Blood Berserker - [ A Litrpg Apocalypse]

The heavens must've heard Nathan's silent plea because they'd not been attacked once since the incident with the seamern. No random fish-like alien had tried to suck them off in the middle of the ocean, which was a definite plus for the Berserker.

At the moment, other thoughts were starting to come to the fore of his mind, like how exactly they'd be welcomed by the residents of San Francisco. He twirled his sword even as he trudged through the mutated vegetation.

Their hike into town had started about an hour ago after they'd reached their destination by ship. The 'docks' had been abandoned by the looks of things; snow seemed to have taken the liberty to consume any and everything in view. The lack of human presence at what was technically supposed to be an exit off the city alarmed Nathan a little, a part of him wondering why people didn't want to occupy the port.

Or if there was anyone alive to occupy the port.

Regardless of the eerie atmosphere, they'd all gotten off the ship—excluding the golems—and Nathan had compressed the ship. The magical mode of transportation was now somewhere in his bag of holding, waiting for him to activate it once more.

"This reminds me of when we got onto your island," Daniel said, the ranger glancing around nervously.

Nathan snorted in response. For one, he wasn't anything like them; they were nothing more than a bunch of scared kittens when they'd stepped on his island. Spooked by every little sound whereas Nathan wasn't. The Berserker relished a challenge, a real one that'd push him to his limits.

"It's just quiet," Pirlo breathed. "It's nothing to worry about."

Nathan glanced at the rogue from the corner of his eye. The teen had changed personality-wise after his close shave with death. He'd grown less... Pirlo-like and more like a reasonable, albeit intense person. What that meant for the rogue's fighting capabilities was something he had no idea about. After all, a near-death experience was always going to be a game changer, and even if Pirlo didn't want to talk about it with anyone, he could tell that the teen was shaken.

"I hope so," Diane added, her eyes just as unfocused as Daniel's.

Nathan kept quiet and kept walking ahead. He wasn't sure where he was headed to, but he was pretty sure that he'd make it into a human settlement soon if there were any humans left in San Francisco. He walked without turning back, trusting in the capabilities of each member of the squad in case they were attacked.

"It's snowing less here," Diane commented.

Nathan agreed with the priestess's statement but didn't say anything, his eyes scanning for threats even as he trudged through the snow. The cold was unable to bother him as he'd far outstripped mundane challenges like that. That was one of the reasons he kept his eyes peeled and his mouth shut.

Whatever beast or monster was going to be up and about in this weather was certainly going to give him a good warm-up; heck, it might even force him to use Blood Rebellion—he highly doubted that. Still, he kept his hopes high that there was something out there that was going to challenge him. He was so starved of a challenge that he didn't even bother to tell the others to keep quiet in hopes that their voices would attract the attention of something worthwhile.

Unfortunately for him, the rest of the squad had decided to keep quiet of their own accord, and since there was no Ruben in the mix, Nathan didn't have much hope for a conversation to start up anytime soon.

Where's the blabbermouth when you need him?

Nathan rued his luck for a moment before moving on; no need to dwell on such things as he had the feeling that his fighting prowess would soon be put to the test. It didn't take more than a few moments after the thought had crossed his mind before his hunch manifested itself into reality.

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"Halt!" a deep baritone voice ordered.

Halt? What is this, the 1950s?

Nathan rolled his eyes but stopped in his tracks nonetheless, the others in his squad doing the same. He could see Pirlo reaching for his daggers out of the corner of his eye, and so he simply raised a hand in the air, signaling the rogue to pause in his tracks.

Seven figures wearing winter clothes burst out of nowhere, three wielding bows, and the four others wielding daggers. It took Nathan less than a fraction of a second to figure out that these were simply patrols. Trying his best not to escalate the situation, he decided against analyzing them.

"State your names and your business in The Piper's Domain."

The Piper's Domain.

Blood Rock.

If the Piper's Domain was the name of a stronghold, then Nathan would have to admit that it was a pretty good one. Not as scary as Blood Rock but certainly just as intriguing—if not more. Nathan considered his options; he couldn't lie to them about his name considering the fact that they could most likely analyze him. So far no one in his squad had spoken as they were all waiting for his lead, and a little part of him warmed up at their silent following.

"My name is Nathan, Nathan Orion. Those behind me are Pirlo, Diane, and Daniel," he said, pointing to his squadmates as he called their names. "We don't want any trouble; we're just looking to meet up with the rest of the human population."

"Is that so?" the deep baritone voice said. "What faction do you belong to?"

Nathan stared straight at the owner of the voice, trying to decide if this back and forth was really necessary or if he could just kill the man—who owned the baritone voice—and just be done with this charade of an investigation. The man's face twitched as he realized that Nathan wasn't hurrying to reply and neither was anyone in his squad.

The Berserker was simply considering his options. The man who'd become the mouthpiece of the group that had intercepted them seemed to be a rogue if the daggers in his hands were any indication of his Archetype. He had a forgettable face, and Nathan hazarded a guess that the man was in his late twenties. To someone like that, teenagers like Nathan and the rest of his squad refusing to cower would certainly hurt.

"Blood Army," Nathan said calmly.

"Blood Army, eh? I haven't heard of that one before," the man said, a thoughtful expression on his face.

Nathan wasn't moved by the Rogue's expression, neither was he surprised by the reaction. Blood Rock was an unknown in the grand scheme of things, and so was Blood Army by extension. Until he made a name for himself, he'd expected to get reactions like that.

"Yes, we aren't from around here," Nathan replied.

"So you say, boy," the rogue said, making sure to emphasize the last word.

He's definitely lucky Pirlo isn't the leader.

The spokesman for the Piper faction was courting death with his little posturing, and the man didn't even realize it. Hell, if it wasn't for the fact that Nathan believed that there was much to be gained from linking up with the rest of the human population in the Piper's Domain, then these guys would have been dead and covered in snow a long time ago.

"Well, what exactly are you lot doing far away from home?" the rogue asked.

Questions, questions, questions.

Nathan stared at the huge man holding daggers and speaking to him. Irritation had started to seep into the Berserker's features because of how much he was being questioned by a total random and probably inconsequential patrol in the grand scheme of things. By all things holy, Nathan couldn't remember the last time he'd been grilled like this for answers, and the irritation was starting to make little details stand out to him more.

For one, the man was huge enough to have gone for a Berserker Archetype but had chosen to become a rogue, and that told him quite a bit about the man's personality. He seemed like the type to prey on the weak, the type to jump into a battle only when a win was guaranteed, and overall someone Nathan would enjoy retiring... permanently.

"Like I said, we want to meet up with the rest of the human population. We've been stuck on an island for a while and we just found a way to get here," Nathan said irritatedly.

"Watch your tone with me, boy!" the rogue said, gnashing his teeth.

This bastard.

[Name: Tirmon Gaius

Moniker: N/A

Archetype: Rogue

Level: 23]

Nathan had to hold back the laughter that threatened to spill from his lips. Twenty-three, TWENTY-THREE! One would've thought that the rogue would've been higher leveled than that judging by the amount of posturing the asshole had been exhibiting since he'd met him. He considered starting a brawl just to show the rogue who was boss but ultimately decided not to.

"We don't want any trouble," Nathan said after a moment had passed.

"So you say," Tirmon replied. "Round 'em up, Lady Piper shall determine their fate."