[Book 1] Ferocity

Immanuel crashed on his back with a massive thud. Immediately after he fell, the back of his head bounced on the marble floor. Something cracked, perhaps his skull, and the world seemed to have spun faster in Immanuel’s point of view than when the humanoid monster slashed his head with a set of long front claws.

Somehow, despite the power packed by the creature’s claw attack, Immanuel’s fighting instincts still kicked in. He could have rolled away to escape an incoming downward claw attack, but he raised his sword and blocked the attack with his scabbard. And then he rolled away, swinging the sword in its scabbard to push against the attack.

He rose to crouching position, and when he achieved a solid footing, Immanuel drew his two-handed sword and slashed upwards from floor level. It hit nothing, but it deterred the humanoid monster from attacking him at that moment, giving him time to get up fully.

When he had fully risen, Immanuel tossed the scabbard at the creature like a spear, in a display of boldness and recklessness. The improvised spear hit the humanoid creature's head so hard he stunned it. With Immanuel not expecting the creature to fight back at that moment, he charged, both hands gripping the sword.

Immanuel closed in with a downward swing. Just as it was about to hit, the still-stunned humanoid creature somehow managed to sway out of it and parry it with a backhanded movement of a set of its claws at the same time.

Immanuel spun, following the momentum created by the monster’s parry. Even as he turned towards nothing, he still did a downward slash, perhaps making sure no opportunist would have a chance to strike at him.

It also was a way to reposition his sword in preparation for another attack. He turned another time to complete the spin, and as he turned, he executed an upward swing. The attack tore through the creature’s belly, chest, and neck, forcing it to back away with a pained screech.

With the creature’s blood and guts spilling onto the floor and onto Immanuel, he stepped to one side, intending to avoid stepping on the carnage as he rushed forward. Once the creature was within reach of his lengthy weapon, he stabbed its neck. And just to ensure the kill, Immanuel pushed the blade all the way through and pulled back. The creature let out a gasp as it fell motionless.

Immanuel’s fighting prowess against a monstrous humanoid creature astonished the human onlookers so much that, even with their weapons drawn, and even if they could move forward and attack in coordination with each other, they were all stuck where they stood–sweaty, jaws dropped, eyes widened, and legs shaking.

Immanuel’s piercing gaze towards the soldiers was much like a ranged attack–they all crashed on the floor together when they saw it. Then he followed through on his threat and charged at the soldiers flopping around on the floor, struggling to regain their footing.

The sight of a fighter bathed in the blood and guts of a humanoid monster he had just killed must have motivated one soldier enough that he was about to regain his footing as Immanuel was halfway towards him and his comrades. At this, Immanuel leapt towards the armed men, the grip of his two-handed sword adjusted for a downward thrust. He landed and stabbed the abdomen of a soldier who was still on the floor, killing him instantly and ending his struggle to get up and fight.

The soldiers on either side of Immanuel raised their swords to swinging positions. Seeing this, Immanuel sprung back, causing their swords to clash when they swung at him.

Seizing a perceived advantage, the soldier who regained his footing the fastest charged at Immanuel, mimicking the same way he charged at them. In response, Immanuel dug through a pouch and launched a throwing dagger at him. It hit his neck, stopping him in his tracks and knocking him out for good. Immanuel then launched another dagger, then a third, then a fourth, until he had killed every soldier that had come for him.

With the end of the hostilities, Immanuel crashed down to the floor, lying on his back with arms spread out to catch his breath.

“You fight well, man in the white mask, but I’m afraid they won’t be the last ones you’ll face.”

A woman dressed in combat tights walked into view of Immanuel and pointed a rapier at his neck. Her gray hair and wrinkled face were testament to how long she had been living, and how she dressed and the way she held her rapier as she pointed it at Immanuel seemed to be testaments to her fighting experience.

Instantly perceiving the threat, Immanuel growled and raised his sword. After a pause, and seeing that the woman did not set the rapier blade aside, he then used the blade of his two-handed sword to swipe away the rapier.

“So you wish to fight. Very well!” said the woman as she backed away from Immanuel to a distance out of reach of melee weapons. While she backed away, she put her guard up the entire time. “Then stand up! If you wish to fight a baroness, at the very least, stand on solid ground!”

Immanuel issued no response as he rolled up to a crouch while growling at the woman who claimed to be a baroness.

“Re–” Immanuel launched a throwing dagger at the baroness, who had no problem blocking it with the rapier.

She snorted. “How unclassy of you!” But rather than stop, Immanuel tossed another dagger, then another, and another… not stopping for a while despite the baroness’s effortless blocking of each projectile with her rapier.

“Come, fighter. You can do better than that. I’ll wait.”

Immanuel charged towards the baroness with a feral roar. When he reached striking range, he swung. The baroness leapt back to put herself out of reach of the two-handed sword, and she saw that with the way he swung, he was intent on breaking her guard and killing her in one blow.

“Are you sure you’d want to try that again?”

Immanuel answered with a feral roar as he charged at the baroness once again, sword positioned for another wild swing. But rather than dodge the attack, the baroness’s footwork brought her in striking range of her rapier faster than Immanuel could bring himself to within striking range of his longer greatsword. Immanuel flinched at the sudden movement of the baroness, and she thrust her rapier, grazing a good chunk of Immanuel’s neck. She stayed within striking range after that strike, having gained the upper hand.

“Consider that my final warning.” Immanuel grasped his neck as he backed away. But rather than take heed of the baroness’s statement, he breathed deeper and faster, and even with his face hidden behind a featureless white mask, it was clear to the baroness that she had angered him.

The baroness raised an eyebrow in confusion and annoyance. Then she moved like a flash of lightning, disappearing from where she stood and reappearing in front of Immanuel, who jumped in astonishment. But rather than attack, she dropped her guard and punched Immanuel’s guts, knocking the wind out of him and doubling him over.

“What the fuck…” Immanuel hissed, still doubled over. Then he rose to full height, wanting to retaliate. “... was that for?!”

The anger in his eyes shifted to fear brought about by the knowledge of who he was facing. “Wha… wha… why di…” Immanuel stammered.

“Are you not aware of who this is who stands before you? And are you not aware that you had just tried to kill me?” the baroness asked, eyebrows furrowed. Immanuel backed away, looking around him in fear of retaliation from her personal guards.

“I did what? I… Impossible! I do not wish to kill you, My Lady.” He hoped that the proper address of the baroness would persuade her to believe him. But as he looked at his drawn sword and the blood running along the blade and his arm, it seemed unlikely, and he dropped the two-handed sword in disgust and regret. I should have just sent a letter requesting an audience! If only these folks aren’t so out of reach I would not have had to resort to this!

“Impossible? So why sneak in here with such weapons?” She pointed to the fallen soldiers, and Immanuel understood that she was referring to his throwing knives. “Not to mention that you have done everything you could, all in the name of getting to where we stand now.”

Immanuel ran out of options. He dropped to his knees and planted his masked face on the floor. But, wanting to be more respectful to the baroness, he took his mask off and set it aside. “My Lady, what I say is true. I have not come here to kill you,” Immanuel began. “I have snuck into the very seat of Ironthorne’s power, bringing with me weapons to defend myself. I need an audience at the earliest possible time because of a grave problem I am facing.”

There was a pause, but Immanuel kept his head down on the floor. “It was never in my mind to fight you, I swear! I must have…” Immanuel paused again as he tried to remember a number of details. “… acted out of instinct, having lost control of myself after my head hit the floor.”

Then Immanuel showed a different face to the baroness–a gentle-faced lad who looked contrary to how he fought. “I was one of the men on the mission to kill Baron Nigel Ironhelm months ago. It would never come across my mind to kill you. Please help me.”

–

Soldiers moved around, clearing out the dead bodies and what remained of the marble statues. When they finished, the soldiers stepped out of the manor interior, and the baroness then led Immanuel back downstairs. They sat across from each other on two separate luxurious soft seats at the reception area. Immanuel kept the appearance he showed the whole time they spoke, but he introduced himself as Immanuel Maier to the baroness, whose name was Helene Blackwell.

“So, to put all of this down in a handful of words, your problem is with your wife, who was taken from you?” Baroness Blackwell nodded in understanding.

“It is. And she was taken from me by means of a complex scheme that I have no way of counteracting against.”

“Then how do you think I can help you with it?”

Immanuel leaned forward. “I’m here to ask your help in getting an audience with a Hierophant. I have questions about my present situation that I think only a cleric with such a rank can answer.”

“I figured that was your intent for coming here. Very well.” She then looked around the reception and frowned at the sight of dust that the soldiers had not cleaned up.

“I’ll find a way to pay–”

Baroness Blackwell put up a hand to interrupt Immanuel. “I thought about it earlier, but I believe that won’t be necessary. You helped place me in this position of power, and I’m returning the favor.”