Super-Soldier in Another World: Book Two: The Fiendwood

Kid’ka held on for dear life to the rim of the wagon, his guts churning as the world passed by in a blur. He genuinely was beginning to fear that the canvas roof would tear off from the rapid pace Hoplite maintained. It was like the thick cloth was being buffeted by gales from a storm… Hoplite truly was faster than a horse.

 

The Outworlder had claimed that he’d be able to cross the bridge in seven days, a feat that Elum had disbelieved. Kid’ka himself hadn’t believed it either, but now that they were speeding across the Greatbridge like an oversized wisp… Well, Kid’ka was more convinced of Hoplite’s claims. Elum too looked convinced, what with how he did not else but goggle at Hoplite, jaw tightly clenched while he desperately clung to the boards of the vehicle. The ifrit's normally crimson flesh had paled considerably once Hoplite had reached his full speed; it was a sight that Kid’ka himself had never seen, not in all their years of knowing one another.

 

Kid’ka gasped when Hoplite hit a small bump, sending the wagon flying a couple of inches off the ground for a brief instant before it crashed back to the ground. 

 

“Could you slow down just a little bit!?” Alistair shouted, tone bordering on anger, “I nearly lost my dinner!”

 

Hoplite did not respond, likely because he could not hear Alistair over the wind. Either that or Hoplite was ignoring him. The result was the same either way, as Hoplite did not slow his pace a single bit, his face plate firmly facing the horizon. Only the very tip of the sun could be seen on the horizon, indicating that night would soon be upon them. Just when did Hoplite intend to stop and rest? He could not avoid Fiends very well if he could not see them. 

 

There was also the fact that everyone in the wagon would have to sleep at some point, and with how rough this journey was, there would be no way for anyone to rest. It wasn’t like they would have to camp in the middle of the bridge, Kid’ka was certain that Hoplite had seen at least one of the dozens of stone hallways lining the Greatbridge’s walls. Those wide halls all led to roofed rest areas for passing wagons, much like every other Greatbridge in the world. Had no one told him about that yet? Kid’ka had not been paying too much attention to the words exchanged between Hoplite and the rest of the party when it came to planning this trip.

 

His thoughts at the time had been purely on how he planned to remove Kazon’s head from his body. Kid’ka’s father hadn’t done anything to deserve such a cruel fate at the Lord of Hate’s hands. Ever since that day, Kid’ka had been filled with quiet rancor, his calm exterior belying the hot rage that dwelled within. Father had taught him to keep his strongest emotions hidden, and Kid’ka had done his best to uphold that advice. When the day of reckoning came for Kazon, Kid’ka would keep a straight face, both during the final fight and afterward.

 

Exposed emotions were as vulnerable as gaps in armor and Kid’ka would not allow that weakness to be exploited. That was something that Hoplite seemed to have a good understanding of. Kid’ka felt that he could learn a lot about stoicism from the massive man. Only Hoplite seemed to understand the importance of hiding one's emotions as Kid’ka did. Twindil had always told him that hiding emotion was unhealthy in the long run, but she just did not understand how those feelings could be exploited by an intelligent foe.

 

Back in the Faewood, Lance had managed to see how nervous Kid’ka was at being approached by her, and had moved in to use that weakness to her advantage. She had basically bullied him to try and get Kid’ka to confess the name of who had trained him in the ways of the Watcher. It wasn’t Theopalu, as she had initially suspected. In truth, Kid’ka’s mentor hadn’t been an elf at all, but the training was Watcher given nonetheless… just second handed. Thankfully Kid’ka had been able to deflect her questions effectively, and Theopalu had helped erase suspicion by vouching for him.

Kid’ka had berated himself afterward for letting his mask slip up in that instant… But what was he to do? The Watcher had approached him with knowing in her eyes, he had felt like a rabbit in a snare beneath that green gaze. Kid’ka had, at the time, believed that Lance already knew everything about him. He knew that wasn’t the case now, of course, but Kid’ka would be sure to keep his mask more firm in the future.

 

The others in this party would be wise to do the same. That wasn’t to say they were emotionally unstable, far from it, yet there were quirks they all had that could be exploited. Alistair’s temper for example: he usually had a good reign on it, but once the Atheyare was provoked to the height of his rage, Alistair would throw caution to the wind to destroy whoever had wronged him. The warrior that strikes out in blind rage is always at a disadvantage against a calm and collected opponent. Thankfully it took a lot to push Alistair to that point, but if he was overtaken by battle rage during the coming battle with Kazon…

 

Kid’ka had a feeling it’d not end well.

 

Again, it wasn’t only Alistair that was at risk of being overcome by their treacherous emotions. Every single person in this wagon hated Kazon with a fury that threatened to wipe away all self-control… Well, everyone save Theopalu and Lance, the former uncaring and the latter practically shaking in her cloak at the mere mention of the Lord of Hate.

 

Everybody else though?

 

If Kazon managed to provoke them... Well, if it came to that, Kid’ka would have to do his best to ensure that the party would remain calm. Hopefully, that responsibility wouldn’t have to land on just his shoulders, for Twindil was far more proficient at keeping them all tranquil in conflict. 

 

But if Twindil lost her self-control… He inwardly sighed. Who was he kidding? She was far more in control of her emotions than he was, even though she wore them openly. Still, Kid’ka knew just how much Twindil reviled Kazon, and that kind of hatred could muddy anyone’s senses. His eyes then found Hoplite, the man continuing to lug the wagon like a horse jumped up on raw Foundation.

 

If Hoplite came to aid in the slaying of the Lord of Hate, that would be a relief. The man wouldn’t be swept up in emotion during the fight as he only viewed Kazon as a potential obstacle, nothing more, nothing less. As an Outworlder with no connections to Ahkoolis, that made sense. 

 

His companion Michael was an Outworlder as well, though Kid’ka could tell that he despised the Lord of Hate just as the rest of them did. The way Michael clutched his thunderstaff and how he glaring toward the sickly horizon let Kid’ka know exactly how the Outworlder felt. It made sense though, for Kazon was the one who had sent Michael’s star crashing into the Fiendwall. Michael had been trapped beneath tons of rubble for days on end, surrounded by the rotting corpses of his comrades… In the darkness, all alone.

 

Kid’ka wondered if Michael had a fear of the dark after that experience. He would not look down on the Outworlder if that was the case, few people could come out of a horrific scenario like that unscathed. Now that it was beginning to grow darker outside, how would Michael fare? Would he become a liability in the field? The Fiendwood was a land of near-constant darkness, at least that was what most suspected. It was close to the Icy-Lashes, where the sun’s rays barely touched Ahkoolis. 

 

If Michael did indeed have nyctophobia as Kid’ka expected, then he’d need to work hard to quickly overcome his fear. Kid’ka doubted it would be easy though, such scars usually took years to heal, and sometimes they just never did. Kid'ka knew that his scars sure hadn't, and they never would. His nature as a Pillar-Born ensured that he’d never live long enough to see them heal… Unless he Ascended, of course.

 

He frowned, quickly turning his attention from that dire eventuality to instead stare at Hoplite’s back. They would need to stop soon, and for some reason, no one else had decided to let Hoplite know that it was time to rest. Maybe everyone was too nervous to stand? The speed Hoplite maintained was quite intimidating… 

 

If that were the case, then Kid’ka would have to take the reins. Now… What was the correct thing to say? Kid’ka practiced his words for a couple of minutes, rehearsing them silently beneath his red scarf until he was satisfied with their delivery.

 

He then began crawling on all fours toward the front of the wagon, receiving odd stares from Elum and Alistair as he went. Twindil seemed preoccupied with staring out of the back of the wagon, likely meditating on her ways of tranquility. Theopalu and Nolvi both somehow seemed to be napping, despite how rough the ride was. If they could sleep through this then they could probably sleep through a Godling War. Lance and Michael, who both sat just behind Hoplite in the front of the wagon, paid no heed to Kid’ka until he passed into their periphery, causing both of them to jump in their seats.

 

“Woah!?” Michael shouted, blue eyes narrowing in a glare, “Ya can’t just go sneakin’ up on a marine like that! I coulda shot ya by accident!”

 

“I couldn’t even hear you approaching…” Lance breathed, her skin going a shade of pale, “I thought a Fiend had somehow gotten aboard.” Her green eyes then found Kid’ka’s, and her brows lifted in preparation to deliver a scolding, “For the sake of my heart, don’t do that again.”

 

“Uh…” Kid’ka struggled, “It was an accidental mistake, sorry.” He apologized, keeping his voice as flat as possible despite the horrid awkwardness he felt.

 

‘Accidental mistake’!? Why on Ahkoolis would he utter such mouth salad? Kid’ka didn’t wear his frustration on his face, keeping his expression neutral as he gripped the edge of the wagon. Now, how did the words he practiced go again? That interaction with Lance and Michael just now had scrambled his script.

 

“We have to need stopping-” Kid’ka began, choking on his words for a brief instant before continuing. “Wait sorry, we have to stop now. It’s getting dark.” He shouted at Hoplite’s back.

 

“Negative,” Hoplite replied loudly, “My suit allows me to see in the dark. It will be more optimal to keep running through the night.”

 

Lance winced at those words, cupping a hand around her mouth and shouting, “Kid’ka is right, Hoplite! You may be able to keep running, but we can’t sleep like this!”

 

Almost on cue, the deep sound of Theopalu’s snoring cut through the air like a saw blade on stone, still somehow audible over the wind.

 

“Negative.” Hoplite replied immediately afterward, “Two of you are sleeping already.” 

 

Kid’ka turned his head, spotting Alistair and Elum both glaring daggers at Theopalu and Nolvi. 

 

After a brief moment, Alistair turned his head toward Hoplite, cupping his hand over his mouth and shouting, “That’s because they’re freaks! I cannot, nor will not sleep in this damn tumble-shack!”

 

“I second that!” Elum shouted, “Look if this is about what I said earlier-”

 

“Negative.” Hoplite replied, his tone bordering on snappish, “This is simply more optimal.”

 

“Optimal for you!” Alistair shouted, “We can’t all very well fight off the Fiends if we’re falling over each other sore and exhausted!”

 

Twindil let out a deep sigh then, turning from her seated position with a stern glare, “Tranquility please, all this shouting is making it difficult to commune with Afina.”

 

Kid’ka could barely hear her over the gales of wind passing through the wagon, but Alistair seemed to pick up on every word, and a small vein popped on his temple as his head turned to face her.

 

“Did you hear anything we just said!?” Alistair shouted, gesturing toward Hoplite, “Bucket-boy here wants to keep going all night! I’m not doing that!” 

 

“Don’t you call thirty-seven ‘bucket-boy’.” Michael growled, “You ain’t got the first idea who he is or what he’s done, show some respect.”

 

“Oh what, is the bucket-baby getting upset!?” Alistair shouted at Michael, his features hardening and face reddening.

 

“Bucket-what!?” Michael shouted back, teeth bared like a wolf. “I oughta buckkick your face in Alisturd!”

 

“Stand down marine!” Hoplite shouted from the front of the wagon, his pace slowing as Lance moved between Michael and Alistair.

 

Elum placed a hand on Alistair’s shoulder as the man attempted to stand, trying to force him to remain sitting. Perhaps Kid’ka was incorrect in thinking that the Atheyare had a good reign on his temper. Kid’ka himself felt oddly enraged… It was an alien feeling, for nothing had happened that would have normally angered him. What could have been the cause for that? Perhaps it was simply frustration at how Alistair and Michael were behaving?

 

No… it was something else. He felt the need to scream at Lance, to berate her for the bullying she’d done to him in the Faewood. To demand an apology for the irritating glances she occasionally shot his way, filled with suspicion and-

 

Kid’ka blinked, taking a deep breath to calm himself. These feelings were alien and he would deny them. They could not have come from within… but if this rage was truly not his own, then where had it come from?

 

“I’d love to see you try!” Alistair shouted, “I’m going to tear off that greasy beard and choke you with it!”

 

“I will neutralize you.” Hoplite growled loudly, his head actually turning to give a side-view of his helmet, “I’ll rip your head off.”

 

Kid’ka blinked in shock. Even Hoplite was affected by this strange mood? Why was this happening?

 

“Oh, would you all just stop it!” Lance shouted angrily, “None of you are doing anything but screaming! Why did I decide to journey with fools!?”

 

Elum then grit his teeth, turning to glare daggers at the Watcher, “We didn’t even ask for you to come in the first place, how about you get off and head back to your dainty little forest?”

 

“Silence!” Twindil shouted, standing straight up from her seat with perfect balance despite the speed of the wagon, “You will all be silent, or I will make you tranquil, do I make myself clear?” She finished, her face stony and unreadable. “The wagon will stop. We will rest, we will reconcile, and in the morning we will be on our way. I will hear no argument.”

 

“He-” Alistair began before Twindil harshly cut him off.

 

“Fool!” She shouted over him, “Think, this is Kazon’s realm.” She continued. “The Lord of Hate is already at work on your minds, do not be pulled into your rage, or you will be lost.”

 

Kid’ka inwardly gasped at Twindil’s words. She was absolutely right… They were in Kazon’s sphere of influence now, within reach of his vile magic. How many parties of adventurers had come here only to tear one another apart before even reaching the Fiendwood proper? The Fiends weren’t the deadliest thing about the Fiendwood… it was hate. The battle with Kazon had already begun… By the Pillars, how were they supposed to reach the Rotting Ilum like this? 

 

If things were to keep going this way, they’d all kill each other before reaching the other end of the bridge. Kid’ka normally wouldn’t dream of harming his friends, they’d been with him since he was but a child… But if Kazon could strengthen hate and rage to such a degree… No, Kid’ka would not allow himself to be pulled into it. He’d have to be tranquil like Twindil said.

 

“I should have predicted this, the fault is mine.” Twindil said, rubbing a hand across her brow, “Yet we have an advantage in my presence.”

 

Everyone inside the wagon, save for Theopalu and Nolvi, furrowed their brows in confusion. What could Twindil do to counteract this invasive hatred? Did it have to do with her connection to the Pillar-God of Tranquility Afina? 

 

“Once we stop this cart, I’ll set to work, and Kazon will no longer be able to touch our minds, at least not easily.” Twindil continued, approaching the front of the wagon, “If you would please stop the wagon, Hoplite. The little alcoves you’ve seen are intended for travelers to rest in. It would be more ‘optimal’ if we were all shielded and well-rested for the journey.” She explained loudly, maintaining her calm tone.

 

A moment passed, then another, and another until Hoplite began slowing his stride. It seemed that Twindil had managed to convince Hoplite after all. Ever since they were children, Twindil had a way of making people see sense. Kid’ka was thankful for that talent for his back could not have taken much more punishment today.

 

How long would Hoplite have continued if left uninterrupted? All night for certain, and likely all day tomorrow… could he have continued like that for seven whole days without stopping? No, it couldn’t be possible, but perhaps for three. Kid’ka would ask Hoplite about how long he had planned on going for. The insane strength and endurance that Hoplite had shown today was impressive…

 

Very impressive. As a Tongue of Zodd, Kid’ka found himself wondering if Hoplite would consent to Tomah. Non-fatal, of course, just a friendly bout between warriors. Perhaps they could have a quick spar before it was time to bed down? That would be pleasant, especially knowing that Kid’ka wouldn’t have to hold anything back against Hoplite. 

 

After all, the Outworlder had managed to kill Kid’ka’s brother in fair combat, holding back wouldn’t be an option.