Chapter 22 - The Naked Disaster, and The God of War

[Discourse #6]

Magic, my guest, is a peculiar gift in which only a few people and other creatures of different races are born with. And if those gifted are lucky, they are born with a formidable magic capacity and versed in many elements, some which are even unexplored and never seen before.

All living beings, including the undead, and regardless of whether they have magic themselves, can see the threads of magic. But only the most experienced and gifted can hide their magic, unseen to normal people and lesser gifted mages.

A prime example of this would be the eldest of my clan Arkanan. Seeing such gifted beings, you could not help but affix the words “all-powerful” and “god-like” to them.

But sadly enough, my proficiency with magic was considerably lacking as a young dragon. It was only when I had reached over my full adulthood age, five years old, that I would be able to hide my magic to normal people.

It would have also helped me considerably when I was younger, but the past is the past; an irreversible done thing.

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Standing in the middle of one of the largest grassy plain I had ever seen in my human and dragon life, I thought upon the impossible task the eldest had given me. It was to kill all the humans in both the armies which were camped more than a league from each other.

Naked and bereft of any clothing except for the strap of the bastard sword I had put on, I made a few observations with my dragon eyes; I was sure that this did not counted as transforming into a dragon, so I was not hesitant to use such a method.

From my viewpoint, I could see that I was stuck between two opposing sides of human army camps too numerous to count. The reason why I was sure of this opposition between them was due to the two different banners proudly protruding from many of the camps and wavering from the light wind.

One banner on one of the larger tent from the army to my right side had a soft green color with the outline of a sword and shield crossed together. The other banner to my left side, whereas, had a plain, black banner with a filled-in white star.

Judging from the size of each camps, both sides probably had thousands of soldiers staying. The sword and shield army—I will call it that for now due to their banner—seemed to have more tents. Naturally, that most likely meant more soldiers, so I guessed that if a battle did occur, that army would have the advantage.

Still, numbers did not mean anything if the other side had quality. But for now, I would assume that the soldiers of both sides had the same quality and experience. For now, though, both sides seemed to be in a stalemate.

I would also have to play it carefully because there was no conceivable way I could kill every humans on both sides in this weak human-form. I would most likely become fatigued and useless after killing thousands of them, but it was not worth risking to test that guess.

The eldest also probably had a way of tracking me and I figured it was most likely from the hidden blood mark he had drawn on my stomach, so transforming into a dragon was out of question. I would also dare not risk his wrath.

I changed my eyes back to human eyes and the camps became smaller in the distance.

Satisfied with the cursory observations I made, I walked toward the right army camps with the white star banners; it was the side that had less tents. And if the worst scenario come into fruition, there would be less humans to kill.

After a long moment of walking in a normal human speed, I came within sight of one of the entrance way to the “white star camps.” A dozen soldiers that had been on guard duty at this side came toward to me on horses of black and brown hues. Those horses looked as if they were bred and born for war. They were huge brutes, almost half a size bigger than the normal ones. They were also probably not afraid of the sounds of battles, having been trained to be used to it. The horses also wore hard leather near their heads to for protection and flexibility.

Most of the soldiers riding toward me did not looked amused at the sight of a lone, strange young man walking toward their camps entirely naked. A few, about three of them, looked at me with mirth plainly shown on their faces.

When they came within five feet of me, the dozen soldiers stopped in a uniform group of three lines, their trained horses instantly obeying the tug on their reins.

The lead soldier came forward, a man of probably over thirty with a grizzled beard and a hard, cold look in his eyes that would brook no funny businesses. He was wearing a suit of steel armor emblazoned with a white star insignia on the middle of the breastplate like the rest of the soldiers, but only he had a red cloak fastened behind him.

His face was as bland as he was serious. His cold, grey eyes narrowed in suspicion at me as he assessed my naked body with the unusual bastard sword strapped behind me, looking for any signs of threats. “You are not welcome here, stranger. Pray tell me your name and your reason and hope that we will give you a merciful death.”

With a few of the soldiers giving me death stares, I quickly made a decision. “I am a wandering mercenary in search of battlefields and gold. I wish to be hired by this army. And if you would, give me some clothing out of the kindness of your heart after hiring me.”

A few of the younger, more inexperienced soldiers snickered among themselves hearing that, but they quickly shut their mouths when the lead soldier gave them a hard look.

“No. You are not trustworthy and I have never heard of you. We also do not need any useless mercenaries trailing along with us.” He took out a plain, longsword that looked as if it had seen better days from behind his back. “Leave or die now, stranger.”

I was unfazed by the threat to my life and was not the least bit deterred. I still needed more information before I could go around rampaging and killing every human in sight. It would also helped if I could take advantage of the probable enmity between these two human camps.

“Wait! Is there no way I can join this army?” I said, trying to inflect my tone with a trustworthiness and a tinge of desperation, other than my usual indifference.

The leader sat atop his black war horse for a few seconds contemplating my words. Then he looked down at my nakedness and his face became set in stone. “No. Now die!” he barked, swinging down his longsword at my throat in a diagonal arc.

By then, I had already seen the attack coming and dodged it by retreating a few steps. It was in a speed that was about par with a trained human, just a little slower than Elisa Ballard, the female adventurer I had abandoned back in the chamber.

After all, I did not wanted to scare these soldiers away.

“Bastard,” he said. Then he growled at me. “Very well, you chose to do this the hard way.” He looked back toward one of his subordinate soldiers, but his trained eyes always kept me in the periphery, wary of me after seeing my speed. “Alucard! Time to show the skills you have always been bragging about.”

From the third line of the group, a tall, young soldier just barely passed his manhood, probably around eighteen or so, jumped off from his horse and landed in a neat fashion. He had hair the color of bright straws and blue eyes that was filled with optimism, and a peculiar face that was not quite far from handsome.

If I had to guess, the soldier named Alucard had probably never taken a life before and was most likely a prodigy with the sword. Were I someone with normal emotions, I would have felt sorry for him. It was always a cruel thing to learn that there is always someone better than you, especially when you have been a unmatched prodigy. But I was not normal. Instead, I would feel nothing for him.

I looked at the lead soldier. I felt that he was a shrewd and cunning man. He had wanted the soldier named Alucard to gain some experience with his first kill on an unknown man before the probable battle with the enemies camped on the other side of the grassland, the “sword and shield” army. For most, it always weighed heavily on the mind with your first kill.

Alucard came walking toward me in an unhurried manner, confident of his skills, and a proud look on his face at being selected. His shiny, new longsword was already drawn, and held in his left hand. It seemed like he had either been trained to use both hands or his left was his dominant. He was also the only one dressed in a light steel chain-mail and brown leather-armored pants for speed and flexibility.

“I have never fought against a naked man before, but there is always a first time for everything,” he said.

The very air around him spoke of a young man dreaming of glories in a war, and impressing ladies and such. It was too bad the only ladies he was going to meet on the battlefield were the large, brawny women who joined the army and the occasional slim, bloodthirsty ones. The latter ones you had to be cautious around.

I had heard an amusing advice at a tavern from a grey and old veteran soldier when I was still a human boy in my previous life. The advice was to “Never stick your dick in crazy, especially blood crazy.”

The advice sounded plausible and oh-so-quite-logical to the thirteen year old me, but coming from an old soldier who was drunker than a gender-confused cat in heat, I was still a little curious about it.

Oh well, I thought, now was not the time to be contemplating the past.

As if sensing my unwariness, Alucard dashed forward and swung his sword in a half-defensive cut, not even an ounce of waste to his movements. His natural born prodigal instincts with the sword had told him to first test out my skills a little before a full frontal engage.

In a way, his instinct was right. Sadly, it was just a little right.

My bastard sword, christened “Reaver” by the blacksmith I had bought it from, was already held in my right hand. My arm instantly moved to block his weapon. Steel against steel clashed, mine far bigger and wider than his. It stopped his weapon cold.

With speed faster than his eyes could follow, I kneed him in the groin and before he could even groan in pain, I pushed him some paces away from me with my bastard sword. Then I slapped the flat side of my bastard sword at his whole left body and Alucard flew at least three feet and dropped to the ground like a puppet whose strings had been cut off.

Mind you, it was just a light hit. I did not wanted to kill any humans yet before I could even come up with a plan. He was probably just unconscious and not moving, or had all of his breath knocked out of him to even moan in pain. Or he was dead. Probably.

Although I already had precise control over my dragon strength, the constitution of each human was different from each other, and since he was supposedly a prodigy, I assumed that Alucard could handle a light beating.

The lead soldier gave a small gasp of surprise, while the other soldiers beside and behind him were clamoring with disbelief, which led me to guess that they themselves had known of Alucard's skills.

Perhaps I had overdone it a little, beating a prodigy in just a few seconds. Now I would probably be seen as too inhumane or they would ascribe my abnormal strength and speed to magic, not that I had used any magic.

“Impossible,” the lead soldier said. Then his face turned cold and he gave me a glare that spoke that I was going to die. “Surround him, men,” he ordered, jumping down from his horse to land on the grassy, earthen ground with a heavy thud. That thud was followed by ten more men jumping down with heavy, steel armor equipped.

Six of them slowly circled around me with their swords drawn and ready, while the other five, stood a small distance away from the leading six, ready to take up any opportunities.

I was in a very disadvantageous position, but it was of my own making. I had let these soldiers surround me since I was beginning to tire of their illogical antics. Could they not see that I was being sincere with my request for employment, however temporarily that sincerity was?

When they got withing range of Reaver, just about five feet away from me, I swung my weapon around in a circular fashion. Like a whirlwind of steel, my weapon slammed into the sides of all six of the leading soldiers and they flew backwards like thrown rag-dolls.

Two of the flying soldiers collided with the the other two of the five soldiers in the rear and went down in a heap.

Only three was left standing and they stood in shock, unable to comprehend what had just happened before their very eyes. Out of the three remaining, the most experienced and the oldest man among the dozen men, the grizzled lead soldier was the most shocked. Having been through many battles, he had for sure witness extraordinary feats and a few magic if he was lucky, but he had never witnessed such strength.

Before I gave them time to overcome their surprise, I sprinted toward the three remaining soldiers who were nearby to each other and slammed the flat of my weapon into the closest one to me. A young soldier with light brown hair and squat shoulders went flying and hit the ground, landing near the few downed men who were moaning in pain.

Most of them probably had a few broken ribs and dislocated shoulders as the impact from their breastplates against my bastard sword was not inconsiderable.

Then I slammed my weapon again into the next closest one. This time, a man with a full beard went flying and landed near a soldier. He had landed badly and his right arm looked a little crooked to me, probably broken by the fall.

I looked toward the only remaining standing opponent, the grizzled lead soldier, whose red cape behind him was fluttering a little from the light wind. He was in a daze and did not even realize it before the flat of my weapon slammed into the front of his steel breastplate.

He flew five feet, the farthest out of any of them. I had, after all, swung at him with more strength than I did toward the other soldiers.

There was now a visible dent on the front of his steel breastplate where the white star insignia was. All the breath had ran out of him in a short groan in midair and as soon as he landed with a hard thud, unconsciousness hit him.

I looked at my bastard sword and saw that a few drops of blood had splattered onto it. Had I hit them hard enough that they choked out blood?

I shrugged to myself, not caring much about the welfare of the soldiers and the blood on my weapon and sheathed it back. I looked down at the ground and saw the dozen sprawled and few unconscious bodies.

Then from behind me, I heard three, long and drawn-out slow claps.

Turning around, I found myself looking at an entourage of more than a hundred male soldiers with a woman leading in front. All of the male soldiers had on black steel armors, black capes, and in the middle front of their breastplate was a star insignia blazing white. And all of them looked like veterans of many battles, hard and alert looks on all their faces.

Those claps had come from the woman leading in front.

“Well, well, well. I have met many disasters such as storms and floods, but I have never met a naked disaster before,” the full-breasted leading woman said, her short blonde hair cut just below the back of her nape. She was viewing the spectacle of the dozen sprawled bodied behind me with a smile and amusement.

She was a tall, pretty, female, looked to be around her mid twenties, and was wearing a slim, black breastplate and slim, black steel pants that looked as if it had been custom made for her, so tightly bound to her body it was. It only helped emphasize the shape of her two large mounds and her curves more.

“You know what, stranger? I think I shall call you The Naked Disaster.” She gave a short smile but the hard look in her steel, grey eyes suggested no positivity. “And you can call me Princess Amara. I must thank you for not killing my men.”

I looked at the rare sight of a princess as I had never seen one before. I had also heard that princesses usually do not lead men to battle, this world being so patriarchal.

Bundled to the sides of her horses, I could see what looked to be coiled whips and other various, metallic items jutting out from the pouches. A strange woman with a strange demeanor and strange items for a supposed war camp.

I also did not know it then, but The Naked Disaster would be the first nickname that Princess Amara would give me and the second nickname, The God of War. But the most popular one was the former first nickname.

I thought to myself with levity.

With the pace I had been meeting strange women, it was as if the whores of fate were telling me that I was destined to end up with a strange woman.