Salvation Through Death: Chapter 2 – Rivals Versus a Common Enemy

Chapter 2 – Rivals Versus a Common Enemy

Bovis and I encounter no trouble on the way to the blacksmith where he works, but also, he doesn’t say a word to me probably because of what I did and spoke. We stop outside of the shop and start bringing the crates of materials inside and get the other servants to help us who are at first startled by my appearance. Who I presume to be the owner of the shop appears startled not by me but by Bovis.

He says, “Bo-Bovis! I’m glad you made it back in one piece with all the materials in tow.”

“It’s all thanks to my friend here who’s a native of Corvus. His name is Dunmire,” Bovis says as he sets down a crate. “Can you explain to me again why you didn’t let me go there without any guards? If it weren’t for Dunmire, I would’ve been robbed or died or both!”

“You know I need as much help as I can get here and that I already have other carriages that are being guarded that haven’t returned yet. Besides, you’re back home safe without a scratch on you and with a new friend.”

I look at him as I evaluate his words and judge their truthfulness in light of everything that’s happened and what I know of Bovis. The owner looks at me with the attempt of a smile on his face and I know that he’s not smiling uncomfortably just because of my appearance. He starts to back away with his hands up and a fading smile that he struggles to keep up.

“What? It’s the God-honest truth,” the owner says.

“I thought an inexperienced young carriage driver into a dangerous land with no one to protect him was strange, but the fact that you were surprised to see him makes it more suspicious. It also doesn’t help that we were ambushed by thieves on our way back near the border between our kingdoms,” I say as I walk closer to him.

“What? Are you saying that I expected him to die and sent the thieves after him to steal the materials I sent him to get?”

I reach back and grab the hilt of my sword, which makes the owner stumble and fall out of the shop. The public around us stops what they're doing and watches us.

“I’m saying that all these things bring me to that conclusion. It’s either that or you’re a very careless man,” I say as I draw my sword and point it at the owner who now has his hands up.

“What would I even gain from him dying and being robbed?”

“One less worker to pay and getting the materials would be very profitable since the materials found in Corvus are more valuable than most found in the rest of the world. It would all be a net gain even if Bovis was killed before completing his deliveries since I presume that you would have the thieves pick up where he left off.”

“Okay, Okay. I confess! Everything you said was right including the part about me being careless. Times are tough, what can I say? Next time, he won’t go out on dangerous deliveries alone and I won’t get any more thieves to do anything, I swear!”

“You’re right that he won’t.”

With one quick swing of my sword, I cut one of the owner’s hands off. He screams and writhes in pain while holding the stump where his missing hand is.

“Look at that hand the next time you think of sinning. You should be thankful I let you keep one hand. Where I’m from, both hands and feet are cut off,” I say as I pass the owner. Turning around to Bovis, I say, “Thank you again for bringing me to where I was meant to go.”

“S-sure,” Bovis says.

As I make my way out of the town, two guards in light armor stop me by putting the tips of their spears on my chest.

“You can’t just go around administering vigilante justice when you want. Who do you think you are?” one of the guards says.

“I’m just a simple servant of God,” I say as I push their spears aside and continue to walk past them down a road with forests on each side.

“Hey, hey!” I can hear one of the guards scream in the distance. “I can’t stand those people from the southern kingdoms who just keep to themselves and do what they want even in our homeland.”

“Don’t mind him. Just go get a doctor for that sorry soul and write a report,” the other guard says.

This land is very different than mine. It’s warmer and the air seems cold and clear. The grass feels like silk to me and the sun feels invigorating to look at. As I keep wandering, I am ambushed by bandits with wolves to aid them. Just like the thieves I took care of previously, these foes are no match for me, especially since their weapons and the teeth of their wolves hardly scratch my fleshy left arm. Just remembering what was in the blacksmith shop and the equipment of the bandits reminds me how trade between Corvus and the northern kingdoms is nothing more than a gesture of goodwill since most of the things they offer are of lesser quality. Their animals are even of a lesser quality because none of them can be used for sinful purposes, which is not to say that animals can sin, but that the animals in Corvus act only for righteous purposes and serve only the best of men.

Continuing on, I sense something cold that reminds me of home. As I look around, I don’t see anything until a crimson mist suddenly appears from behind me. A humanoid figure as tall as I am walks to me and stops right in front of me. When the mist clears, I see a walking corpse, not like the kind of Corvus, but the kind that comes from Onocrotalus. Unlike the dry bones and flesh that characterize the people of Corvus, those from Onocrotalus are constantly bleeding, even the ones that appear to be walking corpses with exposed bones and organs. This one in front of me wears a crown of thorns and has holes in its hands and feet because of its stigmata. The only clothing it has is a black loin cloth while the rest of it is flesh, bones, and a thin layer of bleeding skin.

Before it can say anything, I quickly cut off its head with my sword. The rest of the body doesn’t move as if unphased and simply walks over to where its head fell and puts it back on. It turns to me and walks back to where it was.

“I heard you people were unkillable. I just thought I’d make sure it was true,” I say to it.

“What is your name?” the thing says in a surprisingly human voice. It’s said that these things sound like monsters or have guttural voices, however, this one sounds mostly normal except for its somewhat deep tone.

“Dunmire.”

“Fadil is my name.”

“What is your purpose here, Fadil? Why do you keep standing in front of me?”

“The answer to both questions is the same. Because God wills it.”

“Other than the obvious, please.”

“Your people and mine both know that the ways of God are mysterious and not always straightforward. I know as much as you do in terms of my arrival here.”

“I am on the path of death that will kill a part of me that is still weak, that still wants to sin, and this path is a wandering one. If you were hoping to get to a particular destination or accomplish a task, you’ll have to wait.”

“I can do that. Lead on, Dumire.”

I grunt in response and go the way that I feel that God is leading me with Fadil behind me. When I stop, he stops, and he follows in my exact footsteps as I continue walking. Night falls and we rest in a cave. All day we didn’t speak a word to one another and we didn’t speak for quite a while. Opening my eyes hours into the night, I see that Fadil has yet to close his.

“Don’t you sleep?” I ask.

“Hardly since I lost my eyelids,” Fadil says. He barely has any skin on his face, so this shouldn’t surprise me as much as it does. “I simply sleep with my eyes open if I ever do. I presume that your people do the same when they’re in a similar state as mine.”

“Mine don’t live as long as yours does.” A few moments of awkward silence pass as we stare at each other.

“Do the differences between our people matter?” Fadil asks.

“Not necessarily, though it does seem like it. One serves God through dying while the other serves through bleeding. One’s land is dry and reachable while the other’s is soaked in blood and unreachable by normal means.”

“Do the differences matter to you? You seem to be uncomfortable with my being here.”

“I am not uncomfortable with you, just curious, if anything. In terms of differences that matter, our kingdoms do have a brotherly rivalry since we’re so similar to one another just like the rivalry between the orcs of Bernhard and the fiery people of Canis, so yes and no, the differences do and don’t matter to me.”

“I see. Well, let’s have a friendly competition then to see who can serve God better in combat.”

“Do you want to fight me?”

“No. Do you hear the silent voice of God? He calls us to battle our common foe.”

I try to concentrate and ask God to reveal His will to me and feel as if I can hear something directing me somewhere, but it’s unclear as to exactly where.

“No. I still need practice in that. Perhaps after I die this next death, I’ll be able to.”

“I’ll guide us to our destination then.”

“And may the greater victory go to more faithful man.”

Fadil and I get up and follow him further into the forest until we reach a small settlement with buildings of stone and steel that have overgrown vegetation decorating them. Is this one of the many towns from the past that I’ve heard of or was this recently made to specifically be like this to be hidden? Regardless as to its origins, we find a camp full of rogue orcs dancing in rags and jewelry that hardly cover anything and drinking.

“How do you want to go about this? Quietly or with full force?” Fadil says.

“What’s the purpose of stealth for two people who are already corpses?” I ask.

“Good point.”

Blades made of blood form on Fadil’s hands as we head into the camp. Even though the orcs see us, prepare themselves for attack, and are naturally stronger than normal humans, they are no match for either of us as they can neither hurt us nor match the strength of our weapons. Fadil cuts through their numbers as if they were nothing more than ants while I kill some and leave others alive with their legs, arms, or both cut off. By the end of it, Fadil looks confused at the orcs that I left alive and approaches me.

“Why leave them alive?” he asks.

“It’s a tradition of my people. They may live and repent of their ways or know that their death is soon, repent, use their pain as penance, and be saved,” I say.

“Interesting. I disagree with this method of forced conversation, but I can’t say it’s completely wrong. Let us see if there are any more bandits left in the buildings.”

Strangely enough, we don’t find any more enemies to fight. Instead, we find slaves who were tortured and sexually abused by the bandits. Some of them thank us especially so because they would’ve been sacrificed as an offering to the false god of these rogue orcs or sold to ratmen for experimentation. Before we can think of how to help them, a band of soldiers clad in heavy armor and wielding heavy shields, spears, and crossbows from the town I was previously at approaches the town. The soldiers are shocked and astonished by what they see and are especially shocked to see us, two of whom recognize me since they are the guards who stopped me at the town’s exit.

“This guy again?” one of the guards says.

“Be thankful that he took care of these guys for us and that you didn’t end up like them,” another guard says.

The two guards-turned-soldiers look in horror at the still-living orcs and their attention isn’t turned away from them until we approach them.

“Get the ones that still live medical attention. They could repent,” I say to them.

“You don’t tell us what to do!” one guard says.

“That’s true, but it’s what we have to do regardless,” the other guard says.

“Tch.”

Fadil and I walk away from the town and leave the soldiers to clean up the mess and take care of the captives and wounded.

“I think I took out more orcs than you did,” I say.

“That’s untrue since you didn’t kill all of them,” Fadil says.

“Let’s factor in the ones I wounded then.”

“Your numbers still don’t come close to matching mine.”

“That’s because you weren’t paying attention.”

“You’re right. I was too busy fighting, but even then, I could tell who was killing more. At the very least, I didn’t get hit as much as you did.”

“That’s true, but it’s not something that I cared about or affected me at all.”

“I think it did because you’re a little delusional. Maybe you should rest.”

“I think maybe not enough blood is flowing through that head of yours to remember exactly what happened.”

Both Fadil and I chuckle a bit as if we’re trying not to laugh. The same crimson mist that Fadil walked out of appears in front of us.

“I presume you have to go,” I say.

“Yes. It was a fruitful experience being with you Dunmire. I hope to see you again,” Fadil says.

As he looks at me, I can see the faintest smile on Fadil’s face. He disappears and by the time the crimson mist completely evaporates, there’s not a trace of him left, not even the blood that leaked from his body.

“I hope to see you and win our next competition again too,” I say before continuing on my own way with a small smile that I can feel on my face.