The Red Lands

Shouldering a burden

The stains on the black cloak blended into it quite nicely. The red color even matched the dark, polished leather armor below. The vertical sword also seemed well parked, if not considering it sticking out of a man's ass lying on the ground.

One might also say the scene, ignoring the headless corpse, seemed a tad bit comical.

The minute but eye-catching details lent a different picture...

The little scarlet rivulets running down the lightly tanned face.

The fresh dripping liquid from the matted infantile black beard.

And the red spray across the eerie smile, however, acted as a mighty deterrent to the onlookers.

Ming gazed at the previously confident group whose legs shivered from more than the cold. Suddenly, he burst out hollering with wide-open eyes. Like a hysterical man who happened onto the scene of a murder, his shaking finger pointed,

"What the hell happened here? One minute, Mr. Sallow and I chatted amicably, and the next, I saw him on the ground. Who did this? Bob! Was it you?"

The beheading of the so-called Mr. Sallow occurred so quickly, the bandits didn't have time to adjust to this out-of-the-blue question. A bearded man holding a wooden stake found himself to be the center of attention. Before he could deny the accusation and also correct the error concerning his name, a sword pierced his chest.

Not knowing when, the tall brunette had acted during the confusion. His lifeless eyes remained open while gazing down at the hilt of the blade presently skewering into his heart.

In the space of half a breath, added to the time required for a silly question, two men lost their lives. Naturally, the ambushers descended into chaos. Camaraderie in the face of a superior foe soon vanished.

The men did not wait to witness the vicious kick from the girl, which freed the embedded sword from their deceased companion. When the corpse thumped on the snow, fight or flight had already ensued.

A bucktoothed, lanky man lunged towards Finn while raising his hand. Brandishing the wooden stake up high, he hoped to claim a life. This, Mr. Tooth, felt he made an accurate decision.

From an observer's point of view, the choice of opponent seemed excellent. The combed, straw-colored, short hair, the groomed beard, and the tailored, well-fitted clothes placed Finn far from being a competent fighter.

"Die, you wretched, filthy-rich, merchant! Die!"

The raised stake stabbed forcefully downwards while accompanied by a vicious shout. Halfway into his strike, the elegant victim retreated one step back. With his failed attack yet to complete, Mr. Tooth witnessed the so-styled debonair lunge forward while powered with an extended right foot.

The counterattack occurred so unexpectedly that thoughts of parrying never materialized.

"Urrgh! How..."

Mr. Tooth blinked his eyes while staring at the horizontal blade piercing into his stomach. He raised his head, but his assailant proved unavailable to lock eyes with him. Groaning, he only saw the elbows bend and straighten as the blade added two more holes in his chest.

Even without the advantage of a talisman, military-style training raised the skills of the farm residents beyond those of an undisciplined bandit.

While Mr. Tooth chose to attack, Old Potts's unrelated nephew decided on the hostage-taking route. His mind warned him against the raven-haired boy and the violent brunette. The screaming yellow-braided girl attests to be a wise selection.

"Come har lassie, you be my ticket out of here."

"Stay away, you fiend!"

"Shut yor trap, you better hope you little master likes you much."

The man answered as he lunged at the girl with open arms. His actions easily netted this scented young lady into his embrace. One head taller than Shauna, the bald man lowered his chin. The glazed eyes and upturned mouth questioned the surprised, gentle face returning his gaze.

"Why..."

Dropping his arms and staggering backward, his actions also helped release the dagger buried inside the center of his chest. Only now did he recall this screaming girl had held a dagger, partly hidden inside her gray cloak. Slumping onto his knees, the fast-fading, black irises accused the bloodied hands of the murder.

"Oh no... What happened? I didn't mean..."

Shauna stuttered.

Ming strode over after removing his sword from the spraying heart of another man. During the skirmish, he placed himself between the majority of the bandits so as to reduce the pressure on Finn and Rose. He did, however, keep an eye on the field of battle.

"It's ok, he won't die from that cut."

Squeezing the shoulder of the girl who appeared lost while staring at her bloodied dagger, he walked towards the kneeling man.

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"You're lucky Shauna missed your heart. I have a potion here... ahh what the!"

His shout roused the flustered girl. She only noticed a scuffle as Ming dropped to the ground in front of her. A rusted dagger stuck out of his leather armor on the side of his belly.

His right hand, however, remained extended, holding onto the withdrawing sword from the chest of the dead man.

"Arrgh! Damn, ingrate! Rose, Finn! Chase the stragglers. Don't let my life be in vain!"

Ming voiced while groaning. Rushing to his assistance, Rose helped raise and carry him near the fire.

"Shauna! What are you waiting for? Hurry and help him. Finn, let's go!"

Rose broke the girl out of her stupor as she called Finn towards the wagon. There, the burly Knut walked towards them with a bloodied ax. The bandits who wanted to graduate to horse rustling encountered a rude surprise from the blacksmith lurking inside the wagon.

"Knut, defend that idiot while we head out. Don't worry, it's not life-threatening. Which direction?"

"I shot one, but he tottered along the road behind us. This one received my ax. The only survivor ran into the grasslands out there."

"Good work. Finn and I will deal with the grassland runner first before tracking the wounded. Keep your eyes peeled in case he returns."

***

In the late evening, a lone wagon trundled along the snowy road. The hood and cloak could not hide the fact that the driver was a rare female. A slight breeze unhooded her and then sent a few strands of her brunette hair fluttering. Next to her, a raven-haired teen leaned on the seat while groaning.

"Cut the act, you idiot. Shauna can't hear your irritating moans."

Ming scowled at the heartless response while fixing himself on the seat.

"Sometimes I think you own a heart of stone, Rose. As my future sister-in-law, I expected you to be crying and hugging me back then."

"Pfft! You do know we were yet in the middle of a fight, right? Suppose your yells had caused the cowards to return?"

Rose snorted. From her position, she had a full view of the scenario being played out. Exhaling in a sigh, she looked towards Ming.

"I saw the whole thing. You're surprisingly kindhearted when you need to be."

"Hehe... so you did, did you? At that time, the skirmish was pretty much over. I spotted the guy lunging at Shauna, but decided not to interrupt. Since he didn't unsheath his knife at the time, I figure he wanted a hostage. Who knew her reflex from training would kick in?"

Ming gazed at the sky while continuing.

"When I heard the yelp and spotted her shaking hand holding the dripping dagger, I knew I had to do something."

"Hmph, you and I both know that man was on the brink of death. Blocking her sight... while stabbing yourself... and then delivering the final blow. How the heck did you think of that?"

Rose asked while clicking the clopping horses.

"Did you remember how we returned after confronting the bandits back then? Even Lucy vomited and couldn't sleep. If Mr. and Mrs. Thomas had not been there, maybe I might have gone mad. Shauna never even killed a goblin nor a demon beast. Letting her see the evil side of humans is enough for now. Later on, I'm sure she will be able to steel her innocent heart. Killing a pheasant in the grassland differs from killing a man."

"I agree. If not for the fighting and killing during the goblin and Bitzer raids, I wouldn't be sitting like this. My stomach still feels a little queasy, but after finding those dead bodies, I believe heaven has delivered justice. How did you know they had killed before?"

"Chu says you can tell a man's intent by looking at his eyes. When that man chatted about us being the first on the road, I knew then he lied. Another mistake was their campsite, which showed signs of being used for days. As soon as we walked over, I smelled the scent of blood. From the slip of their tongue, I dare say they are survivors from a village slum seeking to profit from the demon beasts' disaster."

Ming answered.

While Shauna tended to his self-inflicted wounds, Knut pillaged the campsite. Searching, the burly blacksmith found three bodies half-buried behind the snowbank in a shallow dig. The bodies also bore wicked wounds on their necks and chests. The discovery caused gasps and raised his companions' awareness.

Rose guided the reins while looking at the two riders scouting in the distance. Finn had pulled Shauna to assist him in scouting so as to lift her spirits. Leaving her in the wagon with Ming would only prolong her guilty feelings. A low voice interrupted from the top of the cage.

"For a lazybones, you really have a blazing mind. No wonder the Boss lets you tag along whenever he and Lucy leave on important trips. A guilty conscious is way better than thinking she killed a man."

Knut said from the top of the wagon. He rubbed a sore shoulder from digging a proper grave for the previous unfortunate victims. As for the bandits, Ming left them lying on the snowbank with the head of the beheaded man perched on a stake.

Throughout the empire, this was the sign and fate of defeated bandits. Wild animals would determine how long they remained on display.

Ming shot him an eye.

"For a first-timer, I'm surprised you can remain so calm after killing a man."

"Nah, this doesn't worry me one bit. I might probably feel bad, killing a goblin, rather than a bandit. When I split that man's chest, I only thought about pounding iron on my anvil. What worries me is how am I going to construct that windmill-driven pump for the Boss when I return."

"..."

"..."

Ming and Rose looked at each other while making a wry smile. The teen brushed his black, shoulder-length hair and then raised his head.

"What the heck do you guys really do inside that blacksmith sweat-house?"

***

Chu sniffled while sitting behind his desk. On a rare evening when he found himself free, he reclused himself in this sanctuary. Leaning forward, he propped his two elbows onto the desk while scrutinizing his hand. Currently, he held his two index fingers horizontally with a minute space between them.

Peering down, he watched as a tiny white spark zipped and disappeared. The occurrence happened so fast, one couldn't tell which direction it flowed. Sighing, he fixed himself on the chair and then reclined onto the high backrest. Tapping his fingers as if he accomplished an ordinary action, he mused to himself.

"Unlike that green-eyed troublemaker, I can't supplement this charge with mana. Maybe when I unlock one hundred stars, I could see where it goes."

Bringing his fingers in question to his eyes, he willed the previously impossible. Watching the index fingers half an inch apart, he waited. Five minutes later, a silvery spark jumped the air bridge.

Curling his lips up in satisfaction, he laughed.

"Since arriving in this world, struggling in life seems universal. Back on earth, I worked towards financial stability. Here, I'm actually doing the same. Same goal, different paths. As for crazy abilities, well, everyone knows the meaning of hard work and dedication."

Tapping his fingers on the desk, he then twisted his mouth.

"Maybe a human battery? No, I have enough on my plate already. It's time I try to focus on a special attack. This world and its unpredictability haven't treated me kindly."

Chu raised his head to the broad wooden beams hanging high overhead. Recalling his past experiences, he recounted. The raiding goblins and his near-death dealings with the bandits surfaced in his mind.

"Maybe an area of attack skill? One that would paralyze a group of attackers. Or perhaps a single strike to disable a single attacker?"

The scene within his memory slowly morphed into the image of a lumbering tank. The formidable Kurat soon displaced all contenders.

"No. What I want is a one-shot kill. Something, when used, can cripple or even defeat such a foe. Preferably from a distance."

Placing his fingers in the now-familiar position, he delved in thought until the spark arrived.

"Eureka!"