Interlude: War and Vengeance

[A/N: Changed 'God of ****' to 'God of Vengeance' to better represent what the class actually does.]

-2nd day of Competition, 2.04.1052, in the morning-
-Deep within the Nihl Kingdom, roughly 1500 km southeast of Forna’s borders-

A woman was running, quickly stepping into an alley and trying to run through it. Just an hour ago, she was a normal gal, not outstandingly beautiful, but definitely with the kind of charm that made her attractive to most. She was of moderate height, roughly 165 cm, with a delicate outline of her chin and slightly puffy cheeks. Ample breasts and bottom were slightly emphasized by her tunic and pants, both of dark creamy color. Just an hour ago, she was a guard in this village. But now, there was hardly anything normal about her anymore.

She slowed down, her lungs burning. She wasn’t sure how long she’d been running, but one thing was for certain: she was definitely not able to run anymore. She tried to fight it, but it didn’t matter. She was hardly a match for the monster itself despite being past her 1st advancement. No matter what she threw at it, what skill she tried to use, the monstrous orc just didn’t budge. And when it swung its terrible hammer, it almost smashed her into the ground whole. She looked at her hands, soaked in blood. She wasn’t supposed to be alive, but…

“…M-Miri…*Sob*” tears entered her brown eyes as she once again felt her friend’s hands pushing her away. In the split second before the monster would’ve killed her, Miri used her teleporting skill and swapped their positions. She sacrificed herself to save her. “…why…” the woman cried quietly as she lowered herself to the ground. “…that should’ve been me… *Sob*”

“My,” she heard from up ahead. “What happened to you?” a man’s voice entered her ears, full of curiosity.

The kneeling woman swiped her tears and quickly took out a short sword from its pouch on her waist. However, as she raised her eyes at the man, she lowered the blade a little.

“Hey, you don't have to aim that at me. I'm not your enemy," the man said, raising his hands a little. "I just came to this place. Did something... happen?" he asked, eyeing the bloody stains on the woman's clothes. For some reason, he appeared unafraid.

“…a monster. You must run… *Sob*” the woman said before bursting into tears again.

“Hey, hey, calm down a little. Tell me what happened. Maybe I can help?”

“…*Sob* It’s… It’s no use…” the woman sobbed, her raven-black hair of elbow length swaying as she dropped to her knees in defeat. “…everyone… *Sob* Mom… Miri… Chiara… I couldn’t save any of them…!”

“What kind of monster attacked you?”

“…an orc… he’s leading 20 men… they’re… unstoppable. You have to… run… we have to… run…” she said, slowly recollecting herself. She sniffed a little before rising from her position shakily.

“An orc…? My, that’ll be a problem to deal with.”

“…w-what…?” she looked at the man.

He had roughly 180 cm in height and was wearing some kind of neatly-fitting dark suit, akin to armor but without any visible metal plates. On top of it, he had shoulder plates and something that looked like long bracelets on his wrists. Other than that, however, he was unarmed. He wasn’t even wearing a dagger on himself, let alone a sword.

His chin was a little pointy, emphasizing his oval head and neatly divided, short hair of nut-brown color. His eyes, deep blue in color, emanated some kind of soothing aura that the woman couldn’t help but feel sinking into her body, even if just a little bit.

The man extended his slender hand toward her and helped her up as she accepted the gesture.

“…you’re not thinking about fighting it… are you?” she asked, eyeing him again.

“Well, orcs are weak at magic, no?” the man asked with a small smirk, raising his finger. A small wisp of pale blue color appeared above his nail for a moment.

“It’s pointless,” she answered, wiping the remnants of tears from her cheeks. “It just shrugs magic off. It has some enchanted equipment. I barely managed to pierce its skin with my sword, too. It’s like…”

“It’s impossible to kill it?” the man chuckled lightly. “Don’t be a pessimist like that. Everything can be killed. You just need…” he opened his hand, and suddenly, a much larger wisp of faintly purple color appeared. “…a really strong blow.”

“…you can’t do this. I won’t let you,” she said, regaining a bit of her composure. “You can’t commit suicide like this.”

“Suicide? Oh, do you really care this much about me? Then how about you help me?”

“…didn’t you listen? It’s no use. We have to run… evacuate whoever is still alive.”

“We can do that… or… we can strike,” the man formed a cocky smirk. “What do you say? Wouldn’t you like to get some ****?”

“…?” the woman felt her heart jump slightly at the final word. She wasn’t sure how, but it… beckoned to her, promising great power to fulfill her desire. “W-What do you mean?”

“Oh, come on. I’m sure that bastard will be tired, no? It’s an opportunity for you to get back at him.”

The woman looked slightly away, visibly considering his words. “…It’s pointless. I can’t fight for long anyway.”

“I can help you with that,” the man pointed the palm of his hand at her, and some orange-tinted wisp appeared in his hand before dispersing, its light enveloping the woman whole.

“W-Wha--!“ the words were caught in her throat as she felt the mana permeate her body. She couldn’t understand how, but it felt… reinvigorating. In an instant, she was regaining the stamina she’d lost. It was… warm, in a special way, one she’d not felt before. She looked at her hands. They weren’t trembling anymore, and she couldn’t feel much fear anymore. It was… cathartic, in a way. “…who are you?”

“Name’s Vergil,” the man bowed his head a little.

“No, I meant--“

“My class?” Vergil chuckled lightly. “If I said was chosen by a god, would you believe me?"

“…to be making jokes in a situation like this...” the woman grimaced a little before making a sound akin to a snicker. “If you were, which one would it be?”

“Ardu, the God of Vengeance. The overseer of those who want to get back at others.”

“...”

“Well, let’s not sit around, alright? What class are you?”

“…I’m Faula, Magic Swordsman fresh after my 1st advancement.”

“Hoh, that's a good power. Melee fighter with magic... If it’s this much, I believe we can defeat it. What do you say? Made up your mind to kill the bastard that took your family?”

“…yes,” she answered. She wasn’t sure why, but the words Vergil said, the way he said them, and their impact on her, all of this was… convincing her that she was doing the right thing. ‘I’ll avenge you all.’ she promised within her soul, gripping her sword tightly. “Let’s go.”

-A couple of minutes later-

Faula rushed forward, Vergil following in her tracks. The scenery of the ravaged village was stabbing her in the heart, but it also made her resolve to burn that much brighter. Placing her steps on the hardened ground quickly, she was going seemingly faster and faster by the second, so much so that the man was starting to be left behind. Not that it mattered; as they discussed the strategy, he wasn’t a close-quarter fighter anyway. His role was to support her with his magic. Whether or not he was who he said he was didn’t bear much meaning to her.

She passed by a few more houses before coming to a halt. Looking around, she quickly realized something.

‘It’s… too quiet.’ she still had the images of orcs attacking in her mind. Then… why weren’t they around? And, more importantly, why weren’t there any bodies? ‘They killed so many of us… why’s there not a single body?’

A sudden, somewhat quiet yelp sounded in the distance. Without thinking much, the woman shot forward again, ignoring Vergil who was closing in on her location. Stepping outside the village’s premises, she began stepping on a field covered in rather low, pale green grass. And then, she came to a halt, completely shocked.

The huge orc stood tall, more than 2 meters in height, and his body was muscular. He was standing roughly 15 meters from her, his equipment down, hips thrusting forward and backward in a steady motion as one of his hands was placed on the head of a girl he was fucking relentlessly, the other one easily lifting her so as not to let her fall to the ground. Her wavy, black hair was in complete disarray and her mouth was foaming, an occasional quiet moan escaping her vocal cords. In the distance of about 50 meters, similar scenery was unfolding, more than 30 orcs having their way with dozens of women and not only ones from Faula’s village, it looked like.

However, Faula’s eyes focused on the closest woman. She knew that face well, very well, even. The grip on her sword increased to the point where she felt her fingers almost give out from the pressure.

“C-Chiara… you bastard!” she yelled, running at full speed, sword up and ready for a fight.

The orc didn’t even seem to notice her presence until it was too late. Using one of her skills, Faula shot upward from her run and bent her body, aiming a clean strike at the ****’s neck.

She wasn’t sure how it was possible, but the blade that once bounced off of the green skin now cleanly penetrated it, marking a cut in the tall humanoid’s neck. However, the orc boasted impressive speed for its size, as it quickly rose its right hand, getting hold of Fauna’s neck. Losing any support, the girl whom he was fucking fell down to the ground, but there was hardly any reaction from her.

The orc squeezed Fauna’s neck as she did her best to pierce his skin again. However, her strength was wilting away by the second, her sword barely making a paper-cut worth of damage to the huge monster. His black eyes looked at her as his fist kept tightening its grip for a moment, before he looked somewhere behind her, and released his hold a little whilst throwing her backward.

Stumbling on the ground, Fauna rolled a few times, completely out of breath. Still, she **** herself on her elbows, looking for her sword and doing her best to breathe stably. As her eyes ventured up, she noticed how the orc resumed his ignorant fucking of Chiara, picking the girl up quickly.

“My,” Fauna heard Vergil’s voice as he stepped closer. “You really went straight for his neck. That’s a very bad strategy for an orc, you know? You should aim for his calve tendons.”

“*Pant* …are you not going to attack?! *Huff*” she asked, rising from her position. Seeing how he was handing her a sword, she took hold of the handle.

“Oh, I don’t have to. See how he’s not caring about you at all? He’s secretly hiding that he’s tired,” Vergil said, loud and clear, so much so that even the orc stopped his movements and turned his head toward him. “He’s weak now.”

“YOU!!!” the orc dropped the girl again and stepped toward the two of them a little, fists clenched. “CROSS! LINE!” suddenly, it flinched, looking at the two. Still, it didn’t back down, instead taking a large step forward.

“I think he’s mad,” Vergil chuckled a little, tapping Faula’s shoulder. “Let’s do this now, alright?”

Faula nodded.

Without wasting a second, she shot forward, aiming her sword upward, seemingly intent on piercing the orc’s stomach outright. Feeling that she had enough power, Fauna used a skill. A wave of blueish, flame-like mana erupted from her palms and enveloped the blade quickly as she stabbed at the muscular mass in front of her. Surprisingly, however, the hulking giant in front of her managed to dodge the attack and hit her with a powerful blow in her chest. A loud crack rang in the air as the woman was flung back, groaning in pain.

She felt Vergil catch her, letting her stand her ground, but only barely. At least three ribs were broken, that was to be sure, the pain radiating cleanly through her chest. Faula felt her sword starting to slip from her hands, and the world started becoming dim.

“I told you, aim for tendons,” Vergil’s voice rang in her head as the world was spinning around. His face came into view. “Come on, get up and avenge your people.”

She raised her hand slightly but was only able to barely hold onto his shoulder. As her helped her to her feet properly, she looked at him with a shaky gaze.

“…w-won’t you h-help?” her voice was noticeably quieter than before. Although she was doing her best, if she didn’t get any help soon, she was sure to die, either from the orc’s blow or internal bleeding. “…p-please…”

“Ah. I suppose it can’t be helped,” Vergil formed a small smirk as he let go of Fauna. Without his support, the woman leaned on her sword weakly before attempting to stand straight again. She turned toward the orc.

“…thank y--!” Faula stopped mid-word as she felt the piercing pain emanate from her chest. A sound of metal rang through the air as she looked down, seeing a somewhat thin, but long, blade going straight through her sternum on her heart’s level, entirely covered in her blood. It was segmented in a few places, forming a stable construct together, but seemingly allowing for folding. Without thinking much, she reached out to try and get it out, but her strength was wilting quickly.

A split second passed, and the blade suddenly retracted, its pieces going out through the woman’s back. Leaning to her right, she felt Vergil spreading his arm over her and leaning in.

“Did you know?” he whispered into her ear. “Every god has two attributes, even though most are portrayed with only one.”

“…I…*cough* tho…ught…. you were…”

“On your side? Not a fat chance, sweetie. You’re cute, but to me, you’re just a bunch of experience with a nice wrapping. By the by, thanks. I leveled up my skill thanks to you.”

Faula’s eyes were starting to dim. She no longer had the strength to raise her hands, and even just holding on to her dear life was a monumental task.

“Right. I got off track. Ardu’s attributes are Vengeance and Betrayal,” he positioned himself in front of her, a smile on his face. Both his hands on her shoulders, he was holding her up and looked into her eyes.

“…”

“Come on, tell me just how much you hate me,” he smiled devilishly, bringing his face closer. If Faula had any strength, she’d probably be able to bite his nose. “Let me feel your wrathful spirit,” he had a little crazed look on his face as his smile widened. His eyes were penetrating straight into her skull, awaiting her reaction.

“…I’m… sorry… Ch-Chiara…” Faula whispered weakly before her body gave out. Her head bent forward as she gave out her last dying breath, completely slumping forward into Vergil’s arms.

“My, my. Such a heartfelt moment. Hahaha…” Vergil let go of the woman’s body, letting it fall to the ground, and looked at his hands, and then at the orc. “Hey, Gruhl, am I glowing?”

“…?” the orc looked at him and then shook his head a little, visibly puzzled.

“I can feel it… the darkness… it’s in my veins… boiling! My heart cannot contain this excitement!” he laughed vividly, raising a hand into the sky and firing a few bolts of purple mana. “Hahaha…” he placed his right hand on his cheek and even covered a part of his eye as he turned to Gruhl again. “This look of hopelessness they have when they die. Ah, that will never get old.”

“…hmph,” the huge orc let out a sound before turning around. Without skipping a beat, he lifted the woman he’d been fucking until just now and got her over his shoulder whilst walking away. She seemed to react, but just barely.

“Come on, aren’t those exciting?!” Vergil asked, bringing both his hands forth. With a single thought, the two bracelets on his hands suddenly transformed, forming two blades made of several smaller elements. The total length of the blades was roughly 50 cm, which was just about as long as a sword, however, these blades were affixed to his hands, which meant he couldn’t drop them. “With these, I feel like I can defeat even you!”

“…?” Gruhl turned around momentarily before snorting and resuming his walk. “Dream on. Little man.”

-Roughly 5 hours later-

“My. <Vengeful Spirit> leveled up again. It’s level 8, neat,” Vergil said to no one in particular, sitting leisurely in the back of the roofed cart he was in and fidgeting with his silvery MID. A woman was lying her head in his lap, her generous bust straining her obviously too-small tunic to the last of its limit.

He loved seeing her strain her clothes.

Opposite of him, another two women were sitting, both leaning on one another, sleeping. The one on the right was the one that was **** until she foamed just today by Gruhl, covered with a large, ragged sheet that allowed one of her large tits to flow through a hole partially.

‘So… she’s Chiara, huh? A fine addition. Might be able to keep Gruhl’s rock-dense mind off of my girls for now.’ he thought, looking back at the woman resting on him. She had beautiful, dirty blonde hair, flowing down to the cart’s floor. Her delicate face was unblemished and clearly taken care of. A small nose was guarding her rather large lips, and under her eyelids, reflective, yellow eyes rested.

Vergil combed through the woman’s hair a little before getting up, sliding from underneath her head and standing in the cart. Feeling a bump that they traveled on, he got his hands on the railing on the roof, regaining his balance. Without waiting for a second, he made his way up front and poked his head through the covers separating him from the huge orc.

“Hey, Gruhl,” he said, stepping into the driver’s bench and sitting next to him.

“Hmph,” the orc grunted quickly, barely holding the reigns as he was leaning back a little. “What, Vergil?”

“Ah, nothing, just wondering. What’s your level? That village must’ve given you lost of experience.”

“Gained 3. 72 now,” he answered in a low tone. “You?”

“My, you’re impressive. No wonder that woman could barely scratch you. I’m only 55,” ‘In reality, I’m 80, but he doesn’t need to know that…’ he thought as a smile formed on his face. “Hunting humans is really something else. They give so much experience, why weren’t we doing this from the very beginning?”

“...you said. Lay low.”

“I know, I know. It was rhetorical.”

“…uh?”

“Well, anywho,” Vergil waved his hand a little. ‘If this guy wasn’t an Apostle himself, I’d have had his head already… he’s such a dunce.’ he thought with a slight frown, but his expression went unnoticed by the orc, who focused on the road. “I wanted to talk about our next target. We will be approaching Coatta in about 6 days. There will be one village extra on the way.”

“Vergil. Question.”

“Yes, my friend?”

“You say ‘Coatta’. For days. Why?”

“Oh, are you interested in my crybaby story?”

Orc nodded a little.

"So be it. When you were playing in the sand with your clan, I was a lord of these lands. The entire Domeal prefecture of the Nihl Kingdom was at my hand. I was even called 'Marquis Vergil Zahl', can you believe it? Those were such beautiful years... must've been a decade since the joy ended."

“So, what happen?”

“Diang family happen, my friend. They had hooks in the royal palace, and managed to convince some of the king’s advisors that I was a bad spirit haunting these lands! The king was manipulated by them, and he gave out a verdict to remove me from my seat. Truly, they had wanted me gone by all means. But it's not like I left without giving them a little gift," the man's face smiled wickedly. "I'm certain they still remember the heads I left them, huhu~."

The orc sighed lightly. The way Vergil spoke was too much for him to comprehend fully, but he did understand the main gist of the story. Therefore, his lips parted, "Vergil, point. How do we win?"

“You see, fate has granted us an exquisite gift. An asset,” Vergil leaned backward and looked inside the cart, straight at the woman who was sleeping in his lap before. “That beautiful flower of a girl I asked you to never touch is known as Monica Diang, daughter to the current ruler of Coatta. My, how delightful were her thoughts of inadequacy! She's willing to do anything to gain recognition. Therefore, I got her on our side. With her help, we can easily sneak into the city and **** the entire family at night. And then we can feast.”

“…huh? No pillage?”

“Why do you always go ‘pillage this, **** that, kill everyone else’? Every single time. How many women had you had since we started working together? Because I honestly lost count after 40.”

“…uh…” Gruhl raised his hands and started counting on his fingers.

“Never mind, I don’t even want to know. There’s no pillaging Coatta. No more women for now, either. You’re Apostle of War, not ‘Apostle of Sex’ or whatever!” Vergil raised his voice a little before calming down. “We have to act quickly and silently. The moment a single piece falls, all our efforts will be for nothing! We’re getting away with pillaging villages for now because we can clean them up easily, but in a few days, they will notice. We have to take over Coatta before they send a messenger to the royal palace. If we succeed, we’ll be able to rule this place without much issue. With Monica in place, we’ll be able to do as we please. The best dungeons and hunting grounds will be ours.”

“Hmph. No pillage. No fun.”

“You should be grateful I’m reformatting those girls to serve us. You have no idea how long it takes just to do one properly, and I’m doing at least 4 daily. This poor soul gets no rest, you know? Do you know what will happen if the demon in my heart gets out, my friend?”

‘Vergil is weird.’ That was the only thought that permeated Gruhl’s mind. He opted to not answer, instead letting out a small sigh.

“It’s good that you understand,” Vergil smiled a little, sitting back and leaning on the cart wall’s support. “As soon as we get rid of that damnable family, we’ll be able to get so many levels. You can’t imagine how many good dungeons are within Domeal prefecture. Once I heard that there is even a young wyvern hiding in nearby mountains.”

“Wyvern? Here?”

“Yes, indeed. It's still not hunted down, I hear. What do you say? If we try really hard, maybe we can coax it and get a mount?”

Gruhl simply nodded. This conversation was getting too much for him to process at once.

Vergil looked around a little. Their entire caravan was driving through some rough-looking plains, quite different from the green-filled village they had pillaged just this morning. The sand was peeking out between occasional strands of yellow grass, indicating that they were approaching desert terrains.

Stepping back into the cart’s load space, the Apostle of Vengeance quickly found his way back to his seat. Carefully, he sat down, so as not to wake any of the girls up, and leaned his head on the wall.

‘My, that dunce will be a problem.’ his hand went to Monica’s head and combed through her blonde hair a little. She was beautiful, with an amazing body, and a good position. Vergil was sure she had to become their permanent ally.

His smile became gentler.

‘And to think that by a stroke of luck, we can get back at those bastards so easily. Isn’t it fate, dear Monica?’ he looked at how peacefully she slept. ‘My sleep schedule’s all over the place, too.’ he groaned quietly at the very thought.

It has been like this since he met Ardu. After being pulled into the mysterious place known as ‘God’s Realm’, Vergil was gifted with his current class. Although Ardu’s proposal was a little bizarre to him at first, Vergil quickly grew accustomed to the idea that this class gave him. The more he thought about it, the more he was just like his god. The suffering of others brought him… fun. It was delightful to see everyone around writhe in pain and try to break from the cruel cycle that he **** them into. He had to admit he was doing fine on his own.

However, since Ardu's proposal, Vergil's position became a hundred times better.

‘I wonder how Gruhl got chosen.’

He only heard a brief story from the orc once. He was dissatisfied with his chief and challenged him, and after he’d won, he’s been ruling his clan with unprecedented cruelty and brutality. Gruhl was as aggressive as orcs could get, and he constantly sought out new conflicts to get tangled into. Was this the reason why Trigal had chosen him specifically? In a way, it could be; gods were picking people who would be able to represent their attributes the best. What better person to represent a magic-less god than a pure mass of muscles and unbridled aggression?

The two of them worked together to become much stronger. Vergil didn’t lie, having a person like Gruhl around was definitely a big help; there was no such thing as an uneasy night since they got accustomed to one another. Nobody would be foolish enough to attack an orc chieftain with his warband. On the other hand, however, it was difficult to get through that same orc’s thick skull. Was it not for his skill of understanding other languages, the two of them would’ve never communicated as well as they did. On top of that, Gruhl barely ever hesitated to hit anyone who questioned his rule (except for Vergil, but that was because of Trigal).

However, his simplistic nature made him easier to be controlled. Vergil was thankful for as much.

‘That’s not what’s important.’ he shook his head a little. ‘Let’s focus on Coatta first. Once we get it, we’ll have to spread out the communication network above and beyond. Other Apostles may be just about anywhere, we need to find out their locations. After we do that, I can finish off the last of the Diang family.’ he looked at the sleeping Monica. ‘And then I can rule these lands once more.’