Far From Vanilla: Modded Game Reincarnation

Clang!

I confidently put my right arm over my head to block a machete. Naturally the heavy gauntlets I had on protected my arm, however credit is to be given to whoever deserves it. The blow was powerful enough from the leader to score the outer steel and knock my forearm downward slightly.

 He didn’t slash me, but that was power behind his blow, and if I was unarmored, my arm forearm would’ve been slashed clean through. But unfortunately for him I was, and I’m not strong enough to completely block out even the transferred energy.

“There’s only one of him!” The leader bellowed his orders, “He can’t win! For our brothers! Aim for his joints!”

He was intelligent but not very wise. That was undoubtedly the best course of action for them, I would’ve done the same, but I’m not someone they can win against. Crkk–

I titled my arm downward, letting the machete’s edge glide through my gauntlet and the armored back of my hand. The second his blade’s momentum caused him to lurch ever so slightly forward, I swung outward to strike.

Whoosh!

But I missed. The leader stepped a pace back to narrowly avoid my arm, lunging himself forward to aim for the chain-mail gap, in-between my breastplate and underneath my heavy metal pauldrons.

“He’s slow! He’s just heavy, overwhelm him!”

It looked smart on paper, wiser in person, but I’m slow, not stupid. This man was the type to lead his group forward, headfirst and with full confidence. It wasn't unfounded, in fact it's somewhat admirable, but his bravado was what’s going to get himself killed. His group along with him for that matter.

Plus I have motivation as well. This guy’s goons fit the description of the people that’s been harassing grandma and Cody. They also were part of the tumor that needed to be surgically removed.

However I am no scalpel.

Clang!

“You're going to have to do better than that–” I strained, tensing my muscles as I turned my body. The tip of his weapon hitting my breastplate instead.

In the olden days, If you got shot in the knee, everything below it was amputated, unlike in modern times where incredible reconstruction is possible. They’re the tumor of this city, so I don't care if the whole arm is cut off, it's better that the body were to live than to die prematurely because of a faulty arm.

This city has no need for his life, so neither will I hesitate to end it. Of course I could validate this kill by saying it was self defense of my own person and the two behind me, but after taking into consideration what must be done– that is only an excuse. If they didn’t come for me today, I would’ve gone for them tomorrow.

“--But it’s too late.” I bring my left foot back, adding more momentum on top of the counter-clockwise turn of my body. All that power was transmitted to the end of my flail, concentrated through the physics of centripetal motion.

Shing! Crrrkkkshh–

“Agh!--” The bald leader screamed as the styled flagellum embedded its three whips into his upper body, wrapping itself around the back of his head, around his neck, and over his shoulder, anchored in place by curved spikes on the ball itself and on the chain-links.

A single pull was enough for the spines of the flail to superficially lacerate everything it was connected to, causing the man pain so great that he collapsed forward and near my feet. 

Obviously he didn’t die from that blow, and instead bleed profusely from the stripes now on his person. 

This was a weapon designed to torture, to inflict pain, to anchor into flesh and to tear it. It was the perfect weapon to use against humans.

You could bludgeon monsters with it too of course, but it’s most effective against living creatures of flesh and blood,

perfect in the hands of someone like me. I am not human, I am a demon now.

So although my knowledge on that is fairly limited for now, I will embrace myself for all my strengths and do so accordingly, but not without thought—

Da-Dum!

“S-Sweet–” I thought as the smell of blood reached my nostrils. The leader’s blood splattered onto my face-guard, and I was met by a sweet aroma. My heart quickened and my breathing became erratic.

I knew what blood smelled like. I knew what rust smelled like, and this was no different, but my body is reacting as if it were the sweetest scent. 

My thoughts were preyed upon by a single desire to get more of that scent… but I resisted. I may be a Demon, but I’m still Hyun Seong. I will not be controlled by my bodily instincts,

“At his best, Man is the crown or nature, above even the noblest of beasts; but without reason or control, is when he is the most detestable of them all.” The Journal chuckled, “Well done, my disciple. Now go forth– wreak havoc on the thralls that dare stand in your way!”

I looked back at the fallen leader and raised my right foot. “B-Boss!” his henchmen tried to call out to him in warning, but before the man could rise from the ground, my boot set him down permanently.

Crush!

The cracking of his skull was a beautiful song in my ears, but my body and mind were not clouded by it. I was in control. When my body first flared up for the first time, I didn’t just react to the magic in effect, but the materials used by it too.

[ You have leveled up! ] [ Achievement points have been rewarded! ]

[ You have leveled up! ] [ Achievement points have been rewarded! ]

[ You have leveled up! ]....

“You led your subordinates well, but you didn’t teach them how to properly attack somebody with numbers.” My grip on the flail tightened, a single man whose name rang annoyingly in my head, “Mercury… you’re next.” 

Mercury had used a substantial amount of blood to fuel his criminal empire, and maybe worse, his powers. He was someone that should never be left to live. Whether or not it was through human sacrifices or something else, it couldn’t be good.

The growl of my words caused the men to flinch. “Don’t even think you’re walking out of here alive.”

The men regained their fortitude and ran at me as if their leader didn’t just die underneath my boot. They came all together but I don’t remember thinking much, with my body just moving on its own. Soon enough the sounds of war cries turned into screams of anguish, my ears numbing out the noise and my body began ignoring the sensation of my weapon’s thorns ripping flesh and breaking bone with every impact.

Every swing of my arms, inward or outward, seemed to result in the defeat of an enemy, either killing them outright or knocking them out of the fight. Those close enough for me to finish off were killed almost immediately, with either my boots or fists, but I vaguely remember someone saying something though.

“Get the kid! Leave the grandma alone! She’s with us!” He said. I didn't know what he meant, neither did I care at the time. I only focused my attention on the man that tried to run past me.

“Oh no you dont–” I swung my right arm while turning my body, my flail latching onto the person’s body– two of which lodged itself on his back while the other went over his shoulder and into his chest.

 He screamed as the anchoring spikes were lodged into his body, his yelling turning harsh when I pulled.

Schhh–

The thorns were yanked and the man fell on his back. I brought my flail down on him, this time the spikes landing on his belly, but before I could pullI felt the energy of a blow to my head.

Clang!

It was disorienting, especially since the ringing did not only extend to inside my skull, but inside my helmet too. Unfortunately for my attacker it wasn’t enough to break my stance. I turned to see him preparing another downward attack for my head with his long knife but that was thwarted by his compatriot being thrown into him.

I pulled as hard as I could with my flail, which was attached to the prone gang member, and inadvertently carried him into his friend. Only when I watched them both fall on the ground did I return to my senses. 

In that instant, the fatigue that was building up from the duration of that battle, came over me in one large wave. My body felt limp and I promptly fell on a chair nearby, but my eyes did not leave the scene I created.

Blood was splattered everywhere, broken chairs and tables pushed to the side of the room with some bits impaling unconscious gangsters or their corpses. There were half of the attacking force with the other half missing.

“They must’ve fled,” I gasped looking at the doorway. I blinked but the fatigue made my tired eyes heavy but I looked at the sky and It was only dawn. This was not normal… Something was wrong…

“He…Hehehe—” I could hear someone hoarsely laugh. It was the man I threw onto someone else. He was on the ground, clutching his stomach, holding the internal organs from spilling out further but despite his efforts, he was getting paler and paler by the passing second.

“The hell are you laughing at…” I questioned him, blinking harder and frowning to keep myself awake.

“At you,” The man croaked, but not without a laugh, “It took a while but the poison is kicking in… monstrous bastard–”

“Blehh–” At the sound of that word my heart throbbed painfully, causing me to lurch forward and vomit, my heavy breakfast coming out with clots of black-colored blood. “What the fuck–”

“It was only a matter of time…” The man grinned, “We had to go through so many hoops just to get this kind of venom… but the boss is always right…”

I opened my mouth to speak, but the helmet made it difficult, so I raised the face-guard to look at the man. But that was my mistake. “Boy! Behind you!” The Journal warned me but it was futile.

“You young’uns always talk.” The elderly inn-keeper scoffed, “Always talking.” 

Slash!

And at her words, a single slash met my throat, slicing cleanly through my carotid arteries. “Silence is a virtue, you know.”