Chapter 3
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A young boy quickly opened his eyes before gasping for air. The young boy's body was covered with blood and his clothes were torn apart. Although it was dark there was a large flame to his right and he could see all around him. Dead bodies littered the ground and there were a group of stocky men tossing them one by one into the bonfire. Judging by their lack of a reaction, the men didn't seem to hear the young boy.
"This one was clearly a beauty before she was split in two." One of the stocky men stood still for a bit and looked at the two halves he was carrying. "It's a shame that the boss killed her and didn't leave a whole body."
This rough man's comment caused some of the other men to look at him in disgust. One of the other men disgusted by him replied, "What? You'd do a corpse? I knew you had odd taste when you did that granny but this is a new low even for you."
"I never said I'd be the one to do her. I'm just saying that it was a shame because it'd leave more women for the rest of us. I know for a fact that one or two of you did that n.o.blewoman's corpse when the boss played with her too roughly; and this one's face is nearly as beautiful as that n.o.blewoman was." The stocky man then tossed the two halves into the fire.
The face illuminated by the flames was one familiar to the young boy. Searching his memories, he could tell that this was his mother. A sudden wave of pain went through his head but the little boy knew that he couldn't make a sound. There were two sets of memories inside his head. One that he was very familiar with and another that seemed to have just forced its way inside of him. Although he tried to remain completely silent, the little boy couldn't help but whimper due to the intense pain. Quiet enough to not be heard by the rough guys in front of him but just loud enough to be heard by anybody close to him.
"A survivor, huh?" A gravelly voice came from behind the little boy and the little boy could feel that the back of his neck was being held by a large hand. "Looks like you guys missed one!" The man with a gravelly voice laughed and lifted
The little boy looked around while being hauled. The village he grew up in was devastated. The houses that weren't broken into and covered in blood were instead up in flames. There was even a small pile of intestines near a large bloodstain. Although the little boy wouldn't have known what someone's organs looked like yesterday he was now well-aware of their appearance thanks to the new memories in his head. The visuals were already terrible but the smell made him feel nauseous--if he had eaten anything since this morning then perhaps he would have thrown it up.
After reaching a large tent that was erected away from the village, the gravelly-voiced man dropped the little boy onto the ground. The little boy made a small sound as if in pain when landing. Then the gravelly-voiced man spoke. "Here he is, boss. Just like you ordered. One scrawny kid to toss in that hole."
"Where did you get this kid, Balder? Although he's a bit too thin you can see by his appearance that he's not from an ordinary family. We've already got enough trouble because you guys targeted a n.o.blewoman's carriage." The guy that everyone called boss had a large beard and wore a set of armor unlike everyone else's; chainmail and a proper metal helmet that seemed to be made from iron. The rest of the men wore a gambeson and leather armor; barely enough to protect them from a small amount of damage--a few of them wore cloth hats and hoods but they'd barely block the rain, let alone an arrow.
"I'm not sure where the kid is from but I'd bet that he lived here. The kid was found in the village in that pile of corpses. The clothes are cheap and he's as thin as can be so even if he has a n.o.ble's blood in his veins they either don't know about him or don't care. Also, weren't you take first dibs on that n.o.blewoman?" This man named Balder was a decent bandit but didn't have a good head on his shoulders. The man he and the rest of the bandits called Boss had very little patience and hated to be questioned. The leader had been annoyed with Balder for quite some time and felt that Balder had too much sway with the other bandits. As someone with enough strength to build his own small army, he naturally felt like he was a higher existence than his men and that they shouldn't be following someone else's orders.
The boss stood up looked down on Balder, glaring at him. Balder began sweating and before he could say anything to his defense he felt a large hand on his neck. "If you idiots hadn't brought her back then I wouldn't have ever laid my hands on her. If I had let her go then even our appearance would have been known. You know the rules. Anybody we can't bring with us has to die." With those words he squeezed even harder, causing Balder to be unable to breathe. After a couple of minutes, Balder wasn't moving and was knocked unconscious. "You there, boy. Do you want to live?"
Although the little boy was terrified, he knew that he had to respond or else he'd die. With a quiet voice he gave his response, "Yes, sir."
"In this world you're either killed or you're the one doing the killing. If you want to survive then there's only one path in front of you. Kill." The bandit leader cut the little boy's restraints and then held the crude dagger out to him. "Take it. Kill this man in front of you and you get to live."
Although the bandit leader didn't plan on killing the little boy either way, he still felt like testing him. If the boy killed Balder then he'd be more useful in the bandit leader's eyes; a young boy that knew how to kill could be used as a fake hostage that kills his saviors or as bait to attract unwitting victims. Either way the kid would be forced to follow him and become his tool but if he pa.s.sed this test then one day he would have the potential to become more than just a tool.