The furious roars and accusations of the mountain bandits, demanding to know my purpose and identity, did not affect me. They saw nothing but a strange punk who couldn't grasp the impending doom he was about to face, while I viewed them as nothing more than sacrifices for my lost freedom. The notion that a single misspoken moment had shattered my dreams of living a fulfilling and liberated life further numbed my senses, disconnecting me from the material world.
As silent tears unemotionally cascaded down my stoic face, several blazing fireballs encircled me, then soared towards my unwilling "offerings." The closest waves of bandits disintegrated into fiery ash, while those approaching behind them retreated with trepidation, their trembling weapons held high. I offered them my condolences with eerie calm, "Do not fret, poor souls. Your lives will not go to waste. I shall sacrifice your souls as a tribute to accompany my departed freedom in the afterlife."
Rather than providing solace to these misguided souls, my display only served to exacerbate their fear. Many of them made a frantic dash into the cave, desperately seeking shelter from the impending doom. The weaker ones fell onto their backs, foaming at the mouth and soiling themselves while pointing at me in sheer terror. I sighed internally, realizing my attempts had been in vain.
As a devout man of faith and a self-proclaimed emissary of the Church of Freedom, I had valiantly strived to fulfill my sacred duties and guide these nonbelievers onto the righteous path. However, instead of embracing the teachings of our gospel, they futilely and cowardly tried to evade their destiny. I spoke with unwavering conviction, "Because of your heedless actions, you led an innocent child to make a mistake that cost him his freedom. It is only just that you atone for this transgression with your lives and ensure that the spirit denied its chance at freedom in this world shall not be alone as it departs the mortal plane."
As if touched by divine enlightenment, the once-frightened souls, who had been foaming at the mouth just moments before, felt their willpower wane and gave in to the inevitable, collapsing to the ground as their lives ebbed away.
My ever-present and pitiful companion mentally exclaimed "Did you just scare someone to death?!"
Not someone, my dear hapless Light; I merely guided a few wayward souls to their next step in life. Praise be to the Lord.
"Alright, you're starting to freak me out!", was the only response I received from my poor friend.
Fear not, my woeful companion. Once I am done imparting the teachings of my Lord here, I shall assist you on your spiritual path to embrace Freedomanimty, and with open arms, welcome you into our church.
"Please don't," came the sorrowful and meek reply from my gracious benefactor.
I paid my friend no heed, for I had more pressing matters to attend to. With a sense of calm and casual determination, I strolled into the enemy den, fully aware that no miracles could save these lost children from the might of my Lord. Even if I were to commit sacrilege and fail here, I was prepared to be replaced by a more capable and devout follower to ensure our Lord's message was deeply ingrained into these infidels.
I couldn't help but pity them as their fear-filled screams echoed across the base, making it seem as if I were some arsonistic psychopath to an outsider. However, such trials were not enough to sway my unwavering faith. True believers of Freedomanimty knew that our Lord occasionally tested us, both spiritually and physically, to ensure the sincerity of our beliefs. As a priest with many children who admired me, I was determined never to let my resolve waver.
Needless to say, no amount of adrenaline could assist these pitiable beings in their desperate attempts to escape. Their stamina had been thoroughly drained through their excessive indulgence in women and booze. Even if, in some unfortunate alternate reality, I weren't a Freedomer, I would still fail to comprehend the appeal and attraction people had for these materialistic prospects.
To any enlightened Freedomer, it was abundantly clear that true Freedom was unattainable for someone tied down by a partner, their lives bound together by an invisible chain. As for alcohol, it had the insidious ability to strip individuals of their focus and perspective on the world, robbing them of their capacity for sound judgment. Freedomanimty, in contrast, demanded purity as a fundamental tenet for the unaltered pursuit of freedom.
Empowered by the divine grace bestowed upon me by my Lord, I conjured balls of holy flame that relentlessly pursued anyone within my line of sight. These divine flames bathed them in a sacred inferno before ultimately reducing their physical vessels to ash, thereby releasing their souls from the mortal realm.
My vision grew sharper as the waves of bandits combusted and diminished around me. Yet, I sensed a few had managed to retreat into the inner barracks, where I could hear a vulgar commotion echoing. Instead of immediately pursuing the source of the noise, I first directed my gaze to the pitiable scene before me.
Many women and ladies of varying ages, young and mature, were strewn across the ground, their torn clothing and lifeless eyes revealing the horrors they had endured before my arrival. One woman, in particular, displayed a sorrowful disposition. She managed to gather some strength and crawled towards me, a petite blonde with vacant blue eyes, her body marred by recent red marks and scars.
Desperation etched in her expression, she grabbed my leg and, with what little power she could muster, spoke, "P-Please k-kill me."
My eyes welled with grief as I knelt in front of her, gently stroking her back and head, hoping for some sign of recovery. However, her gaze remained indifferent, and she repeated her plea, "...p-Please kill me."
Instead of granting her request, I reached into my inventory and retrieved another water gourd, pouring a small amount of liquid down her throat. For a fleeting moment, her eyes seemed to regain some vitality, allowing me to pose a question.
"What is your name, miss?" I asked. She softly replied, "Annabelle." I nodded thoughtfully and remarked, "Annabelle, a beautiful name." A flicker of a smile touched her lips. I continued to inquire, "Why do you want to die, Annabelle?"
Tears welled up in her eyes as she pitifully responded, "I can't face my fiancé anymore. N-not when I'm impure."
"I see, do you know where your fiancé is, my dear Annabelle?" I questioned. She responded slowly, "Trevor was in the village, trying to fend off the bandits. We were no match. The women w-were captured and separated from the men. Oh... oh, Trevor is dead, isn't he?" I didn't confirm her doubts.
"I don't believe so," I reassured her. "I don't think it would be possible to kill so many men so covertly. Besides, why would they go through the trouble of tying up the men if they were going to finish them off anyway?" Annabelle's eyes, which were slowly regaining their luster, seemed to light up even more at my declaration.
"B-but then where is h-he?" she asked, trembling. I replied honestly, "I don't know, but that's what I'm going to find out." I looked at all the women lying across the dirt and rocky ground, who were beginning to regain their senses, and confidently declared, "I will find out what happened to everyone, I promise." This statement garnered murmurs from the crowd, and some seemed to be regaining their willpower.
My attention returned to Annabelle, who was now clinging to my shirt and robe, her voice filled with hysteria as she cried, "B-but I still can't face him anymore. H-he won't look at me after what happened!" The nearby women who had been starting to come to terms with their ordeal seemed to lose the life force they had just regained, and their morale crumbled.
Without hesitation, I brought Annabelle into my embrace and gently stroked her head, as if soothing a child. I spoke softly, "If Trevor is truly the man you believe him to be—the man you fell in love with and got engaged to—then he won't blame you for something that isn't your fault." Annabelle wept in my arms like a newborn baby, and the meek sniffles of other women could be heard, as they found solace in our shared moment of vulnerability. Well, any women that weren't already broken.
I then proceeded to delve into the details of my conversation with Annabelle and addressed the pressing question that had been gnawing at me. "Annabelle, when you mentioned 'village,' which village are you referring to?" She turned to me, her expression a mix of confusion and concern, and stammered, "Bluebell, of course. D-didn't you come to rescue us?" Bluebell?! That was situated on the opposite side of Rosemary. It seemed inconceivable that an invasion could occur so close without detection. I yearned for answers, and honesty compelled me to respond, "No, I was commissioned by Gamgee to tackle the recent mountain bandit issue. We haven't received any reports, not even from Rosemary, about this invasion." Her disbelief was evident as she squinted at me, but then, as if a realization struck her, she exclaimed, "I-I think I might know how they managed it. Th-they had a genuine mage, a wizard among them. He cast a peculiar red light around the village, and once we were incapacitated, I caught a glimpse of it. From the outside, the village appeared entirely unscathed!"
"A wizard? Blast it, I should've seen the warning signs! But why all the subterfuge with this invasion? Are they aiming to sneak in, catch us off guard, and then repeat their assault? Or could it be that they fear Gamgee's might? Something doesn't add up here. There's a deeper layer to this... Damn it, it's one dilemma after another. I long for the tranquility of my former, unhurried life! Can I take him on? Perhaps he's just cautious and not significantly weaker than my grandfather. No, that's absurd. A wizard more potent than my grandfather wouldn't waste their time stirring up trouble in the countryside; they'd have grander ambitions. As I felt my guise as a Freedomanimty priest slipping away, a new fire ignited within me. 'Magna Swing would never forsake a mission or people in need!' It was as though Magna himself endorsed my resolve, and I felt my magical power and physical strength steadily surging. It's not a matter of strength, weaker or stronger; I must fight, even if it's a suicidal endeavor because true magic knights never back down from their missions."
"Very well," I started, shifting my attention to the women around me. Those who were awake raised their heads to meet my gaze. "I require a favor from all of you – gather as closely as you can, please." It took a brief moment for my request to sink in, but they swiftly complied without question. In approximately five minutes, all the women had formed a tight circle, their conscious peers appearing puzzled, while the distressed and shattered ones remained oblivious to their surroundings.
I chose not to provide an explanation and opted to let my actions speak for themselves. Kneeling down, I extended both arms, gripping the ground firmly. With a steady voice, I chanted an incantation, "Magic Convert: Earth -> Transparent Shield." The women observed in astonishment as the solid ground surrounding them transformed into a transparent dome, encasing them. But I wasn't finished yet.
Shifting my gaze skyward, I anchored myself with my left leg positioned behind, preparing for a 90-degree throw. I shouted, "Fire Magic: Maximum Exploding Fireball." A colossal, blazing fireball materialized in my hand before rapidly condensing to the size of a marble. With a swift motion, I hurled the fiery projectile into the sky, and it shot upward faster than the speed of sound. The moment it reached terminal velocity, it exploded into a dazzling pyrotechnic display, its thunderous echo resonating across the countryside, undoubtedly catching someone's attention.
Turning my attention back to the bewildered women, I clarified, "I've just sent a signal to Gamgee and anyone else who might be watching. Help will arrive soon. In the meantime, stay within this dome and do not emerge, regardless of who approaches and asks you to. If they are not an enemy, the shield will permit them entry, understand?" They nodded slowly and assured me that they would keep the hysterical girls under control as well. Many showed relieved expressions at the mention of my grandfather.
I responded with affirmation, "Excellent! Meanwhile, I'm going to deal with the troublemakers and show them what a real man is made of." The women could only gaze at me with perplexed expressions as my speech transformed to match the tough demeanor I was adopting, their eyes filled with hope as I made my way into the barracks and disappeared from their view.
------
As I traversed the makeshift, rocky hallways with measured steps, heading toward the epicenter of an ongoing dispute, I took a moment for introspection. Having spent a significant portion of my life on the front lines as a soldier, gruesome sights held no novelty for me. Perhaps it was this experience that allowed me to maintain a level head despite bearing witness to the wretched fates of those women. However, it didn't mean my blood wasn't seething with fury and my stomach churning with sorrow. Instead, it kept me from succumbing to impulsive instincts, preventing me from charging in guns blazing without adequate information.
The harsh reality of this world lies in the fact that the powerful often prey upon the vulnerable. It's an unspoken law that holds true for any society. America, for instance, can extend its influence far and wide, meddling in the affairs of others, and yet be remembered as the virtuous party because history tends to be penned by the conquerors—the strong. Germany, too, displayed its strength, rebounding from defeat multiple times and plunging the world into chaos. In the case of these bandits, their strength overshadowed Bluebell's weakness; it's a straightforward truth. I understand that weakness is often regarded as a failing, but it still manages to incense me regardless. I let out a sigh, pulling myself from this philosophical reverie, and refocused my thoughts.
Magna had never excelled at magic sense, so I had to combine Grey's gift to concentrate and pinpoint the source of magical energy. It appeared to be in the same direction I was heading, albeit a bit distant. As I reached the end of the hallway, the scene came into view. The few stragglers who had managed to escape my prior assault were now on their knees, imploring a burly man who had risen from what passed for a throne, only to swiftly behead one of the more 'vocal' bandits with an axe. Presumably, he was the boss. Scattered across the floor lay the lifeless bodies of what one might call 'higher-quality' women, but unlike their counterparts with vacant eyes, this was more than just a superficial appearance.
I steadied myself to prevent an outburst and announced my presence with the resounding echo of my footsteps on the stone floor as I casually entered. Every one of the bandits, save for the self-proclaimed boss, turned to me with expressions of fear. The boss, on the other hand, appeared to regard me as one would an insignificant nuisance that needed to be put in its place.
"Brat! What's your name?" the boss demanded, exuding confidence, while his subordinates visibly shrank away in fear of being associated with him. The boss, however, seemed to pay no heed to their insubordination, as if he had already dismissed them as bothersome entities no longer worth keeping around.
I provided him with a response, "Magna, Magna Swing," as he nodded, the bald head catching the glint of light, one-handedly holding his axe while stroking his beard with the other. He proceeded to offer me a proposition, "You're better than this riffraff. How about it? Join me!"
Suppressing a fit of laughter at the sheer absurdity of the proposal, I responded bluntly, "Sorry, chief, but I don't serve anyone weaker than me." This appeared to enrage him as he flared his nostrils, pointing his axe at me with a single hand, his right hand, and declared, "You think I, the great Khan, am weak? Are you so arrogant, you, a mere mage? I'm not a fool like these other scoundrels. If you're here, it means Geezer Gamgee has grown too old to fight. After I finish you off, I'll go for him next. Not just Hobbiton, but all the villages and women will be under my rule! I, the great Khan, shall govern Fiore—"
Before he could finish his boastful proclamation, my patience ran thin, and I obliterated his head with a fireball. Surprisingly, his physicality wasn't just for show, as he remained upright, headless, his axe extended toward me. I began, "You're not the leader. You possess no magical power." Calmly shifting my gaze to the remaining bandits who had cornered themselves on the left side of the makeshift throne room, I stated matter-of-factly, "The one who tells me where the wizard is will be spared," a ball of fire materializing in my outstretched right hand.
This chapter's a bit more gruesome so I put the R18 print. As always let me know what you guy's think.