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"Why are you looking at me! Stop, stop, stop. Get away!" The Altan soldier dropped his spear and fled, screaming that the eyes were chasing him.
Fear Knife was a wonderful skill; its effects were the same as its name, generating fears that increased with the severity of the wound, unlike Pain Knife that ramped up the pain with each wound until healed or the effect ran out.
"What did you do?" the Coalition soldier yelled, bewildered at his opponent’s meltdown.
"Ended your stupid fight. Now that he is gone, you can go." Yet the man kept his sword in hand. Furthermore, he hardened his stance and crept towards Axel. The reason became clear once he followed the soldier’s eyes. The Coalition officer had signaled for help. "This man is going to jail for roughing up a woman. That is the law."
It was the wrong thing to say.
The soldier charged, sword thrusting at Axel’s midsection. The thrust was skillful and without Kevia’s training sessions it would have run him through as if he were a pig on a spit. He was not the same teenager from a month ago. He was a level 3 thug and the last threat he’d faced had giant claws and a body that curled around hills. This man was no real threat.
Axel let his mana flare, freezing the man with the pressure of his power. Hesitate and die. He repeated his favorite motto as he plunged his dagger into the soldier’s thigh. Pain knife wasn’t needed when a dagger was hilt deep in the thigh. The soldier clutched his knee and screamed after Axel removed his dagger and the pressure of his mana.
The crowd gawked at the show he put on. The young boys and girls were pleased by the excitement and others exchanged coins, having taken bets on the result. He frowned as it appeared more money was lost than gained. They had bet against him. And to think, a month ago they cheered his arrival.
Wanting to avoid trouble but instead starting it, Axel sighed and took the soldier and officer by the arms. Now with an additional prisoner, he dragged them into the jailhouse and was surprised by a familiar face. "Dara, have not seen you in a while. How have you been?"
Dara sat in a chair in front of one of the cells, legs crossed and eating an unfamiliar purple fruit. Her guardsman uniform of faded black fit unruffled in stark contrast to her dirty leather chest armor that hugged her chest. The engraved sword sheath at her side hung loosely but her hand gripped the handle firmly as she ate. Turning her gaze to him, she said, "I’ve been busy."
He waited for her to elaborate and when that failed, he asked her. "Busy doing what?"
Seeing that he was not going to let her finish her fruit in peace she engaged him in speech. "Almost as soon as the whore woman recruited you and your friend as bodyguards a merchant hired us too."
"Is that what you’re doing at the jailhouse, guarding merchants? And whatever happened to Garman?"
Dara tilted her head to the cells, packed full of grubby men and woman. The cells were so packed that both genders shared the same space. "Some of them tried to steal into our client’s home. As for Garman, who knows what that man is up to."
"Whatever he is doing, it is probably profitable."
She nodded in agreement.
One of the prisoners, to his surprise, entered the conversation. "What else are we supposed to do?" a dirty-faced man said, arms sticking between the gaps of the cell bars.
"Work?"
"What work? I tried the armies but they don’t want a man whose ribs show."
"OK, how about street cleaning or hard labor?"
"All labor is hard labor," the prisoner pointed out. "And the streets have already been cleaned by people like me looking for anything of use."
"Right, so what about..." Damn, he did not know what else a poor person could do for money in this world. As desperate as the world he came from was, there were charities and government aid of some sort. "You got a point. Does not mean you can go around stealing stuff. All it does is provide work for this charming lady." Axel nudged his chin in Dara’s direction, who was now finishing her purple fruit, getting the juices all over her leather armor.
"We all have loans to pay." This voice came from a female he could not see in a cell further into the room. Why was he even listening to these people? "If we don’t pay up the thugs come visit us at our homes."
Thugs. His insides churned at the word. The people shaking down these poor folks shared the same class as him. A class that gave him the power of violence. His skills, Pain Knife and Fear Knife, originated from this class.
He raised his voice so the woman could hear him clearly. "Are these thugs combat worshipers and do they have the class of thug?"
"Some of them are and some do," she answered his questions in order. "The ones that do display their tattoos arrogantly to intimidate us."
He looked at his own tattoo, peering into the patterns in a trance until the lines morphed into readable text.
Name: Axel, Level: 3, Class: Thug, Mana: 21, Skills: Pain Knife(0.5) Fear Knife(0.5) Malice Seal(X), EXP: 47.
Only his Experience had changed from the last big fight he’d entered. The only note of worth was that the combination skill he and Rayner used only appeared when they were together. His training sessions, while useful, refused to make a dent in his EXP and, therefore, his level.
Staring too long at one’s own palm was considered a sign of vanity in this world, so was displaying it frequently like the thugs were doing. He placed his hand into his pocket before Dara or the watching prisoners made note of it.
Nobody spoke. Instead, the searching eyes of the prisoners loomed on him. Even Dara sat silent, her full attention on him, waiting.
"Can I help you with something?" he said, wondering why he was getting all the funny looks.
"Do something about it," said the dirty-faced man.
There was that request again. "What is this something you want me to do and why should I do it?"
"You’re that guy who helped the merchant caravan with the refugees. You did something then. Do something now."
"Again, you fail to describe this something to me. Plus, others helped too, like Dara over here."
Dara responded with a firm shake of her head. "Oh, no, these guys did most of the work. Planning the battle and leading the charges. Real hero this one." She was smiling, an unfamiliar expression on her.
"Well that something I’m going to do is nothing." At that, the prisoners made moans of complaint as if he were a politician informing them that, yes, there would be a tax increase. And did someone just boo him?
Before he could retaliate with whining of his own a commotion came from outside. Dara was already out her seat and out the door while he trailed behind her.
The streets were chaos. Men and women, some carrying children, ran away screaming.
Dara grabbed a man to ask what was going on. "Monsters," the man said, then ran away.
"They are running in the opposite direction of the walls," Axel said. "That means the monsters have not entered Ridgehill yet."
"You go. I have to check my client and find Barny."
"Now? we could use you outside."
"We all have jobs to do. I fight inside. You fight outside. Panicking citizens does not make for a good defense."
She was right. His experience fighting off the siege against a town he stayed at during his first quest bore this truth. Accepting she had to go, he wished her luck and went on his way toward the sounds of screams and clashing blades.
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