She ran at him, her knife held out in front of her. It was a short thing, better for cutting an apple than cutting a man. If he'd still had his thick fur coat on, Vol wouldn't have had to worry about it, but now he was reduced to his tunic, and the blade was more than capable of finding skin.
In a rare moment of battle lucidity, he had the sense to kick out at her as she came in close. He could have swung with his axe there and then, finishing her in one blow, but to do that would have been to waste all the effort he'd put into getting to this point. He'd once more be getting his clothes bloody – they were still too close to the counter.
His kick sent her petite frame across the room. She hit the way with a grunt, disorienting herself for a second. Vol was on her in a moment, before she could right herself, his axe came for her.
She looked at him, acknowledging her death as it came.
"Bastard," she cursed him.
Out of mercy, Vol killed her quickly, burying his axe in her skull.
!! SYSTEM ANNOUNCEMENT
NEW SKILL IN DEVELOPMENT: SKULL CRUSHER
THE VESSEL HAS DEVELOPED A FONDNESS FOR DELIVERING AN EXECUTIONER'S BLOW TO THE SKULL. WITH PRACTICE, IT GROWS EASIER TO FIND THE KILLING STRIKE. MASTERY 1/5
QUEST COMPLETE: A SINISTER SERIES
REWARDS DELIVERED:
+5 STRENGTH
-10 CHARISMA
He sighed, seeing the woman's body stiffen, as she slid down the wall. With his forearm, he wiped the blood from his face.
Now he'd really done it.
There was killing men in combat, then there was killing a fur trader for his goods… but at the other end of that, there was killing a woman. A true Yarmdon made no distinction between either of them. Whatever was in the way would be trampled. The weak were subject to the strong. Those were the old Yarmdon ways, back when they owned the western shores, and invaded the Stormfront so regularly the kingdom had been on the verge of collapse.
The new ways preached a milder sort of thing. A Stormfront honour. But what honour was to be had in following the ways of their enemy? From the instant he'd made the decision to kill the fur merchant, Vol had firmly declared what path he was on.
He had no loyalty to his people. Even his mother had forsaken him in the years before her death. "No son of mine is going to waste his worthless life on a warrior's profession. No son of mine! Do you hear me?" She screamed, the last that she'd spoken of her.
"Pah, your brother – don't even speak of him. Blessed they called him. That isn't a Blessing. He's as weak as the rest of them, obsessed with his wars."
Somehow, Vol knew, even his brother would have winced to see what he had done this day. Even if it was for the sake of survival, his hands were now firmly drenched in blood. There was no going back.
!! SYSTEM ACKNOWLEDGEMENT: THE VESSEL MADE THE CHOICE TO FOLLOW THE PATH TO STRENGTH. THE PATH TO STRENGTH IS ONE COATED IN BLOOD. JOK KILLED MANY WOMEN AND MANY CHILDREN UNDER HIS ORDERS, BLOODING HIS MEN, AND ALLOWING THEM THEIR LOOT. IT IS THE YARMDON WAY.
Yarmdon way though it might have been, Vol wished he hadn't had to do it. It wasn't enough to break him. His brother had always praised the strength of his will, even if he had never praised his intelligence. Strength and stubbornness were what made Vol, and now, apparently, it would be loneliness as well. He'd have to run again, from this town, and he'd have to do it that night.
His charisma had taken a nosedive as a result of killing the woman. The System had called it a Greater Quest. It had made the slaying of the two merchants into a series, and offered him greater rewards for it. Five whole strength points. It was an enormous boon. That was something to feel good about. That put him one step closer to his goal of slaying Oliver Patrick.
"Lydia," a voice called from outside. A hand reached in, pushing open the door. A strong Yarmdon man stepped in. "Going to need more of those—"
His words were cut off, as he lay his eyes on Vol, in the corner of the room, standing over Lydia's body, his axe covered in blood. He met the man's eyes. It was a warrior he was looking at. He could tell that in an instant. The man's thick build, the scar on his cheek, the sword at his hip, the cruel set of his jaw.
Vol was moving towards him before he could even react, his sword nearing the man's face, as Vol sought to add yet another body to his ever-growing list.
But suddenly, where there had previously been empty air, there was now a sword in its place. A high-pitched squeal rang out, as steel caught steel, and the man firmly held back the full strength of Vol's attack.
"Hoh…" The man said, his smile widening, revealing a mouth filled with several blackened teeth. "Look what I've walked in on. A cruel one, aren't we? What was this? A robbery?"
Vol separated from the man. He was hardly budging, even as Vol used his full strength to press against the man's guard. His strength was now at 49. It was an incredibly high stat, and yet, the swordsman held him in place without the slightest sign of panic.
!! SYSTEM ANNOUNCEMENT
BLESSED ENEMY DETECTED
VARSHARN'S BLESSING
ESTIMATED STRENGTH: ??? FUNCTION LOCKED
'Ah,' so that was it, Vol thought. Like his brother, this man was one of the Blessed. No wonder he wouldn't move, no wonder there was such a freakish aura streaming off him.
Vol rushed in again, sliced from the side with his axe. The man parried it even more easily this time. He allowed his blow to glide along the length of Vol's axe, until his elbow carried through, and ran straight into Vol's nose, drawing blood.