33. Meatcake (4)

The rain grew heavier. Like black tar it plagued the lands, channelling into the Styx River, destroying everything in its path. Trees fell as the earth shifted under the roots, rodents were torn out of their nests, and as the river flowed to the Gren household, it encircled the farm, trapping everyone on a deadly island.

Who was the real predator of this island? Was it Gren, who commanded flesh to strike Emma like waves of the salty sea? Or was it Emma, who struck back after every punch, quickly regaining her lost health points?

[ -1 HP, (-3 Mitigated!) ]

[ +3 HP ]

[ -2 HP (-1 Mitigated!) ]

[ +1 HP ]

It was a mad dance, yet also a frozen painting. No matter how they struck each other, things flowed back to a status quo. Despite that, neither participant cared for it. The sound of bones breaking, of flesh squashing, of blood churning… it brought them both satisfaction.

Every time Emma tore apart Gren’s raised meat wall, she commanded the torn-apart pieces together into an unconscious slime, launching at Emma like a giant punch.

“Yes, yes!” Emma howled as blood sprayed out of the meat. Gren could not help but grin uncontrollably. They were akin to animals in heat, but they lusted only for blood.

Axel watched on as the two fought each other, horrified. Although his companion fought well, it did not soothe his anxiety. Maybe even worsened it.

But as he watched on, something separated from the fight caught his attention. Despite the downpour, the ruins burned bright. There was a smell, and if one paid attention to it, the stench of alcohol became apparent, clawing at the lung. It was not just incredible, but also unbelievable, how the burning liquor resisted the rain.

“Have you noticed?” spoke an old voice, “It’s not natural.”

Axel’s swiftly turned around. In the doorframe was Gren’s grandfather, sitting in an amateurishly-made wooden wheelchair. Behind him stood Gren’s father closely.

“It’s my work, although I’m not too proud of it,” continued the old man, pushing his wheelchair closer to a burning plank. “It’s alcohol, one that is stronger than any natural. It burns and can remain burning for a while even underwater. A bit of rain means nothing to it.”

Axel was on high alert. Before then, he thought the old man must be senile, so he was quick to forget about him. Such an ancient-looking man should have been more cautious about the situation he was in.

He bent forward in his chair and reached out to the fire. Amazingly, when he laid a finger on the burning alcohol, its spark quickly ceased, and the thing fell apart as water.

The old man looked up at Axel and continued with a calm demeanour. “I was gifted with a talent in the school of alteration. Such a shame… I wanted to be a knight.”

“A knight should not raise his children to be fucking cannibals,” Axel struck back.

Gren’s father drew a short sword and charged forward to attack Axel, but the old man reached out his hand and stopped him. Gren’s father looked at him with wide eyes. He wanted to protest, but a command was a command.

The old man cleared his throat. “Perhaps you’ve been touched by my means of preparation. I must apologize. Surely, once provided with an explanation, you’ll understand the reasoning behind my methods.”

Axel gritted his teeth in anger. “I wouldn’t bet on that.”

Despite Axel’s clear hostility, the old man began to explain.

“Nightwood, Dawnroot, and Morningstone. These settlements surround the Yellow Mountain, which resides in the heart of the Sunbreak half-isle. There’s only one path out of it, and that’s through the passage of land that connects the Sunbreak peninsula to the main continent. Unfortunately, there is a problem with that…”

“There’s a city there, one that’s name I long forgot,” continued the old man, “Once in the past, I was allowed entrance there. It was a city of low importance, surviving off the minerals mined out in the isle. The city was well-off until the undead plague began. The mining companies packed their stuff and moved onto the main continent, due to safety reasons. Without them, the city would fall.”

“Thus, I and a group of others were approached by the leading noble of the city, begging us to buy the mines left unused. He said we could buy it at less than half-price, and get a ninety-percent discount on all taxes. Of course, it was a steal, so we accepted his deal. As it turned out, there were no rich mines when we arrived, but empty digs in the ground.”

“We were locked out of the city. Trying to enter was a suicide, the guards attacked us on sight. We were tricked, our money stolen, goods ceased. So, we began to plan revenge. The seven of us scattered through the half-island with a bet that whoever manages to break down the city’s gate gets to have the others’ riches and become their new ruler.”

Axel sighed. “Shut the fuck up,” he yelled, stopping the old man’s monologue, “If you don’t have an explanation, then don’t bore me with your shitty backstory!”

The old man grew a frown. Grabbing the side of his chair, he slowly pushed himself to a standing position, almost stumbling forward, but quickly regaining his footing. Gren’s father rushed beside him and offered him his walking stick.

The old man approached Axel. Due to his hunched back, he was a lot smaller, only reaching Axel’s chest. There, he looked up at the boy.

“I always wanted to be a wizard, but I was only granted talent in the school of alteration, the most useless and the weakest of all schools of magic. It could never break down the barrier of the city gate. However, it did not mean all was lost. Tell me, boy, did you ever read the Ancient Blades manual?”

“What manual…” but Axel stopped. His brain needed a moment to process it, and when it finally did, Axel’s body froze like an ice sculpture.

The NPC before him said the game’s name, and not just in a passing sentence, as an easter egg, or a meta-joke. No. The NPC mentioned the game, aware of the game, aware of his surroundings. It should have been impossible, given they were blind to only existing in a video game. The universe would not have allowed him to say that sentence. It should and would have been impossible.

But by now, Axel began to grasp the true form of the old man.

He and the other the six from his tale, the others trapped on the Sunbreak half-isle were not NPCs, but Players, just like Axel himself.

An incredible, mind-boggling reveal. Axel could barely regain control over himself, mumbling aimlessly, while the old man continued.

“It states that when two mages have a child, that child will inherit the magical school of only one parent, but the magical power of both. I had the power of a strong mage, however, my school of magic was insufficient to break down the city gate myself, so…”

“You found someone with an offensive magic school to breed with,” Axel finished his sentence. He was right, prompting a smile from the old man.

“Indeed. A minor enemy from one of the dungeons, a novice hemomancer.”

“That still doesn’t explain shit,” Axel responded, “You cannot have children with NPCs in Ancient Blades.”

The old man’s smile turned into a grin. Then that grin into a laugh. He let go of the walking stick and reached out with his arms, like a phoenix as it rebirths from the fire.

“I can! I made an exchange with the woman from my dreams, and she granted me the power of making children with Non-Playable Characters! I used to be a failure, a virgin at thirty-five, but look at me now! I bred powerful mages, then bred even more powerful ones with their children, throwing the useless ones underground, until I finally had what I was looking for: Gren! The perfect hemomancer, the epitome of all mages! With her, no one can stand in my way!”

The old man laughed and laughed, until suddenly…

Something felt wrong. He could not put his finger on it at first until he looked down and saw an old rusty blade sticking out from his stomach. Axel was on the other end of that blade, staring the old man in the eye.

“Ew,” answered Axel to the old man’s monologue.

“H-How could you…” The old man coughed up blood.

“What, you thought I won't stab you just because you are talking? Of course, you did. You’re just another insufferable asshole suffering from main character syndrome.” Axel pulled away his blade and let the old man fall to the ground. “Bleed out in the mud. I don’t care.”

The old man fell into a pile of wet dirt. His fall made mud splash out, hitting Axel’s cheeks. He brushed it off, then watched on as the old man trembled from shock.

When he first revealed he was a human too, Axel felt shocked, then happy. It meant he was not alone and maybe, just maybe, the others might know something about this world.

Why were they here? How did they even end up here? Is there an exit? Or is this the afterlife?

Many questions flashed through Axel’s mind, but one made him snap out of his thoughts.

It was Nyeander’s crying face. Her shaky voice as she described the horrors of the basement and her absolute terror when she realized, they might end up like those people. How she begged Axel to stay or let her flee with him.

Those images released something in his body, something special that entered his heart and flowed through his veins, burning his muscles and skin, urging him to act.

It was not just anger, but wrath. He needed to take revenge on the man who made her cry. He could not live a second more with that man alive.

Thus, he acted and drove the blade into the old man without mercy or thought.

This act did not come without its consequences, however. Gren’s father drew his short sword and charged Axel while howling a battle cry.

Axel snapped out of his rage a bit too late, and when he noticed Gren’s father, he was already too close. No matter how would he block, he could not parry the sword’s full strength, and Gren’s father could easily leave a deep wound on him.

But he did not. Not because he hesitated, nor because Axel had a plan in mind.

At that moment, on the other side of the battlefield, as Emma struck apart another of Gren’s meat walls…

“Shit!” Gren thought to herself, “My Mana is quickly depleting, but she shows no signs of getting exhausted! If this goes on…”

Before she could have finished her thought, Emma cut her off with a grin.

“…she will outpower me?” spoke Emma.

Gren’s eyes widened. He tried to hide her shock behind a frown, but it was useless.

“I know exactly what you are thinking about; we are both adept magic users. Our mana will deplete eventually. Yours in a few minutes, but mine… as a half-elf, I can keep this up for days.”

Gren growled, trying her best to intimidate Emma, but to no avail. She was right and they both knew.

Still, Gren had a last trick up her sleeve. She grinned and mockingly chuckled.

“True, your mana far surpasses mine. However, my magic capabilities are far superior. All I need is a strong burst of overflowing mana to tip the scales of this battle.”

Emma could not comprehend what she meant. So, Gren showed it to her.

“My win will be decisive.”

At that moment, she reached out towards her father, just as he was about to strike Axel. The man’s arms flew away from Axel, his joints broke apart, and his limbs contorted behind his back. His meat bulged, his eyes popped out, until suddenly, he exploded into a mess of meat, blood pouring out of his remains.

She commanded the meat pile closer, drew it above her head, and opened her mouth, letting the blood rain straight into her stomach.

The others stared at her in utter disbelief. Without the slightest hesitation, she executed her father just to regain her power.

And she did. She discarded the meat in the mud when it was depleted of blood. Her eyes were glowing red. Her heartbeat was so strong, they heard it.

Biting down on her wrist, she tore open her veins. Blood came out gushing, but before it could hit the earth, it froze, taking the form of a razor-sharp blade.

Gren observed her creation, proudly smiling. She practiced it for a moment, slicing the blade through the air. It was so sharp, there was almost no resistance from the air, and the blade moved so quickly, it appeared to teleport.

Finally, Gren locked eyes on Emma, and her smile grew sinister.

“Let’s end this!”