“Arr’koro

  “That was the name the Creator deigned to give me once I’d proven myself to be something more than a simple goblin. With it came power I could hardly fathom, coursing through my veins like a potent drug. I gained proper sentience, rather than the half-thoughts that ran through my mind at the time, and was granted Authority that could match my meteoric rise.

  “None of that could compare to the Knowledge.

  “But this is altogether too much exposition. You’d prefer something more stimulating, wouldn't you?”

  The hunter in my grasp choked out a glob of blood as I loosened my grip on his throat. He was more boy than man, which was impressive considering he was the strongest among a group of dozens.

  The horde may have passed, but there were plenty of ork hunters in the aftermath combing through the forest to find little old me. It was flattering to be desired by beings that could pose a proper challenge. Best part of the whole affair honestly, rampaging over simple villages was such a bore.

  Had to be done though, keeping the mortals on their toes was the duty I was given in exchange for so much.

  Not a fair trade honestly. Big boss didn’t even want to siphon any of my soul bits as I got stronger, content to leave me to my machinations on how I decided to interpret their Will.

  I wasn’t very creative, so I followed the example of the ork that led me just a few winters ago. Just as all the others had done before them.

  I gave the hunter a sharp smile as I raised him to eye level. “Say? Why don’t we play a game? I’ve got too many tethers to make another deal, unfortunately, but who says I can’t respect a worthy opponent with a chance at survival?”

  He wriggled a bit, but kept eye contact with a glare.

  Got some spunk on this one!

  Good.

  “REGENERATE, deliver onto another.”

  I didn't have to say it at my level, but it brought an appropriate amount of drama when I did. The boy’s arm twisted back to normal after its mutilation as both his legs alongside his left arm grew back from where I tore them off.

  I let go and left him to scramble on his feat once his limbs regenerated. Took a bit longer than the other wounds, but the sight of flesh and bone growing was entrancing enough that I didn’t think of it as an annoyance. The boy snatched a sword from one of his very dead friends and pointed it at me with the determination of the damned.

  “Not that kind of game, hunter boy,” I huffed a chuckle. “I said I’d give you a chance at survival, didn’t I?”

  “Why should I trust anything you say?” the boy spat out.

  I shrugged. “Don’t have to. Either you entertain me for a bit and possibly live or I kill you. Not really a choice if you want to see tomorrow.”

  He glared at me hard…but lowered his sword in contemplation.

  Predictable. He was young, and while the young were foolish, they were also the type to grasp at any semblance of hope.

  “Alright,” he said slowly, somehow not at all afraid of the destroyer in front of him. “What kind of game is this?”

  “Simple, punch that tree.”

  He gave me a confused glance as he looked over to the barky boy I was pointing at. Well, trees were a lot like orks in that they didn’t have a gender, but it didn’t have a consciousness to care for me misgendering it. At least I was pretty sure it didn’t, didn’t look like a treant, but you never knew with the lazy bastards.

  Help support creative writers by finding and reading their stories on the original site.

  He walked over to the tree and punched it just as I’d asked.

  It didn’t react, so probably not a treant.

  He looked back at me with a raised brow.

  “Do it again,” I nodded.

  He shrugged and punched once more.

  “Again.”

  “Again.”

  “Again.”

  In the end I had him punching that same tree for a full week before I was satisfied, only taking one break for him to drink. His fists were scrapped to the bone, and I offered no healing throughout the entire venture, nor after.

  He had integrated with enough Essence that he’d survive something as petty as infection.

  Besides, he got to live and I got some entertainment while I waited for another group of hunters to come find me.

  Would it be too much to hope for a Knight? I’d only gotten to fight one of those, but it was exhilarating. Too bad only the neighboring kingdom knew how to make them.

  Maybe I’d travel east once I got bored of this place.

  I didn’t like the look in her eyes as she charged me with wild abandon.

  Feral ferocity took the place of where I’d normally find a calculating countenance. Swinging with only the intention to hurt and nothing more. Sure, it was more challenging than our normal bouts, but that was only because we were using wooden blades. If it was proper steel, then she’d be dead ten times over.

  Ro Kan, for once, seemed to agree.

  Possibly because he was annoyed that I didn’t even need to pull on him for our fights. There was one day where Yir managed to force me to lean on the spirit, but that was after pushing herself to a state where she was almost insensate.

  Hard to see considering how well she masked it, but my passenger noticed it all the same.

  He resented being called that, but he could do a whole lot of jack shit since I wasn’t pulling on his expertise. Almost got a chuckle out of me though. I didn’t, since that would leave a very unflattering impression for my opponent.

  I didn’t want to hurt her pride while she was so obviously struggling with grief.

  I didn’t understand it honestly, plenty of people died when hunting monsters, did she think her friends would be an exception? The rule of the strong was just the way of life, and anyone who died on that path was only worth the distance they travelled.

  Being away from home for as long as I’d been, I knew that sharing that opinion would go over very poorly, so I kept that to myself.

  Instead I indulged her on her self-destructive race for improvement. It was the only thing I could do. I knew I wasn’t exactly skilled at soothing someone in pain, luckily I didn’t have to.

  That was Aira’s problem, a duty she was distinctly failing at if the increased intensity in Yir’s desire for violence was any indication. Loklan did the smart thing and didn’t bother, not expecting Aira to join him on his hunts, but not delaying them for the sake of an apprentice.

  Perfectly practical.

  Not to say that I could relate to the elk-man, but he and I had something of an understanding. We were polar opposites in personality, but our goals aligned just enough that it didn’t matter.

  The goal being to fight strong shit to get stronger.

  Which begged the question of why I was entertaining someone weaker than me, especially after they threw away all semblance of sound judgement.

  A question that Ro Kan made his burden to constantly remind me of.

  I only really contemplated the heavy shit when I was fighting, combat gave me a kind of clarity that meditation couldn’t hope to match. So as Yir tried to strike my neck, I let myself fall into my thoughts.

  I could go with the easy explanations.

  That Loklan asked me too and I was the ever dutiful apprentice to comply. Or that she was the only peer I had that could pose something resembling a challenge.

  But neither were entirely true.

  It was more…like kinship?

  My first spar with her was just me entertaining my mentor, but as it continued I found myself seeing it as less of a burden. Yir was like me and Loklan in a sense. She craved power, to a degree that I’d dare say surpassed me and my mentor.

  Like training wasn’t a means to an end, but the whole purpose of living.

  It reminded me of home, of the best parts that I’d left behind alongside everything else.

  But this approach she was taking brought my mind back to the reasons I left in the first place. Oh well, I’m sure she’d make it past the grief eventually.

  Just had to be patient.