oh, hell no," I muttered as I turned to see the remaining figures of soldiers approaching me. My eyes narrowed. I could already hear the clattering of weapons and armor.

I saw the captain and four other soldiers walking toward me, their faces worn but determined. They looked battered but alive, and they weren't the least bit intimidating, despite being armed to the teeth.

The captain stepped forward, his golden aura still faintly glowing as his sword glimmered. His voice was steady as he spoke.

"Hey. You… you did good back there." His tone was measured, sharp, but there was a hint of gratitude there.

I wiped my mouth on my sleeve, trying to look like I wasn't about to keel over again. "Yeah, well, glad I could help. My name's Kaizen Vale, by the way," I said, giving them a shaky smile.

The captain extended his hand, his grip firm but not overbearing. "Captain Alaric. We appreciate your help. Without you, we wouldn't have made it."

The other soldiers nodded, their faces a mix of exhaustion and relief.

"I'm… glad to be here, I guess," I said, grumbling under my breath. My stomach was still unsettled, but at least I wasn't actively losing my lunch anymore.

We all stood in a tense, silent moment as I scanned the field again, taking in the bodies, the ruined terrain, and the aftermath of the fight. I felt the weight of exhaustion creeping in, ready to knock me off my feet.

And then I remembered something.

I glanced at Captain Alaric and the soldiers again.

"We were surrounded," I said, my voice sharp. They looked at me, puzzled.

"What do you mean?" the captain asked, narrowing his gaze.

"I mean *you're* surrounded. There's a group of people closing in. Ninjas, assassins, or something like that."

Before I could explain further, the figures emerged from the trees and shadows.

A wave of black shapes, dressed in sleek black clothing, moved with terrifying precision. Two dozen of them. They emerged like ghosts—silent, deadly, terrifying. Their presence was instantaneous, and the sudden appearance made the air feel heavier.

I could hear their breathing, sharp and deliberate, as they emerged from the shadows. Their weapons gleamed in the sunlight: short blades, curved swords, and a few with crossbows. They looked like a goddamn assassination squad.

I could feel my heart sinking.

"Are you *kidding me?*" I spat, my voice laced with frustration. My hand found its way back to my sword.

The soldiers with Captain Alaric visibly tensed. They drew their weapons, their mana fields glowing faintly as they prepared for combat. But I could feel my panic rising.

"Oh, this is *just fantastic.*" I muttered to myself. My voice was hoarse as I cursed the system again.

"Fucking system," I growled, pulling my black blade free again.

Why? Why the hell did I always find myself in these situations? Ambushes, monsters, and now an *assassin horde.* I was starting to think this system had a really twisted sense of humor.

Captain Alaric took a fighting stance, his golden mana flaring like fire as his sword glimmered. The other soldiers were already preparing their weapons, their own mana signatures glowing faintly.

But I could feel it: we were outnumbered. The moment these black-clad figures closed the distance, we would have a hell of a fight on our hands.

I couldn't help but groan again.

"*I hate everything about this system.*"

The black figures stepped closer, their movements so fluid they might as well have been smoke. Weapons glinting, they advanced toward us with terrifying purpose.

And I knew this was only the beginning.

I readied my sword, my hands steadying as adrenaline surged again.

'Here we go,' I thought, preparing for the next fight.

The system, once again, had dragged me straight into hell.