-I want you to attack one of the merchants' caravans. I want you to destroy it, I want you to make people prefer to buy from me instead of those bastards. -
The man narrowed his eyes. An act of sabotage. Something dirty and low.
-And what's in it for me? What's the reward? - he asked in a low voice.
The man laughed mockingly and raised the hand that held the girl.
- To her. -
The silence became heavy.
The man felt a shiver run down his spine. During his life, he had seen many things, but this... this was the most disgusting thing he had ever witnessed.
- Why are you offering a girl instead of money? - he asked in a dangerous and suspicious tone.
The merchant snorted indifferently.
-Money? Please. She's not worth the rag on her back. She's an orphan on the verge of death, don't you see? She can barely stand on her feet. To any man deprived of certain pleasures, one such as she is no more than a mere plaything, something worth more than the money I can offer you for this commission.
The man's blood boiled. His fists clenched so tightly he felt his fingernails dig into his skin.
It wasn't his problem. He had no obligation to intervene. He could ignore it, walk away, and pretend he never heard it. But something inside him, something deep and visceral, refused to let that girl suffer such a miserable fate.
The man took a deep breath, controlling the fury that threatened to explode and kill the merchant who offered him the deal, and when he came to himself more calmly he spoke with a firm voice:
-I accept the commission but under my conditions. You will pay me with money and you will also give me the girl.
The merchant raised an eyebrow in surprise. Then his expression twisted into a sneer.
-Who the hell do you think you are to make demands of me?
Without warning, she shoved him violently, causing him to take a step back.
-You have no idea of the power of the classes, you know your own class, you vermin. Those below don't demand anything. They either accept or die.
The man looked at him unblinkingly, his unwavering, menacing countenance causing the merchant to take a step back.
-But it's all right. I accept. After all... I trust you will succeed in fulfilling the request, just don't die trying if you want your reward. - The merchant smiled mischievously.
The deal was done. But inside, the man had already decided something. Not only was he going to complete the order. He was also going to make sure that this man paid for his sins.
And he would do it in the cruelest way possible.
The path was narrow, surrounded by trees that cast ghostly shadows in the pale moonlight. The man hid in the undergrowth, watching the chariot approach with a metallic crunch of wheels against the dry earth. Beside him, a group of paupers writhed in anxiety, some biting their nails, others clutching their rusty weapons with trembling hands.
He knew better than to trust them. He knew better than anyone that the reward would only go to one of those who were about to attack the chariot, just as he also knew that none of them would live long enough to claim the reward, no one but him would save that girl.
They were desperate men, willing to do any atrocity to get a reward. But for now, they served him and followed him almost as if they knew he was the one to take command.
From his position, he waited for the exact moment. The horses plodded forward, the merchant in charge whipping the reins impatiently. Inside the chariot, two bodyguards stood at attention, ready to draw their weapons as soon as they detected danger.
The man picked up a rock and hurled it into the forest.
The impact resounded with a hollow echo. The horses whinnied, uneasily, and the merchant pulled hard on the reins.
-Hey, did you hear that? -asked one of the bodyguards.
-Quiet. It was probably just an animal," replied the other, although his voice reflected doubt.
It was time, the chariot had stopped as planned. With a snap of the fingers, the man gave the signal. A second later, the logs he had placed in the road fell with a thud, blocking the way.
-Shit! -exclaimed the merchant, tugging desperately at the reins, trying to turn around before things got worse.
The bodyguards jumped out of the chariot, swords drawn. That's when the traps sprung.
One of the men stepped on a noose hidden in the grass, and in the blink of an eye, he was swept through the air, hanging upside down. Before he could scream, a stone struck his temple with the precision of an executioner, knocking him instantly unconscious.
The other bodyguard tried to react, but the man was already upon him. He moved like a shadow, dodging his attack and striking him with an open palm in the chest. The impact was enough to make him lose his breath, and before he could fall, a second blow to the back of his head knocked him out.
The merchant inside the chariot began to hyperventilate.
-No, please...! -he muttered in desperation.
The paupers paid no attention to him. They pounced on the cart like ravenous beasts, tearing crates, tearing cloth, and devouring fruit with sickening voracity.
The man sighed. He didn't care about the looting. His job was done. He approached the merchant, who was trembling, his face drenched in sweat.
-I won't kill you," he said coldly. But you will need a good blow to forget this night.
Before the merchant could respond, his fist impacted with precision on his jaw. His body slumped to the ground, unconscious.
And then, the real hell began.
As he turned to walk away, he felt the presence behind him. The homeless men stared at him with crooked smiles, wielding knives, razors, and improvised weapons.
One of them licked his lips.
-Good fight, friend," he said in a raspy voice, "Now that we've accomplished this mission, it's our turn to accomplish the other one you guys told us... Remember, you made a better offer.
The man narrowed his eyes.
-Offer?
Another homeless man laughed, showing yellow, rotten teeth.
-The merchant who hired us told us that if we killed you, we'd get a better reward... and the girl.
The silence was unbearable.
The man watched them with terrifying calm, while they laughed like hyenas.
-If you kill me, you will kill each other to decide who gets the reward.
-Ha! That will only make everything more fun. - replied one of them and they decided to attack.
Twenty men against one.
The first one lunged with a rusty knife. The man dodged it with ease, grabbing his wrist and twisting it brutally. A sharp snap, followed by a scream of agony. But the real nightmare was when the man's blood touched her skin.
A sickening sound filled the air.
The homeless man's flesh began to melt. His eyes widened in horror as his skin bubbled, draining from his bones like melted wax.
The others stopped dead in their tracks, watching as their companion collapsed to the ground, reduced to a charred jumble of flesh.
-W-what is this? -stammered one, backing away.
But the man was already on the move, pulling out the bone weapon he had previously been handed.
He lunged towards another enemy, filled the edge of the bone with his own blood, and struck the wanderer in the chest, generating a deep cut. His skin burned instantly, exposing his organs as a piercing scream escaped his throat.
Another tried to stab him, but the man caught the blade with his bare palm. The weapon melted in his hands, along with the fingers of his attacker, who collapsed writhing in pain.
Desperation spread among the homeless. Some tried to flee, but the man gave them no chance.
He cut the stomach of one, causing his intestines to fall to the ground like a broken sack.
Another had his jaw broken with a fist full of his own blood from the cut the weapon had made earlier, and the blow caused his flesh to liquefy and his skull to be exposed.
One more tried to escape, but the man held him by the neck. The skin on his throat disintegrated in seconds, leaving him on the ground with an expression of eternal horror.
One by one, they fell.
Dark blood soaked the ground. Trees, rocks, and merchandise were covered in smoldering viscera.
As the last homeless man collapsed with flesh still melting, the man fell silent. His breathing was steady, his expression impassive.
He was finished. He knew that this power he had been given was an excellent weapon, although it also affected him, losing so much blood was not the best thing in these cases.
Calmly, he collected the weapons of the fallen and put them in a bag. He took the little food that had survived and checked the pockets of the corpses. He found more money than expected, including that of the merchant and the still-unconscious bodyguards.
Without hesitation, he lit a torch and threw it on the chariot. The flames quickly consumed it, illuminating the massacre with a dancing, sinister light.
The job was done.
Without looking back, he drove off in the direction of the village. He still had unfinished business.
The girl was waiting for him.
author's note: remember to visit my website if you want to support my work. there you will find advanced chapters. patreon.com/SlipperyRaccoon - DON'T FORGET TO LEAVE POWER STONES EVEN