Chương 13: -13- Witnesses

Calder's heart started hammering as his body coursed with adrenaline at the rapidly escalating situation. He took stock of his immediate surroundings the best he could. Edmund had slowed the cart slightly and was squinting ahead at figures Calder couldn't even make out yet. Still have some time before they are a factor. Edmund must have some scouting talents, smart choice for a man in his profession. Now this fucker…

The shifty man in the cart was on the small bench across from Calder's bench directly next to the fat tailor. The assassin still had a straight blade held tightly in his palm, the blade turned inward to hide under his forearm. He was Calder's first problem. He was almost certainly in cahoots with the people ahead.

Calder would bet the man's job was to slit the driver's throat the second the others acted to stop Edmund from simply blasting past them; stopping a cart driven by a massive horse like this was much harder than most would expect. And just falling a tree in the road or setting up a roadblock in a desolate stretch like this was too much of a dead giveaway. Helen, damn her, broke the tense silence.

"What's wrong, Calder? You look awfully ruffled." She was staring straight at his severe, nearly snarling expression. Calder cursed quietly when the assassin glanced at him with wide eyes, realizing the gig was up. Calder had started leaning forward towards the man getting ready to lunge without even meaning to. They both moved at the same time. Calder didn't even try to grab his sword in the tight confines of the cart; he threw his hands forward, one slamming the man back into his seat, fouling his strike.

He hit hard enough to make the entire cart shudder violently. His other hand landed roughly across the blade-wielding hand's forearm. Calder leaned into his foe, pinning him in place the best he could. They struggled for a few heartbeats while Helen blathered in a panic, "Calder, what are you doing? Unhand Hank!" Edmund looked back and quickly took in what was happening. He acted immediately.

"Shut the fuck up, Helen!" Edmund said sternly and slowed the horse a bit more without making it obvious.

"You got him, lad?" He hissed back. Calder was too busy to respond. Dark mana flashed in Hank's dagger-wielding hand, and suddenly the blade was in his other palm, sailing straight for Calder's neck. Calder ducked and raised his shoulder, taking the stab into the meat of his arm Thankfully the assassin dind't have much strength backing up the attack and versus Calders defenses it was superficial.

He let go and viciously grabbed hold of Hank by both shoulders, tearing him from his seat and slamming him down onto the floor of the cart, shattering some of the floor planks. While the man was still sputtering for breath, Calder slammed a fist down into his face, bouncing his skull off the floor and pushing teeth inwards. He stayed low trying to keep the brigands in the distance from seeing the scuffle. He shifted his knee onto Hanks' chest and pushed down while he tried to wrestle the dagger from his hand.

Helen was starting to wail in panic as the life-or-death fight escalated; the blessed tailor realized she was going to alert the brigands and slapped a shaking hand over the old shrew's mouth. Hanks' hand flashed with mana, trying to move the dagger again.

"No, you fucking don't," Calder growled. He adjusted his grip and grabbed both of the man's wrists, twisting inward with a grunt. The sound of splintering bones and muffled screams of agony was deafening in the back of the cart. Calder let out some ragged breaths, keeping the now maimed assassin pinned securely under him.

"Fuck, that was, fuck… Edmund he is down for now." Calder whispered as quietly as he could manage past heaving breaths and his pounding heart. He could have used the grasp or Dectus, but he did not want these people to see that, especially Hellen. There was a moment of quiet other than the nearly breathless sobs of the brigand before Edmund halfway turned to reply while still trying to look unbothered.

"How do we play this lad?" Calder thought about it for another few rattling strides. Then nodded to himself.

"Can you tell their levels, Edmund? Edmund nodded.

"Aye, it ain't great. My talents are awful basic, but two of them are worker classes round level 15, so they would be strong. But the feller in the front is a combat class about the same level, something to do with bashing, and he is wearing some real armor." Alright, that's not good… I can win. I know I can…but not without help. He glanced at Dectus, who was pacing back and forth just behind the cart, twirling his sword in anticipation.

"And lad…they have a horse; I can't just rush them." Edmund added gravely. Calder cursed quietly; if they hadn't had a horse, Calder could have just fended them off as they rushed past. Now he would have to deal with them at least long enough to give the cart some room. He nodded to himself. And then slapped the nearly unconscious man below him to get his attention.

"Hey, what's your leader's name, the guy in the armor? And how many more are there?" Calder asked roughly. Hank hissed in pain, and his only response was to try and spit on Calder. Calder let out a great heaving sigh. Alright, fuck it, I'm a big scary lad; let's lean into that nonsense. If I come out of the cart hauling a screaming bandit with me, they will be a lot more worried about that than the cart.

"Edmund, go forward casually. When we get alongside them, I'm getting out, and you are leaving." The cart master looked back incredulously.

"Lad, I can't see your level for some reason, but… are you sure?" Calder nodded grimly. And the cart settled into an awkward state as they rolled forward, like nothing was wrong. The tailor still practically gagging Hellen and the brigand with shattered forearms cursing up a storm. A gruff voice called out from ahead, "Hail travellers!" Edmund shook his head and kept his cool, steering the cart slightly farther away from the fast-approaching trio.

They hadn't made any moves yet, calmly standing on the side of the road, obviously waiting for their assassin to do his job. Calder got a good look at them and used His Spotter for the first time, pointing it in their direction and tapping the dark glass ring on the top. It warmed on his forearm before projecting a small illusion directly into his eye.

It was extremely uncomfortable making him blink in pain at the sudden glare, but he knew why the enchantment worked that way; it was a hell of a lot more subtle than an illusion everyone could see. The two backups wearing light chainmail over thick loggers clothes were first. One had an axe and the other who had a mace and shield. [Joel Lendwood] (lvl16) [Woodsman] Hmm, a common gather class probably does have some enhanced strength and toughness, like Edmund mentioned.

[Rick Lendwood] (lvl 14) [Brick Breaker] That explains the mace; mining classes can be mean in combat. Need to watch out for him, and huh, are they brothers? A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation. The last figure was much more imposing-looking. He wore a slightly mismatched suit of plate mail armor, tinges of rust, and a noticeable creak when he moved, speaking to its overall disrepair.

Plate mail was relatively rare, though, meaning he was almost certainly a deserter who had done well enough in the war to get himself granted some better equipment. The tower shield across his back and the flail at his side, however, did not look poorly maintained. Calder knew if he got hit squarely by that flail, his adventures might be over before they even began. [Roran Kullen] (lvl 18) [Concussive Wrathmace] Calder took a deep breath. This might be rough; that didn't sound like a common class title.

Roran had edged up to the side of the road, his face unreadable beneath the slitted helm. He must have realized something was wrong since the cart was still rolling. Calder grabbed ahold of Hank by the ankle and looked at Edmund.

"No matter what, keep going. I'll meet you at the rest stop." Then he stood up to his full height and looked over the edge of the cart at the bandits. There was a moment of stunned silence as the bandits slowly drew their weapons. Calder nodded at them like that was what he wanted. Then he stepped off the back of the cart, landing on the ground with an audible thud. Hank was dangling in one hand, screaming bloody murder. Calder held his massive blade still in its sheath in the other.

He slowly walked towards the bandits, dragging Hank across the ground as he did so to make sure their attention was on him as the cart started clattering off into the distance. Rick looked at the armored figure in concern, then back at Calder just standing in the center of the road with their broken companion in his grasp.

"Boss?" He asked Roran in an almost panicked tone. Roran spun his flail aimlessly before speaking.

"Shite, you're a big fucker. Don't suppose you are going to be reasonable and hand over your sword and…what's left of Hank there…Hell's, I'm hiring if you can do that to a man." He gestured at Hank's whimpering form. Calder grunted and eyed where Dectus was positioned slightly ahead and to the left of him. Instead of answering the question, he glanced at the cart again before letting his sheath fall off the massive great sword.

"My sister and her husband make this exact trip in a cart just like that twice a month for supplies. How many witnesses do you usually leave?" Joel nervously tightened his hands on the axe.

"Don't think he's going to join the merry band." He said, attempting gallows humor. Roran nodded.

"Don't think so either," he answered, then turned to Calder.

"What big fella ya too scared to remember what you are supposed to say in a situation like this? Normally the do-gooders ask us to surrender first. Something, something justice." Calder let a trace of the beyond escape his grasp and sink into hank's flesh; he channeled it into his captive for another few seconds, the man's screaming becoming more and more panicked as a circle of ice formed around Calder. He could feel the beyond overpowering the man's meager physical defenses.

Finally, he swung Hank forward, tossing the man at the feet of his allies. His bottom half shattered into frozen chunks across the ground at their feet. Eliciting curses and gasps of horror.

"I can't leave any witnesses either." Calder said truthfully and then lunged towards the leftmost foe Joel. The dramatic display had the intended effect on Joel. The man was staring in open-mouthed horror at his half-shattered companion scattered across his feet and woefully unprepared for the sudden violence. The others, however, charged in at Calder. Calder channeled Make Material as his stab crossed the distance.

Dectus flashed into reality next to his sword, stepping under his stab and swirling into a slash that deflected a mace aimed straight for his face. Calder's sword tip punched straight through Joel's chainmail and his sternum, stopping as it hit his ribs. He wrenched it free and dodged to the side, turning to face the other two. There was an abrupt pause in the fight as Dectus faded to immateriality again and Joel fell to his knees gurgling briefly while clawing at his chest. Roran muttered a dark string of curses.

"I'm going to fucking end you and whatever unholy bullshit that was." Rick wasn't so composed. He tore his eyes from his brother's corpse and screamed in incoherent rage before charging past Roran.

"Don't you fucking idiot!" Roran tried. Calder blocked Roran's wild overhand with his blade, sending a jolt of pain down his arms. Then he cracked the hilt of his sword straight across the man's face, sending him tumbling sideways. Roran tried to intervene, but he was too late. Calder swept his blade down in a brutal diagonal slash that hit right on the man's collarbone, crunching down nearly a handspan. He put his boot on Rick's chest and pushed to wrench his blade free.

Roran rushed in to take advantage of his immobility. Calder used Make Material again, and Dectus flashed into action, parrying a pair of skillful flail blows that would have brutalized him. Roran shifted back a step and unslung his massive tower shield, circling cautiously. Then he exploded in swinging the flail in a maddening flurry. The head of the flail exploded with mana multiple times midswing, redirecting it in impossible ways.

Calder backpedaled madly, barely blocking a few blows and taking a savage glancing blow to his thigh that tore open flesh and bruised it down to the bone. He managed to stop the onslaught by stepping in and throwing a vicious elbow; it painfully bounced off the man's shield but staggered him slightly. Calder glanced at Dectus, who nodded. Calder nodded back; he was almost out of grasp of the beyond. He needed to win fast or this man would tear him apart without Dectus's help.

[Grasp of the beyond: 12/100] Dectus shimmered into reality beside Calder, and they both charged. Dectus attacked the flail arm side aggressively, stepping in and showering fluid accurate slashes on the arm and weapon. They slid across the plate armor with an unholy keenness but didn't do any lasting damage. Calder squared his feet and lashed out as hard as he could at the bottom of the shield with his boot, twisting it forward.

Then with a roar he brought his sword all the way over his head in a downward chop not aimed at his opponent but at the edge of his shield. It landed with titanic force, sending lances of pain through Calder's hands. The shield spiraled out of Roaran's grasp as the leather handle simply ripped free from the force. Calder threw himself forward, tackling the man off his feet. They landed heavily in the snow beside the road. The flail head whizzed around powered by mana and cracked into Calder's back.

He gasped in pain and managed to pin that arm. Dectus suddenly was beside the scrabbling duo; he carefully lined his blade up above the armored man's helm and with one short, decisive thrust slid his blade tip through the man's visor. Hot blood spattered across Calder's face, and his foe's struggles almost instantly waned. Calder knelt there shaking in rage and pain; his back and thigh were on fire, and breathing hurt again. Dectus sputtered out next to him as his grasp of the beyond ran out.

Slowly Calder stumbled to his feet and looked around at the blood-soaked ground. I survived… I did it… I would have been dead without Dectus. A wave of essence rushed into Calder as the system granted him pure potential from a hard-won battle. [Joel Lendwood](lvl16) [Woodsman] [Slain] [Essence Gained] [Roran Kullen] (lvl 18) [Concussive Wrathmace] [Slain] [Essence Gained] [Rick Lendwood] (lvl 14) [Brick Breaker] [Slain] [Essence Gained] Calder wasn't quite done yet; he stumbled over to Hank.

The man was somehow still alive. He would almost certainly die soon, but it felt both cruel and foolish to Calder to just leave his broken body like this and trust his fate to the gods. One swift sword swing ended the man's suffering. Calder pointedly ignored the system notification and closed his eyes. He spent a good few minutes taking slow, calming breaths as the blood around him spread into the snow where it wasn't frozen solid from tranquility. Then Calder began looting the bodies.

They didn't have much worth taking; the armor was all too small for him, and the brother's weapons were rather shoddy. What he ended up grabbing was a small coin purse with nearly a gold crown's worth of silver. Some food rations. Roran' s flail and most importantly. He glanced at the steely grey and white horse stamping nervously in the distance. Calder did his best to scrub some of the blood off himself before approaching the already scared animal.

It tugged against the tree it was tied to, snorting into the cold air as he approached. It was a big bastard, something bred to pull carts or plow fields, not the sleek beasts he saw most people riding upon. Calder held up a hand and spoke quietly as he got closer to the animal.

"Hey, hey there, buddy, don't kick me in the fucking head, please. Everything already hurts enough." He stopped a pace away from it, letting it get used to him.

"Yeah, that's a bit better. So I have good news and bad news. Good news, you're saved! Bad news... I am not a light passenger… But you probably got stolen from some farmer's field somewhere, so you are no stranger to working for your meals, are you?" Calder stepped a bit closer and put his hand lightly on the horse's nose; it seemed to have calmed noticeably now. He fished around until he found some mostly fresh vegetables in the bandits' food supply.

After he had fed the horse a few questionable apples, the beast seemed to have fully accepted its new lot in life. He gave it a fond pat.

"Alright buddy, I think I need to go find somewhere safe to sit down and spend some essence.

"You mind hauling me there?" The horse snorted dubiously.