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The Sound of Despair

Transmigration. What if the cause is not a bus running you over, nor you falling into a pond, but you get five years to prepare, fully aware of what you’re getting into? Well, at least you think you know what you’re getting into... This is the situation Mike, a professional MMA fighter, finds himself in. Given the opportunity to leave behind his life on Earth and enter a world of swords and magic, he prepares to face the challenge. In a world of discrimination, injustice, and social class inequality, Mike demonstrates how far Earth has come in developing its martial arts and how much a simple low-kick can hurt. You’re stronger? Well, first, you will have to land a hit. You’re faster? Does it really matter if your movement is so wasteful? You know incredible techniques? Are they better than the legendary one-two combo, perfected by legends through thousands of years? You have more money? That indeed seems to be a problem. You have companions? It’s not like I’m lonely... I don’t need anyone… You know magic? Ok, now it’s just getting unfair. Mike will have to learn to adapt, improve and find his path in a world that is ruthless beyond compare. --------------------------------------------------------- The first five chapters can be a little slow and serve more as a prologue. If you find yourself bored or generally dislike "training arcs," just skip to the sixth chapter when Mike's life in the new world officially begins. In general, there will be a lot of training, as I love training sequences like in the 36th Chamber of the Shaolin. There will also be close to no romance, and while this is not a pet taming novel, there will be companions. I just enjoy writing as a hobby and hope I can share that with you. =) Link to full cover: https://imgur.com/a/YrzVqNg

Stormfury · Kỳ huyễn
Không đủ số lượng người đọc
80 Chs

Rampage Bear

"Shut up, Daga. We are both mercenaries, so there is no need to talk about honor. I guess that dagger was poisoned, huh? Well, if I will die, then I will be taking you with me. Let us share a beer in the afterlife. What do you think?" Reinhardt knew how Daga operated, so it was no surprise that the tiny cut on his cheek would be enough to kill him.

The slave camp witch would never heal him, and Healer Kuran was too far away at Dagger's Rock Town. As a mercenary, Reinhardt had faced death hundreds, if not thousands of times. He always knew that one day his luck would run out. While he was not scared of dying, leaving behind Sturm felt terrible.

Not only did the boy lose basically his foster father, but with a slave status and no one backing him, his life would never be this easy again. Reinhardt had planned to bring Sturm to his family in the Northern Tribes following Edgar's demise, as northerners respected strength and martial ability above everything.

A slave would have a terrible life there, but it would be less terrible than anywhere else. Now, that would not be possible anymore. The least he could do now was to get rid of Daga. Even if the assassin let him go now, who knew if he somehow got tricked into a contract again? The man was too dangerous, and with the poison in Reinhardt's system, his record of never having failed a contract would keep on.

Daga was still approaching with slow steps, only grace and deadly elegance in his movement, without any hesitation at all. "Physically exhausted, mentally exhausted, and poisoned by gelsem. You are no longer a threat, Reinhardt."

Gelsem was famous for its ability to paralyze even high-rank bronze beasts, as evidenced by the gorilla behemoth. If it slowed down a six-meter tall gorilla, then it wouldn't be surprising if it stopped the heartbeat of a fifth-step commoner. A berserkergang could slow down the paralyzing effect, but the end was inevitable.

This would be the true final berserkergang. Reinhardt took a deep breath and entered a relaxed state.

"I know you won't flee even if told you, and I know you are just as exhausted as I am. What do you think, reckon we can take him together? I've got one last surprise in me."

Sturm clenched his fights in response. "He knows how we fight, but we also know how he fights. We will kill him, and then I will take you to that witch. If she does not heal you, then she will die as well."

The coldness in Sturm's voice was unlike anything Reinhardt had ever heard from him before. Edgar's death changed him unlike anything before. The life in the quarry, the passing away of One Ear, or even the many times they brushed close with death against magic beasts had hardened the boy, but he had never killed another human before. It had always been Reinhardt to inflict the fatal strike.

Yes, Sturm wanted to kill Sebastian. He wanted to kill Smiling Joe, Mastil, and a few more. But the desire to kill someone and actually going through with it were very different things. This was not a moment of blind emotion or rage but a cold, calculated desire to kill.

<<The boy is willing to give up his humanity for Edgar… and for me. With such determination, how could I do anything less than that? Doing this in the north would have brought eternal shame onto my family, but now, for my new family, it will bring hope,>> Reinhardt thought.

They were under the pressure of time, while Daga could simply wait for the paralysis to finish the job. Reinhardt let the rage flow through him, consume him, with only a single request towards the inner beast in exchange for completely giving up control. Spare the boy, and kill everything else.

Daga felt a shiver run down his spine, it felt like a predator was eyeing its prey, and the trained assassin was nothing more than a defenseless rabbit under its gaze. A killer quickly learned to trust his instincts, and the masked mercenary jumped behind the tents for cover.

A berserkergang usually caused a berserker to expel some kind of crimson steam through their skin, but what Reinhardt did this time was different. He was not channeling the Rampage Bear and losing control due to its influence but giving control of his body to the beast. At this moment, Reinhardt was nothing more than a passenger, able to provide some advice but unable to influence his body's actions.

Unleashing the inner beast and giving it your body was frowned upon among the berserkers of the Northern Tribes. They believed the soul to be consumed in the process, and a warrior would lose the blessing of a glorious death. A berserker was allowed to lose himself in rage, as the rage would fade away at some point. That was almost impossible when giving up control because which inner beast would want to be a mere passenger again?

While Daga was still retreating and gaining distance, fur started growing out of Reinhardt's skin. The former guard captain's muscles started bulging, and the fingernails grew rapidly. The teeth began sharpening, and the once human eyes gave way for a pair of blood-red berserker eyes.

The transformation jolted Sturm out of his concentration, but he quickly regained it and kept concentrating on establishing a [Black Room] again. Whatever happened to Reinhardt, the witch would take care of him later.

As the transformation neared its end, a three-meter tall werebear had replaced Reinhardt, spreading its claws wide and roaring at the heavens.

*ROAAAAAAR*

The surrounding tents started fluttering under the roar's pressure, and the Rampage Bear fell on all fours. It looked at Sturm with bloodshot eyes but showed no intention of attacking the boy, growling at him instead. Not mauling a single boy in exchange for full control was a price it was willing to pay.

As the bear waited for his response, Sturm finally managed to activate the Nine Pillars of Awareness, projecting the [Black Room] in his mind. The surroundings were clear to him, and not even Daga could hide from his senses.

"Eight o'clock, behind three tents. Moving east towards ten o'clock, thirteen meters distance." Sturm informed what he thought was Reinhardt of the assassin's location in a practice manner.

How could a few lousy tents that were almost falling apart stop a two thousand kilo werebear? The Rampage Bear blazed through them like they were inexistent, and with Sturm guiding it, it was no different than being in an open field. A trained assassin, skilled in the art of ambushing, hiding, and attacking from unexpected angles, confronted a mighty and terribly mad werebear without any cover. It was not hard to guess what the result would be.

Daga displayed his disciplined mindset while dodging the continuous charges like a Spanish matador. Still, no matter how he used the tents to entangle the beast, it would simply rip it apart and take up the pursuit again. Even the poisoned throwing daggers did not immediately slow the Rampage Bear down. While Reinhardt's inner, no, outer beast already looked like a giant porcupine, the effect of the poison would have to stack up for at least half an hour more before being able to disable it.

The faster Daga moved, the quicker Sturm had to give instructions. Neither the Rampage Bear nor Sturm himself noticed the issue. Only Reinhardt, spectating from inside the beast and occasionally informing it of the assassin's next moves, realized what was happening.

Only by being informed of Daga's position could the Rampage Bear truly threaten the assassin, so what was the logical step in resolving the predicament? Correct, taking out the source of information. Sturm was already exhausted, and activating the [Black Room] forced him to stay immobile, concentrating only on his senses.

Taking the boy out would be a piece of cake. A single well-aimed dagger would end the fight. The cold-blooded killer, known to never let his targets escape, refused to kill a worthless slave, endangering his own life as a consequence.

Reinhardt understood. Just like him, Daga had sparred hundreds of hours with Sturm and must have seen his own younger self in the boy, training every day until collapse. On top of that, Sturm was never scared of the masked mercenary, treating him with respect and courtesy instead of fear and apprehension like most others.

While loyal to the code, engraved in his very being, Daga tried to give back for the few friendly interactions he had ever had in his life. Every time the Thunder Merchants joked with him, even if he had shown no emotions on the outside, rarely talking or responding, the ice around the killer's heart melted just the tiniest bit.

Now that his own mistake forced him to kill Reinhardt, the least he could do was let the last of the Thunder Merchants survive. The darkness that had been his life would finally come to an end.

The surrounding tents were already destroyed, and fatigue was beginning to affect Daga. By now, the Rampage Bear had been sufficiently poisoned. Not even the best healer would be able to save him at this point. The job was done.

It took no longer than a second after the assassin relaxed for the tiniest bit to him finding himself being crushed between the werebears jaws. The bloodshot, feral eyes momentarily receded, giving way for two very human blue eyes who threw one last thankful look at Daga before the upper and lower teeth connected, biting the assassin in two.

Before the Rampage Bear could feast on its victim, the poison finally took its toll. Claiming its victim, as the werebears heart lost the strength to keep beating. Reinhardt transformed back into a normal, albeit tall human. The limb, naked corpse lying next to Daga's two halves.

There had never been a moment for Sturm to find an opportunity to cast the lightning bolt he had been preparing his remaining will for. One moment, Sturm had been directing Reinhardt in cornering the assassin, and when they finally found success, everything ended in the blink of an eye.

Sturm approached Reinhardt's heavy body and heaved it over his shoulder, his knees crackling in response to the weight.

"We did it, Reinhardt! Hahaha, I knew we could do it. Edgar would be so proud of us! Come on, let me take you to the witch. With a bit of pressure, I am sure she will heal you!" Sturm told himself while carrying the Thunder Merchant's former guard captain's remains.

With blank, emotionless eyes and a forced smile on his face, the teenager walked back south towards the witch's hut, leaving behind the split body of a masked corpse in the middle of an area of flattened tents.

This marks the end of one thing, but worry not, as it will also mark the beginning of something else.

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