"So, the kids told me that you saved them from some cultists…" His sharp golden eyes shimmered, "Why would a demon like you save them?"
Asura's face twisted at the familiar term. "Look here, ya old fart," he growled, "You may be scary, but you and your kids keep using that racist term. Y'all throw that shitty term around like it's nothin'. I'm an ogre. Say it with me, ya old fart. An O-gre."
The old man winced at the language. "Alright, I'll stop calling you a demon if you stop with the foul language."
Asura leaned back, satisfied with the terms. "Alright, alright, you got yourself a deal, old man."
"Now that we've settled that," the old man continued, "we can return to my question. Why did you save them?"
"I don't know," Asura shrugged. "I don't eat humans. Especially children. I'm a fighter. I fight stuff. Can't fight a little kid, ya know? It's pretty one-sided. Like beating up a puppy."
"Four kids were missing," the old man pressed. "You brought back three. What happened to the fourth?"
Asura's face fell, and he averted his gaze. He scratched the back of his head, a nervous gesture. "I ain't no liar, so… They used him to summon me."
The old man's gaze intensified, his golden eyes burning into Asura as the pressure weighed against his skull. Asura shifted uncomfortably, feeling increasingly anxious under the scrutiny. The old man's voice remained calm, but Asura sensed a growing rage simmering beneath the surface.
"And what did you do?"
"I killed them…" Asura hesitated, catching himself. "fu-…the idiots who summoned me. I snapped their necks. I don't like messing with children. They ain't rotten yet, ya know? I, uh, wanted to save them, so I brought them here." The ogre folded his hands, rubbing them anxiously.
"Look, I'm sorry about their friend, but I didn't ask them to summon me. Now I'm here, and well, I don't know what to do. Never been summoned before. A new experience I can add to my resume… If I knew what those were."
"You've never been summoned from a monster realm before?" the old man questioned, his voice with a hint of disbelief.
"Nope."
"How did you enter the cathedral?"
The question left Asura speechless, concerned about whether it was a trick.
"I walked in?" He hesitantly answered.
The old man was perplexed. This monster claimed to be an ogre, a creature thought to be nearly extinct. Yet, one was sitting before him, relatively passive, even helpful. The stories he had heard about ogres painted a different picture: bloodthirsty, uncontrollable forces of chaos driven by an insatiable hunger for living flesh. Asura's story seemed almost too incredible.
"...So, you're fine with killing humans but not eating them?"
"Yup," Asura replied, then paused. "Wait… You might be taking that the wrong way…"
"Got a problem with killing other monsters?" the old man pressed.
Asura scratched his head, unsure where this line of questioning was leading. "Nope, 'cause most of 'em are d—" He stopped, remembering his promise to refrain from foul language.
The old man sighed, glancing out the window. "Well, from now on, you're under my supervision. You do not leave this place without my permission. You'll stay here and fight monsters for me, understand?"
Asura's brow furrowed in confusion. "Alright, what? What do you mean I gotta stay here?"
Their eyes met, and the fire in the old man's gaze intensified. This time, the old man's gaze held a new intensity. His eyes seemed to search beyond the surface, seeking something deeper within Asura, perhaps judging the core of who he was.
The air in the room grew heavy, weighing upon Asura's chest and making it difficult to breathe. As the temperature rose, his lungs burned, and he felt like he was boiling from the inside out.
He collapsed to the floor, struggling against an invisible force that pressed down on him with the weight of an anvil. The old man's holy mana flooded the room, an oppressive presence in every corner. Asura fought to push himself up just enough to meet the old man's gaze.
The old man briefly withdrew his mana, offering Asura a choice. "I can kill you at any moment," he stated calmly. "You're a monster; I simply cannot let you roam free. Who knows what you might do?" He asked with uncertainty and continued. "But I'll offer you a deal. You stay here, and I'll ensure you don't get into trouble with the other cathedrals. You saw how everyone reacted to you. You also mentioned that you're a fighter. You love to fight. Why not fight monsters?" He paused.
"All you have to do is fight cultists and monsters for me, and I'll give you the freedom to move around after you prove yourself." His golden, shining eyes darkened, "Otherwise, I'll kill you right here."
Asura coughed, gasping for air as he clutched his throat. The mana had scorched his soft flesh inside. "You make a compelling argument, old man," he rasped. "I think I'd rather live."
"Good choice," the old man nodded. "Thanks for saving the kids."
Asura managed a weak smile before collapsing unconscious, his body overwhelmed by the exertion and the oppressive weight of the old man's mana.
Time flew in a blur of chaos. One moment, Asura was locked in a battle of wills with the old man, his body succumbing to the overwhelming pressure of mana. The next, he found himself jolting awake, his heart pounding against his ribs.
He nervously looked around as sweat dripped from his forehead, expecting to be chained and tortured, but instead, he found himself lying on a soft bed. The ogre tried to sit up, but pain shot through his body, forcing him back down. His muscles were stiff and aching, and he groaned, shifting uncomfortably.
He looked around the spacious room. Several rows of beds, each accompanied by medical equipment, were sectioned off by curtains. The room reminded him of a hospital, though he had only seen those on television. Humans are interesting, he mused, watching the IV drip nearby. Lost in his observations, he did not notice the figure standing silently in the shadows.
"Finally awake, sleepyhead?" a voice cut through the silence.
Asura's heart leaped into his throat. He scrambled back, gripping the bed with all four arms as he turned towards the voice. It was the woman named Mel.
"Holy shit… where'd you come from?" He stammered out.
"I've been sitting here the whole time," she replied dryly. "And you might want to watch your language, or the old man will have your hide… Actually, that might not be such a bad thing. Carry on."
Asura waved her words away. "Ehhhh… Whatever. How'd I get here?"
Mel rolled her eyes. "Me and Ash lugged your unconscious body over here after you passed out in the old man's office," she said, her tone mocking him as if he were a toddler. "I don't understand why we haven't just killed you yet, but clearly, the old man has some use for you. Personally, I couldn't care less. I'd rather just put a bullet in your skull."
She stood, leaning closer as she drew her pistol. Asura felt the cold steel pressed against his temple. "I don't know why my bullets didn't kill you last time," she hissed, "but if you hurt anyone or try anything stupid, I'll blow a hole in that demon skull of yours."
Asura's irritation flared. "Still with the racist remarks, huh?" he grumbled, crossing his upper arms while pointing with his lower two. "Alright, alright, I get it. Quit nagging me, mom."
He tried to stand, but a groan escaped his lips as pain shot through his body. After struggling for a second, he finally managed to reach his feet just as Mel turned to leave.
"Oh, and the old man wants to see you in the training room," she said, pausing at the door. "And put on some clean clothes. There's some on the table."
"If you try to run, you'll drop dead before you make it out of the building." Mel turned and shot her final glare as she departed.
With little care to Mel's threat, Asura glanced down at his clothes, which were practically in tatters. Bullet holes and sword slashes had reduced them to a few strips of cloth. I look homeless, he thought with a grimace.
"I kind of liked that hoodie, assholes," he grumbled.
A black and white jacket, reminiscent of a varsity style with its collar and cuffs, lay on the table, the Judex symbol stitched on its shoulder. Underneath the jacket, he found a dark blue T-shirt and black cargo pants. A sigh escaped him. No sweatpants. He dressed quickly but struggled as he put on the shirt.
"Why can't you guys be more inclusive?" he muttered as he ripped two holes in the jacket so that his lower two arms would fit through. Then, he grabbed the jacket, preemptively ripping holes before slipping it on.
As he left the room, he could not help but notice the cathedral's lavish use of gold. The door had an intricately engraved golden frame, and golden trim adorned the walls, with a few decorative pieces scattered throughout. Even the candlestick holders were made of gold. He found their continued use of candles odd as they flickered. Did they blow their entire budget on gold and couldn't afford electricity?
The cathedral walls were adorned with scriptures and carvings depicting the stories of Judex's creations. Asura recognized the stories, as they were also common in his realm. Do they think we just don't believe in God or something? He scoffed internally. He created us, too, dummies.
Asura started towards the door Mel had used, intending to follow her to the training room, but stopped short.
"Wait, how am I supposed to know where the hell the training room is?" he mumbled, scratching his head.
After thirty minutes of navigating the labyrinth-like hallways and opening countless doors, Asura stumbled upon the training room. The vast chamber stretched before him, nearly half the size of a football field. Its towering walls soared high, leaving ample space above. Golden runes were carved into the stone, shimmering faintly as if an enchantment had been woven into the foundation.
As he stepped inside, his bare feet met the cool stone floor, each step echoing through the empty space, announcing his arrival.
Weapons lined the right wall, but the rest of the room was bare. The old man stood in the center, overseeing a sparring match between Mel and Ash. Asura could not distinguish their words from this distance, but he noticed the old man waving him over.
"Over here," the old man's voice boomed across the room. "Stand next to Mel and Ash."
Ash shot Asura a venomous glare before turning back to the old man. "What took you so long?" Mel asked, her eyes exasperated and her tone laced with annoyance.
"How the fu—" Asura began, but the old man's expression darkened, cutting him off. The ogre scurried behind Ash, seeking refuge from potential retribution. Ash, however, shoved him away, attempting to shake off the ogre like a pest that clung tightly. He quickly regretted his decision as Asura retaliated with a swift kick to the ankle.
Ash yelped, stumbling onto one leg as he clutched his injured ankle. Asura was ready to continue his playful torment, but the old man's stern gaze stopped him.
"I mean, how am I supposed to know where the training room is, moron?" Asura retorted, glaring at Mel. "I don't live here. You're the idiot who left a monster roaming around the place anyway. How do you know I won't run away or kill anyone here?"
Before Mel could respond, the old man interjected. "Don't worry, we'll always have eyes on you. An engraving on your chest lets us know what you're doing and where you are. It will also cause you great pain if you try to harm a civilian."
Asura pulled up his shirt and saw a new tattoo on his chest: a circle of intertwined flowers surrounding a runic symbol he did not recognize.
"What the? WHAT THE HELL DID YOU DO TO ME?!" he exclaimed, feeling violated.
The old man shrugged. "Like you said, you're a monster, and we have no clue what you're capable of. It's not a permanent tattoo, more like a sticker you can't remove."
His eyes lingered on the glowing inscription on Asura's chest, a hint of pride in his gaze. "For now," he said, his voice firm, "it stays. But prove yourself useful, and I might consider removing it. Of course," he added, a glint of amusement in his eyes, "I could just kill you instead. But you seem to enjoy a good fight, so I'm offering you an alternative." He turned and gestured towards the wall lined with weapons. "Help us, and I'll help you."
The old man walked towards the wall lined with weapons. "We'll be testing your capabilities today," he announced over his shoulder. "You'll fight Ash first, then Mel. This room regenerates and repairs itself, so don't hold back."
Asura threw his hands up in exasperation. "Is this how you treat your patients?" he exclaimed, an eyebrow arched in disbelief. "I just woke up!"
"You're fine," the old man replied. "I checked you over in the infirmary. You have no wounds." He gestured around the room. "Rooms like these in cathedrals are enchanted and designed for combat training. They're built with metal rods engraved with holy runes and enchanted by Arch Knights. It takes a lot of holy mana, but once complete, a healing field is established throughout the room."
He indicated the towering pillars that ringed the training ground. "See those runes etched into the pillars? They're infused with holy mana, focused on healing. Any wounds you inflict will be mended, and exhaustion will be soothed. So, don't hesitate to unleash your full strength." His voice was blunt, as if pain was an afterthought. "However," he cautioned, "the pain will linger. A valuable lesson for all involved, wouldn't you agree?"
"So you guys are immortal in this room?" Asura asked with a furrowed brow.
"No, natural causes cannot be prevented." The old man turned his attention to the Ash. "Ash, are you prepared to test our new trainee?"
"Now, wait a minute. We don't even know if this place will heal me. I'm a monster, remember? I'm a bit different than you a-...people." Asura crossed his four arms as he studied the pillars, humming with holy mana.
You're right. But either way, you'll die, won't you? Refuse to fight, and the deal is off." His tone was matter-of-fact, leaving no room for argument.
"What, are you afraid of dying?" A cruel smile twisted Ash's lips, indicating his eagerness to fight. Asura, however, was baffled by his confidence. Their last encounter had not exactly gone Ash's way. If he wants a rematch, Asura thought, his anger rising, "I'll make sure he regrets it." That smug grin on Ash's face was infuriating to the ogre. Asura wanted to wipe it off and crush his pride like an insect in his palm.
Ash drew his sword, the polished steel gleaming under the cathedral's lights. Seemingly less enthusiastic about the impending brawl, Mel sauntered to the sidelines, popping a piece of gum in her mouth as she joined the old man. "This'll be fun," she muttered, her gaze fixed on the two combatants.
"What, you scared, shorty?" Ash taunted.
"Oi, who you calling shorty?" Asura bristled. "Just because I'm not a beanpole doesn't mean I'm short. I'm average height. And I've never been afraid of a fight. I've fu-… killed more monsters than you've probably seen in your whole career."
"It's like a chihuahua barking constantly," Ash sneered. "Small but feisty."
Asura's anger surged. He slammed his fists together, the impact echoing like thunder through the chamber. "I'mma have fun beating that smug look off your face, soy boy."
Ash slid two fingers across his onyx blade, chanting, "Judex Divinum strengthens those who follow the light. Through Hephestine, the dullest blades become sharp."
Holy mana surged into the black blade, creating a radiating aura from the swirling wild mana inside. The shining blade appeared impressive, but Asura would never admit it. It galled him that Ash could wield such magic while he could not. Suddenly, flames erupted from the sword, engulfing it in a golden blaze. Ash held the flaming blade aloft, pointing it towards Asura with a triumphant grin.
What's he gonna do with that, light a campfire?" Asura scoffed inwardly. If he thinks heating up his blade will make it easier to cut me, he's gonna find out quickly how stupid he is. Ogres live with fire. Holy mana ain't gonna strike me down. Ever been breathed on by a red dragon? That shit burns.
The old man gave Mel a nod. She sighed, drawing one of her pistols and aiming it at the ceiling. If this ogre dies, she thought, maybe things can return to normal. "Please, Ash, just kill him," she muttered under her breath before pulling the trigger. The gunshot echoed through the chamber, signaling the start of the fight.