The Void Wolf

The sound of fighting echoed throughout the dark and deteriorated hallways of the fortress. Still, it didn’t deter Lance and Gerald who made their way in deeper, trying to pinpoint the exact location of the fight. The decrepit hallways led in different directions, either to dead ends or half built rooms. It attested to the fact that setting up a permanent foothold in the Great Forest was nearly impossible, for humans anyway. Elves had towns and cities that spanned the treetops.

Suddenly, the fortress slightly shook causing dust to fall from the ceiling.

Even after years of desertion the fortress showed no sign of collapsing just yet, giving an idea of how much money was put into its construction.

“Up ahead.” Gerald pointed to a room, the door just barely hung by the hinges. The pair stood on each side of the door, readying their weapons. The sound of fighting was much clearer and seemed to originate from this room. Lance used his fingers to signal Gerald who in response kicked the door down before raising his shield defensively. Lance followed immediately after but was met with an empty room with exception of two abnormally large holes in the ceiling and floor, both in the same position. The hole in the ceiling led to the ramparts while the hole in the floor led beneath the fortress.

“What the hell happened?” Lance said aloud. Almost as if the fortress was responding, more noise echoed from within the hole. Lance and Gerald looked at each other. They briefly estimated the fall distance before they jumped into the hole. They made an audible landing in the storeroom, its smashed shelves and cracked walls told the tale of a rough battle. In the corner of the room was a severed arm. Lance and Gerald were met with the gazes of four people, who stood in the middle of the storeroom. Two hairless men, in distressed red robes, the Slaver who was covered in wounds, and Ira, who was missing his right arm.

“The more the merrier.” Ira smiled brightly.

……………………………

Miserable. If you wanted to describe Ira in one word, it would be “Miserable”.His right arm was severed, his pants wore torn in several places, his shirt was ripped to shreds, his body was covered in gashes, and his legs were covered in deep cuts. Only his boots seemed to avoid most of the damage.

“I should really get some armor.” Ira thought aloud with an ever-present grin.

“Why the hell are you smiling?!” The Slaver ignored Lance and Gerald and cursed at Ira. The Slaver was both inwardly and outwardly disturbed.

No matter how many wounds were inflicted on Ira, he didn’t seem to be affected. Although he reacted to being hit, it would be a laugh or sarcasm, not screams or grunts. That wasn’t to say that Ira didn’t feel pain, it’s just after he went into the Void nothing could compare to the pain he experienced there. If he were to compare getting stabbed to the Void, it would be like having a scraped knee versus being skinned alive and set aflame.

“You should just.” “Give up and surrender.” “Our Master.” “Would be interested in you.” The two men identical looking men in red spoke in turns, also disregarding Lance and Gerald. If one looked close enough, it would appear they were also wounded, the red robes just made it incredibly hard to tell. One of the men in red made a grasping motion and congealed blood appeared in his hand. The blood resembled a serpent as it wriggled, growing longer and longer and when it stopped growing he swung it at Ira. Ira teleported, appearing further away, but-

A bloody hand the size of a child appeared from the ground and smacked Ira away with great force. Ira sailed through the air before crashing into a wall causing loose stones from the ceiling fell onto him, burying him under the rubble, kicking up dust in the process. This all happened very quickly, so it came as no surprise that Lance made his move. Lance charged towards the Slaver and slashed downwards, attempting to catch him off guard.

“Nice try.” The Slaver taunted as he blocked Lance’s attack.

“Now!” Lance shouted.

Gerald appeared behind Lance and swung his mace with an incredible ferocity. The Slaver was stuck between Lance’s sword and Gerald’s mace so he could only use his arm to shield his body. The heavy mace, shattered the slavers arm and rendered his left arm completely useless. Unless he could find a high level healer or some expensive medicine, he would be crippled for the rest of his life.

“Aaargh!” The Slaver dropped to the ground as his left arm hung limply. The two men in red only glanced at him, paying more attention to the corner Ira was in.

“You bald fucks! Come and kill these bastards!” The Slaver cursed, the two identical men could have killed Lance and Gerald without much effort, but they focused on Ira instead as he was the bigger threat.

The rubble piled up in the corner shook, slowly Ira climbed out. His hair was disheveled, his clothes were torn, he was covered in blood, and his ribs could be seen poking out of his chest. It had to be said, if Ira was a normal person he would be dead at least fifteen times by now.

Ira stood expressionless, with his eyes closed.

‘You...aren’t...looking...so...good…’’ A childlike and distorted whisper rang out in Ira’s head, with tone filled with mockery.

As Ira’s eyes slowly opened, there was a faint crimson, circling around the edge of his irises.

‘Would you...like some...help?’‘

“Ira! What are you doing!?” Lance shout interrupted Ira’s thoughts and snapped him back to reality. Ira closed and then opened his eyes again, this time not trace of crimson could be seen as they reverted back to the bright yellow they were before.

“Right where were we?” Ira started to move forward while Lance and Gerald secured the Slaver. Only the two identical men in red needed to be taken care of.

Ira raised his left arm and threw the sword at the closest man in red, the force behind the sword was immense as it was at the man’s chest before he could react and pierced through his red robes and sent him flying backwards.

Ira then turned his attention towards the remaining man but he was already on guard.

“Blood Serpent!”

A six-foot long red serpent crawled from under the robes of the man in red and slithered towards Ira. A blood serpent was a type of black magic conjuring skill, it would produce a serpent that would attack wounded targets with venom. The serpent went into an attack position but was immediately met with a lightning fast hand, Ira grabbed the serpent and crushed its neck, dropping its lifeless body to the floor. Ira was now in front of the remaining man in red and threw a punch directly at his chest. He shot backwards, before falling and even the sounds of bones breaking could be heard as he landed.

“You fucking idiot!” The Slaver cursed at Ira. “You don’t know who you’ve messed with, the man I work for, the man they serve. He’s not someone you can just-”

The sound of chewing interrupted the Slaver. Ira began eating pastries and didn’t even pay attention to what he was saying. After finishing it, Ira looked towards Lance and Gerald, who were still in shock by just how strong Ira was..

“Could one of you grab my arm?” Ira said with a chuckle before using his left arm to point to the severed arm in the corner.

“Uh…Y-yeah…” Gerald stood up and went to retrieve the severed arm while Lance watched the Slaver closely.

All of a sudden the men in robes started moving. Ira’s eyes darted over when he noticed the first sign of movement, anything within close proximity of him usually couldn’t escape his senses.

“Hey! You guys still want to fight-”

“Blood Recollection.” The men chanted at the same time, as their bodies seemed to melt into puddles of blood, slipping through the cracks in floor before disappearing completely.

“Well that’s too bad.” Ira shook his head.

“Nice friends you got there.” Ira said to the Slaver.

The Slaver turned pale, he knew his only hope of escape lied with those two men, after the crimes he committed he’d face the most brutal torture before death. He planned to gain power from the man who controlled the two men in red, and then run rampant, living as he wanted, but now it was impossible.

“Ha…ha…ha…ha” The Slaver laughed dryly, it would be wrong to assume the Kingdom ignored on the advancement of torture methods, finding it too archaic to invest in. Truthfully, the torture methods integrated with magic and as the magic became more advance the torture did too.

From experimental gravity inducement arrays, pressing down on someone with immense force and preventing them from moving a single muscle, to test subjects for potions that could turn flesh inside out, or to using pain enhancing poison, flaying the skin of a prisoner off one layer at a time with any type of elemental magic, then healing the prisoner and doing it again.

Most of these methods were practice for magicians and alchemists. Who would be willing to test how lethal a spell or potion was? Although they could use creatures, it was safer and easier to use a prisoner. The problem was only prisoners who committed heinous crimes would be subjected to the torture, and since the amount of people who wanted to use prisoners out numbered the actual prisoners who could be tortured, there was a fierce bidding war for prisoners who committed horrible crimes. Giving the Kingdom a source of revenue that wasn’t a small amount at all.

Gerald clumsily handed Ira his severed arm and took a few steps back.

Lance frowned as he began to speak.“Sorry…about your arm…We might not be able to make it back fast enough to find a healer to put it back…” He trailed off as he was dumbstruck.

Ira shoved his right arm back in place and held tightly before he closed his eyes and concentrated intensely. Very soon after he opened his eyes and moved his right hand. The arm reconnected, leaving a noticeable red scar.

“How did you do that?!” Gerald was stunned.

Ira produced another pastry and ate it before speaking. “It’s a secret.” He put a finger over his lips in a shushing motion as smiled at Gerald.

“Alright now let’s go. You and Lance can carry the Slaver.”

Ira dusted the crumbs from his hands before moving towards a door and started to leave.

Lance and Gerald recovered from their shock, tied up the slaver up,  and quickly followed after Ira.

……………………………

Sarah, Valerie, and Zella were taking care of the captured innocents when they noticed the guys emerge. Lance and Gerald were fine, the Slaver was bound in rope, a listless expression on his face, and Ira was worse for wear, but his steps remained steady and he looked unbothered by his injuries.

The Slaver cackled as he remembered something. “What are you gonna do about those curses kid?” The Slaver revealed a gloating expression. Although he was in for hell, at least he’d be able to see Ira go down before him.

Ira looked at the Slaver while eating, he shrugged his shoulders and kept walking. Although the Slaver was disappointed by his reaction but he still felt a little better.

“There were people with minor injuries but everyone should be more or less ok.” Valerie said.

“Lance, we need to leave now.” Sarah spoke, with a hint of anxiety on her face.

“We should at least let them rest for a second.” Lance responded. Of course, he was the one who wanted rest.

“You don’t get it, the smell of blood is too strong, if we don’t leave soon we might have to deal with some monsters.” Although she spoke in a low tone, most people still heard her and understood what position they were in. Lance also realized they had no time to spare.

“Alright everyone, we will lead you back to the capital, as long as we stay together we should be safe! Everyone form a group, and get into a line. Sarah and Ira will protect the take the front, Valerie and Zella will watch the sides, Gerald and I will watch the rear. Let’s move!” Lance shouted.

Soon the a group was made up of around twenty civilians who were scared but excited to get home. They quickly left the fortress, carefully avoiding the bodies of the dead bandits.

………………………………………..