As we walked, questions swarmed in my mind about how I had ended up in Drachma, especially if I was aiming for Shin. The desert had led me astray, and now I was among this motley band of bandits whose intentions were still unclear. At that moment I had accepted my fate - there was little I could do about it now.
- Garrick," I began, trying to keep my tone casual, "what can you tell me about Drachma? I've heard some things, but I'd like to know more about how things work in this land."
Hearing my question, he perked up, and pride flashed in his eyes. - Oh, curious traveler! Well, let me enlighten you. Drachma is a land of strength and cunning. Our people value those who can stand up for themselves, and the strongest often succeed."
I nodded, encouraging him to continue. "What about the cities? Are there any worth visiting?"
"Absolutely! The capital, Avernus, is a bustling center of trade and conflict," Garrick explained, gesturing animatedly. - Here you'll find the best markets, but also the fiercest rivalries. If you can survive there, you can survive anywhere.
I made mental notes, noting names and details. "And what do you trade?"
"Everything! From rare minerals to livestock. We are also known for our exceptional weapons and armor made by the finest blacksmiths in the country," he replied with obvious pride in his voice. "There's also a slave market - where they trade you-know-who and what."
His companions laughed, adding their comments about the "underground" trade, hints of smuggling and other dubious enterprises woven into their chatter. I memorized this information, forming a clearer picture of this strange country.
As we walked, I began to realize their true intentions. Although outwardly Garrick and his crew were friendly enough, I could sense an underlying tension in them, as if they were testing my character. I could feel their gazes sliding over the sword at my side, assessing whether I was a threat or valuable.
"In Drachma, it is wise to carry a sword with you. But it's not the sword that makes a man a man, it's how you wield it that matters. We're just wondering if you can stand up for yourself.
"Okay," I said, keeping a neutral expression on my face. "What if I can?"
- Then you might find a place among us," Garrick replied with a touch of challenge in his voice. - But don't think we'll be lenient with you.
I raised an eyebrow intrigued. 'So, is this a test, then?
"Something like that," he admitted, and the others nodded in agreement. "You see, we're always looking for capable hands. If you can navigate these lands, you'll find that we can be... profitable allies."
I pondered their offer for a while. Although the prospect of joining this band of misfits was tempting, I had to remain cautious. They were sizing me up just as I was gathering information.
As we continued our journey through the dense forest, Garrick's words painted a vivid picture of Drachma. "You know, most of our territory is covered in snow," he said, and there was a mixture of pride and misgiving in his voice. - It's cold and unforgiving here, a true test of survival. It may seem pleasant here on the outskirts, but look deeper and you see a country where there is no mercy. Those who can't stand up for themselves? Well, they face either death or slavery."
His words hung heavy in the air, and I felt a chill run down my spine, even though the weather here was warm. It became clear that strength and cunning were not just valued-they were essential for survival. I had gathered enough information; it was time to end this farce.
Suddenly I stopped and turned to face them. - So, are you all going to attack me as a group, or are we going to settle this in a duel? - My voice sounded steady, and I met their curious gazes without flinching.
The bandits looked at each other, the surprise on their faces replaced by amusement. Laughter erupted among them, a cacophony of mirth echoing through the trees. Garrick shouted the loudest, his stomach shaking with laughter as he leaned against the nearest tree to keep from falling.
"Ha! That's the first time anyone's ever asked us so bluntly about it! - He wheezed, wiping tears from his eyes. - You have courage, I must give you credit for that! But you should know that in this world, when it comes to a decisive fight, it's always about one thing: life or death!"
The others joined him, some patting themselves on the knees, others shaking their heads incredulously. One of them, a wiry man with a scruffy beard, added: "One would have to be either crazy or brave to ask such a question! But I like your style!"
I stood firm, my expression impenetrable, watching the amusement slowly fade away and be replaced by seriousness. Garrick straightened up, finally catching his breath. - Look, newcomer, we appreciate your candor. But let's be clear: if anything, we're not fighting fair. Drachma is not a place for fair fights, it's survival of the fittest. So you'd better be ready for anything."
"Then I'll keep that in mind," I replied in an even voice. "Just know that I'm not here to be a victim."
The moment my words hung in the air, we all drew our weapons. Steel glinted ominously in the patches of sunlight filtering through the trees. Tension crackled like static discharges, an electric anticipation hung over us as we sized each other up.
Suddenly the silence was broken as they rushed to attack, in a wild frenzy of movement and aggression. I barely had time to react before the first of them lunged at me, a glittering dagger slicing the air. I instinctively stepped aside, adrenaline surging as I narrowly avoided the blade, feeling a gust of air as it whistled past my face. But I didn't have time to catch my breath. The other bandit swung his sword, and the blade flew toward me with terrifying speed. I ducked as I felt the weapon whistle over my head, but my lack of experience gave me away. The third attacker was already on top of me, lunging his weapon forward furiously. I jerked back, barely dodging again, my heart pounding in my chest like a war drum.
The forest became a chaotic blur as I ducked and dodged, desperately trying to dodge their relentless onslaught. They moved like a pack, all skilled and coordinated, and I quickly realized that they had me outmatched. Swinging my sword furiously, I tried to increase the distance between us, but their expertise was evident. They moved in sync, cutting off my escape routes and leaving me no choice but to keep dodging.
In the heat of battle, I felt the steel digging into my skin. The dagger grazed my arm, and I flinched as the blood flowed, bright red against the pale background of my skin. And yet, as the wound throbbed, something strange began to happen. I blinked, unable to believe my eyes, watching the cut heal before my eyes and the flesh heal as if it had no wounds at all. The only evidence of the attack was the dark stain spreading across my clothes. More wounds followed, a blade to the side, another cut on my leg, but each time my body seemed to react with supernatural resilience. Blood flowed freely, pooling on the ground, but the pain was fleeting, the wounds disappearing before I could fully realize them. It was as if my body was resisting the violence directed at me.
The bandits were relentless, their screams echoing off the trees, taunting me as they got their way. "You won't be able to gorge yourself forever!" - laughed one of them, a vicious gleam in his eyes as he aimed a kick at my head.
I ducked again, rolled to the side, and narrowly avoided being hit. The ground beneath me was covered with fallen leaves, which obscured my movements as I rose to my feet. It was chaos - steel clanking against steel, the forest coming alive with the sounds of our fight. At that moment a wave of instinctive rage rose in me. I felt a primal urge to survive, to fight back against these attackers who sought to end me. I swung my sword with newfound determination, taking one of them by surprise. The blade struck the target, and I felt the satisfaction of having struck a blow. But the respite was short-lived; they were still many against one. I could see the determination in their eyes, the excitement of the hunt that moved them. They drew closer, the air was saturated with the smell of sweat and blood, each second taking forever.
As I continued to dodge their blows, I realized that my healing abilities weren't just a fad-they were my lifeline. The very process of battle seemed to awaken something in me, a deep source of power I didn't yet understand. Each disappearing wound fueled my resolve, stoking the fire of my defiance.
- Is that all you've got? - I shouted, surprising even myself with the fury in my voice. - You need to try harder!
The bandits hesitated for a moment, confusion in their eyes. And in that moment, I felt the situation begin to change. I was no longer just a victim-I was a force to be reckoned with.
Despite my lack of combat experience, I felt my resolve flare up. Yes, they were stronger, faster, and outnumbered, but I had something they didn't - my regeneration. It was time to test the limits of this newfound ability.
As they lunged at me again, I let one of the bandits strike. The blade split my shoulder, the pain flared for a moment, then disappeared as the wound healed itself and the skin healed back together seamlessly. The bandits hesitated, confusion flashing in their eyes, but I continued to insist, determined to push past the limits of what I could endure.
With each blow, I could feel my body adjusting. I entered the fray, visualizing myself as the target. One dagger slashed across my chest, another grazed my thigh, and I rejoiced in the pain. Each cut fueled my curiosity about my own capabilities. I could feel their confidence growing as they struck, thinking they had the upper hand.
Then came the moment I had been waiting for. I raised my unarmed hand, showing it to one of the bandits. - Come on," I challenged, the words tumbling from my lips before I could change my mind.
The bandit, caught off guard for a moment, then swung his sword. The blade neatly severed my arm, blood oozing from the stump, and the bandits froze in disbelief. For a moment there was silence.
And then, as if contrary to their expectations, my severed arm began to shimmer and crumble into fine dust, scattering into the air like ash. The bandits gasped in shock, eyes wide as they saw the impossible.
I felt a tingling sensation emanate from my wrist, heat spreading through my bones, which began to regenerate. It was as if the universe itself was rewriting reality, piecing together the very essence of my being. Nerves and tendons intertwined, muscles fell into place, and finally skin covered the restored limb.
The amazed expressions on the bandits' faces were priceless. I flexed my newly restored arm, feeling the strength return with each movement. "Surprised? - I asked, and a smile spread across my face. - I thought I could give you a show.
There was a tension in the air; my bravado had made them insecure. They had come to test me, but now they were being tested. Their confidence cracked, and the excitement of the hunt was replaced by fear of the unknown.
"Let's see if you can handle it!" I shouted, suddenly rushing forward. The course of the battle changed, and I felt the balance of power tilt in my favor. I was no longer just a target; I was a rival hunter, and they were my prey to experiment on.
When I engaged them again, they hesitated, and I saw a flicker of doubt in their eyes. With every swing of my sword, I sought to exploit their fear, pushing them back, testing the limits of my newfound power. Each cut they inflicted was accompanied by an exhilarating healing, a reminder that I was not just fighting for my life, but reaching my full potential.
The excitement of battle ignited something primal in me. I was no longer just a wanderer in an unknown world; I was becoming a force, a living testament to resilience. And in that moment, I felt alive in a way I had never felt before.
They hesitated, fear in their eyes as they realized the true nature of the creature they faced. My body was covered in wounds, but it refused to give up, healing each wound with a grotesque display of resilience. Each cut seemed to ignite a wild energy in me, turning my mind into a storm of excitement and madness. When one of the bandits managed to chop off half my head from behind, I felt a strange excitement rather than despair. I stood there, my thoughts clear, even as my body turned into a nightmare form. The feeling that I was so close to death, yet somehow still alive, was intoxicating. My mind had been teetering on the edge of insanity, forged by despair during the time I'd spent in the abyss beyond the Gate of Truth, and now it burst forth like a primal force.
With a sudden maniacal laughter I rushed at them, gradually coming to my senses, as if the very essence of life was binding me together again. I fought not with precision, but with primal instinct, like a wild animal let loose. Each blow I struck was accompanied by a sense of release. The more they wounded me, the more alive I felt, each blow igniting a dark part of my being that had long been dormant.
They scattered like leaves in the wind, some were too scared to fight while others struggled to stay on their feet in the face of the storm I had turned into. I could feel the panic radiating from them in waves, their fear fueling my madness. Those who dared to flee found no escape as I pursued them with unrelenting ferocity.
I destroyed them one by one, savoring the stream of power flowing through me. Their screams became whispers of despair, echoing in the blood-soaked air. Their limbs fell away, and their once living forms froze in the wake of my furious onslaught.
As I stood in the middle of the carnage, a chilling euphoria swept over me. The ground turned dark red, and the bodies of the bandits formed a gruesome tapestry around me. It was a strange and beautiful sight, a reflection of my own chaotic rebirth.
In that moment I felt invincible, a force of nature that transcended the boundaries of life and death. The excitement of the hunt and the intoxicating power of my regeneration merged into a symphony of madness, and I savored it. I was no longer just a wandering soul; I had become a harbinger of destruction, a living embodiment of the chaos that had descended upon the world.
I lingered in the midst of the carnage, savoring the sensations that came over me. Every moment was filled with primal bliss, a mixture of euphoria and madness that enveloped me like a soothing shroud. The thrill of survival, of being prepared for destruction, of defying the very limits of mortality-these feelings pulsed through me, growing stronger with every heartbeat.
But then my musings were interrupted by a sound. A faint, hoarse sigh, barely perceptible, but enough to get my attention. I turned, surveying the field of bodies, and saw him-the man I'd cut in half, his torso severed from his lower half, but somehow he was still clinging to the last fragile threads of life.
I approached him, intrigued. It was impossible. His injuries were fatal, and yet here he was, somehow alive - or at least conscious. How resilient could people in this world be? Was it peculiar to all of them, or was he unique in some way? My curiosity piqued as I knelt down beside him.
His breathing was labored, shallow. A pool of blood had pooled beneath him, but he remained alert, the last vestiges of consciousness flickering in his eyes.
- What do you feel now? - I asked, my tone lacking any compassion, only curiosity. - Are you in pain? Or has the pain subsided? How is it that you are still alive despite these wounds? Tell me, what are the limits of your body's endurance? He didn't answer, but I could see the struggle in his eyes, the flame of life slowly fading in him. His lips moved, but no sound was heard. I continued to question him, relentlessly trying to understand. "How much can your body endure before it gives up? Can others survive such injuries, or is this your unique case? What are you made of that allows you to stay here, on the brink of death?"
There was still silence. His eyes glazed over, and I felt the last spark of life go out before my eyes. His body finally submitted to the inevitable, and with it, my questions went unanswered. I stood looking at his lifeless body, feeling slightly disappointed. I had been so close to discovering something more, a deeper understanding of the boundaries of life and death in this world. But his death came too quickly. It seemed I would have to find other, more resilient subjects to study, to test how far their bodies could go before they gave up.
There was something unsettling and at the same time, mesmerizing about the realization that my thirst for knowledge and research had surpassed all moral boundaries. I realized what I was becoming, but strangely enough, I felt no guilt - no shame or hesitation - when I thought about it. It was as if my connection to what had once made me human, to everyday values like empathy or remorse, had severed.
One moment I could dissolve into the serenity of nature, enchanted by the sound of the wind in the tree crowns or the singing of birds. And the next moment I was seized by an unquenchable thirst for struggle, a desire to push the boundaries of life and death, pain and survival.
Why did I become this way? Was it something intrinsic to me now, the result of something that had changed me? Or was it just another side of my consciousness, distorted by years of isolation in the abyss beyond the gate? Would I be able to examine myself - unravel the layers of this new existence and understand the true nature of who I had become?
There will still be time for that, I pondered. In this world, or whatever the future holds, I will find the means to study both living things and my own strange physiology. Surely in time I will be able to unlock the mysteries of this rebirth, this body that defies death.
While these thoughts haunted me, I returned to pressing practical matters. Inspecting the corpses around me, I took anything of value I could carry: coins, weapons, trinkets, anything that could be useful or for sale. And yes, I needed new clothes. My current clothes were stained with blood, they had been torn in battle. Some of the bandits had clothes that looked more intact, more presentable. I looked through it, finding something that suited me better.
As I changed into my freshly purchased clothes, I felt more prepared for the journey ahead. After all, this was only the beginning. There were still many questions to be answered, about this world, its inhabitants, and myself.