Born a Monster

Type: Social

At least I was at full health when I was discovered. Honestly, I could and should have just remained hidden, let the crowd have him.

But I’ve gotten ahead of myself, again. Although able (and willing) to sleep for most of the day, once the sun reaches my eyes, I am awake. In pain, yes, but definitely awake.

So I was quite bored in my nutritious, deadly to humans home. How was I not to take interest as a man fled from a mob, not only into the yard, but kicked open the front door to hide inside.

“Ah-ah! Come get me here, you bastards. Come, is taking my life worth risking your own?”

“Fool, of course it is!” said a woman, chasing him into the house. And if that were the end of it, I might have let the two of them hash out their issues.

But I third person started tracking mud in, and then a fourth, and when it was eight, I’d just had it. Have you ever tried cleaning muddy footprints without water? It was something I could do with the wood chisel, but doing that without leaving marks on the floor would have been problematic. So rather than just move into a new house (if I could find one), I grew angry.

Their reckless chase was breaking pieces of furniture that I hadn’t gotten to yet.

.....

Again, I should have left. Instead, I headed downstairs. “What is the nature of this disturbance?” I asked.

“The corrupted one!” the man screamed. “Spare me his wrath!”

My wrath? I’d been reasonably controlled since arriving on this benighted island, I thought.

He fled, right into the arms of his pursuers. Remember the tetsubo, an iron rod with flanges almost to a point? Someone struck him across his head with one of those, and his story ended in a spray of blood and bone.

“That was a needless mess.” I said, “You could have at least taken him outside.”

The crowd looked at me, eyes wide open.

“It’s back!” a woman screamed, “The horror is back!” And yet, instead of doing anything about it, she fled.

What... they’d just killed someone, where did this lack of resolve come from? Probably some human thing I didn’t understand.

But just in case, I scanned my reticule across my left hand, safely strapped inside my shield.

[Person.]

[Monster.]

[You. (Further information available)]

“He’s smaller than I expected.” the man with the tetsubo said, stepping forward.

Idiot. He had the build of a blacksmith, but no armor. He used his weapon with both hands, while I had...

Crap. I pulled my blade from inventory, but while I was still pulling it from its sheathe, he attacked.

Of course, he attacked; a two handed chunk of metal COULD be used to parry, but is far more effective on the assault.

The man wasn’t champion level, but he was clearly skilled, placing the weight of his full body behind his swings, dancing backward any time I darted in. He wasn’t bad; it’s just that I knew the house far better than he ever would.

I fell back through a doorway, into the workshop, jumping up onto a stool. The fool obligingly took a swing at it, doubtless hoping to send me sprawling.

Another leap, and how could I miss his head from there?

[You have scored a YELLOW hit for double damage!] my System informed me.

The tetsubo had become stuck on the edge of a table; I was behind him. I quick thrust, and that part of the fight was all over.

The witnesses scattered; some to hide in the house, but the bulk of whom fled to the lawn. Some beyond, but most found their courage in numbers and the sunlight.

Still, the crowd fell back a step when I emerged, spattered in blood.

But only a step.

“He killed Gwonlong Minh!” a woman accused.

I swept my reticule over the crowd, gaining little useful information. There would be an outbreak of Red Mist after this incident, something they’d probably also blame on me.

“I plead self defense.” I said. “There is no need...”

I moved my shield to deflect an arrow. Damn it! If this crowd got organized, I was done for. I longed for an ability like what the fish-men who attacked us on board the Wanton Sharkbite, the vessel that brought us here.

[Ability: Wave of Fear is locked. Develop your empathic abilities to unlock.]

I considered charging the archer, but she had positioned herself well, with three people between herself and me. I moved instead to the side, trying to block her line of sight.

It didn’t stop a second arrow, and I wasn’t going to keep dodging until her luck proved better than mine. I charged, bounding over a spear-tip to strike.

It wasn’t a critical, but the woman wailed, and fell back, abandoning her spear. Whatever else the people in this crowd were, they weren’t all warriors.

Those whose morale hadn’t broken moved to keep me engaged. A walking stick, a rusty sword, a horse crop... not everything they used could be considered a weapon. But that said, there was blunt and piercing and cutting (which my System usually called Lacerating rather than Slashing).

But this was how I had trained, ringed about by enemies, each waiting to strike when my shield would move elsewhere. I’d had only a knife, and been forbidden to injure my trainers.

Now?

Now I lay about me, using my spinning inertia to line up strikes.

I killed none of them, though I had my share of criticals. I took wounds as well, a bruised shoulder, the tip of a shovel that cracked a rib, a cut across my kneecap that exposed bone.

At least the one time the archer engaged me, she struck one of her fellows.

But that level of commotion, for that length of time? It was unavoidable for a dozen guards to show up, shouting and posturing.

The crowd around the crowd dissolved, and then the people attacking me.

I could have run. I should have.

[You have 56/80 health.]

Instead, I swung Heart’s Protector, bringing my wrist into contact with the edge of my shield. It was crude, but it got most of the blood off the blade, enough that I could put the blade back into inventory.

“You are under arrest.” one of the guardsmen said. Two of them remained. The others had split off to chase the runners.

I might have won, had I fought there. But I didn’t, instead tugging off my damaged shield to leave it sprawling in the mud and gore.

“It should bear the black band.” the second guard said. “We should kill it right now and be done with the matter.”

“It would save us the paperwork.” the first guard agreed, instead pulling out a set of heavy steel manacles.

I nodded. There was one path, however unlikely, that didn’t end in my fighting an entire castle city full of trained warriors. “I submit to your authority, honored sir. I am under arrest.”

They didn’t react, even after the cuffs were on my wrists and ankles.

“It has to be a trick.” the second guard said. “We should kill him now.”

The first shook his head. “There is no honor in killing prisoners. This way, criminal scum.”

At Might rating eight, one can break lighter grades of steel. There was nothing light about the cuffs I wore; in fact, the shackles were loose around my limbs, but not so loose that I could just slide them off.

Some of the populace they led me through cheered. Some threw rocks and mud. Some just stared at me, as though they expected me to vomit a mass of venomous snakes.

No such luck on that, although the growth of venom glands and the other structures to use them was almost half done. Almost.

There were curses as well, some of them properly formed and even powered. I’d like to say that I dealt with all of those, and it would be the truth. A truth accomplished after they had me in a basement cell, yes, but I discovered a new use for the Jaws of Anger.

It wasn’t that impressive of a cell, with bars of bamboo and a raw earthen floor. Other guards appeared with a man I’d put a leg wound on and a pregnant woman, who also went into my cell.

“You can’t do this!” she protested. “He’ll eat us!”

“My leg.” the man begged, “At least let a medic in to see me.”

“I can treat that, if you’ll let me.” I said.

“Stay away from me!” he said.

And that’s how it was, for twenty minutes. I sat by the wall, they sat by the door.

“I won’t lose my leg just because some moron guards refuse to keep me properly.” he relented. “Treat my leg, monster.”

I pulled out a long bandage, one of a set treated with ... well, I didn’t have garlic and ginseng and comfrey. Let’s just say that worked.

And then we resumed our places and stared at each other.

I’m not sure if your System allows this. I had discovered that mine allowed you to place multiple labels upon an ability. Jaws of Anger, Blade of Anger, and Aura Strike are all the same ability, although I eventually settled on Jaws of Wrath.