Cherreads

Chapter 7 - A Talk

Lone stood before the final Bestial, its fur now dirtied with blood and its frail body nothing more than a shivering mess. His gaze bore down on it before he raised [Fluttering Maw] and slashed down. The Bestial was cut in half, and its cry was cut short with it.

Lone pulled the spear back before he glanced at the blade. He could see cracks forming in it and the wooden shaft breaking under his grip. He stared for a bit before walking back to the cart. As he walked, he did not care about the bodies under him and walked on them, even if it would have been smarter to just walk over them.

Once Lone had arrived at the cart, he grabbed [Slone] and studied it. He raised it up and down, comparing its weight to that of [Fluttering Maw].

"Just as I thought, [Slone] is heavier than [Fluttering Maw]. Is that why it's breaking under my attacks? Because it was made of a weak material? No, most likely it was made with good material, but was not made for me, unlike [Slone]. It was not made to withstand [Spearhead] and so useless to me," Lone thought as he raised [Slone] high into the air and was prepared to slash onto [Fluttering Maw], but at the last second, an unknown force stopped him from swinging.

Lone tried using more force, yet the spear would not budge. He slowly lowered it and used [Inspection] on it.

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[Slone]- A gift made by an old blacksmith to his son. Hoping that he would use it to wander the world instead of growing old in a town like himself. But bathed in the blood of his creator, the spear has gone silent, only awakening when its wielder faces an enemy that it deems as an enemy. Skill: [Rejuvenice]- A skill that allows the user to regain all lost energy and partially heal from any wound inflicted. Can only be used once per day.

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"... this is bad. It seems the spear won't attack unless it itself deems someone as an enemy. Is that why when I tried to raise it against the beasts, it wouldn't budge? Because it didn't see them as an enemy?" Lone muttered outloud. He looked around the battlefield and saw no one alive. No beast lived through his attack, and it seemed that those soldiers died in it.

This was bad, since he had no idea where he was. Lone stood there as he pondered what to do. He could wander around the forest and try to find civilization, but he doubted that he would be able to before beasts like before found him, or if he somehow died by starvation or dehydration.

"Well, there is one way," Lone said as he glanced at the cart that was his ride. He could see the armored legs of his savior who had set him free. Though the man was currently passed out, he would awaken at some point, and one of two things could happen. Either the man would attack him or ask him to surrender. 

Of the two options, he would choose the latter, since the man is most likely to bring him to civilization, or to some form of civilization. So, in the end, Lone's fate hung in that man's hands once he woke up.

"Before that, I might as well get some armor," Lone said as he tried to activate [Slone] skill, but failed. He expected this, but it was still a pain in the butt. He was currently covered in cuts that were bleeding. Though they weren't life threatening, they still hurt and could pose a problem for him in the future. But mainly they hurt like hell. Sure, he moved faster than those slow beasts, but they did get a few cuts in.

So he wandered around the battlefield and began searching the bodies of the dead. Using [Inspection] on their gear to find anything valuable or anything that he could use later down the line.

.

.

.

"Wake up."

A voice is what I heard. It was cold and stern, commanding even. My eyes slowly fluttered open as images appeared. The trees and the dark sky hung above me. To my right was some kind of warmth and light.

"Hey, get up before I cut you in half," the voice said, the cold tone sharper this time. My body slowly got up as I clutched my head, my head pounding. I flinched as I grabbed my right arm in pain. Yet when I grabbed it, instead of feeling nothing, I felt something strange. I felt something whole and strong.

"Before you waste more time, your arm is back, and that is because you became a Wielder. Congrats," the voice spoke as I then heard metal footsteps walking towards me. I looked up to see a figure wearing mismatched metal armor, some were bulky, while others were thin. There was even a fur cape fluttering on the back of the figure that seemed to cover most of their body. They held two spears, one was curved with spikes on its back, while the other had its blade as long as a sword. Though the one with spikes seemed to be worn out, as there were cracks and splinters on its surface.

If I were to describe him, then I would have to say he looked like one of those juggernauts that guard the forts. Though small, he gave off the feeling of oppression they had. His silence and straightforward attitude only make this more accurate.

"Here, your blade," the figure said as they tossed the curved spear onto my lap. I was confused and prepared to ask him, but he beat me to it.

"It's my ability, I turned your sword into a spear so I could use it more efficiently. Unfortunately, it could not handle my might and has been left in that state. You can either leave it or find a new one," the figure said as they walked towards a fire behind them and sat down.

I slowly got up and walked towards them. As I did, I could see piles of armor and weapons lying next to him. The figure grabbed a dagger and inspected it for a bit before tossing it away. I sat on the otherside of the fire.

"You're the prisoner, right?" I said, looking at the figure. They didn't say anything and just continued scrounging from the pile, "... why didn't you kill me?"

The figure paused for a bit before saying, "Because I need you."

"Why do you need me?" I say as I look past the fire's embers and into the cold darkness of his helmet.

"You are the only one who knows their way through the forest, and from what I heard while being chained. It would seem that those creatures you call "Bestials" were not meant to be in this forest, and if that is the case, then aimless travel is a death sentence. So my best chance is to follow you wherever you're taking me, even if it's a bad fate. Death is a fate I would love to avoid, even if it means surrendering myself," the figure said as he grabbed a hammer.

"... my name is Stewart," I said as I extended my hand over the fire.

The figure stared at my hand for a bit before tossing the hammer away and shaking it, "Lone is my name."

I nod as I stare at the flames. I sat there for several seconds, trying my best to think of what I am to do now. He agrees with me quite well, yet I know it's only because he has nowhere to go. If he did, I would not be standing before this fire, basking in its heat. This figure, who was nothing more than a boy, is something else. I wonder what he faced?

Suddenly, a light flashed, causing me to close my eyes. The light lasted for several moments before finally disappearing. I opened my eyes and saw in his hand a spear, though calling it a spear didn't give it any truth.

In his hand was a spear whose blade was spiraled like that of a hundred roots being kept in one form, and its form was far bigger than the spear itself. At most, I would have called it a balista bolt if not for the fact that he held it so easily in his hands.

He slowly stood up and held the spear in his right hand. He turned and faced a tree far from him. He bent his body down as he aimed the spear. From this distance, he should not be able to hit the tree. With a single thrust, the spear lunged forward.

Suddenly, the blade unraveled, and hundreds of small white things slithered outwards and struck the tree. The crisp sound of wood being pierced riddled my ears. As Lone pulled back, I could see hundreds of small holes appearing on the tree's surface.

Lone glanced down at the spear in his hand before grabbing the shaft and snapping it in two.

"Useless," he said as he tossed the remains into the fire. As he did so, I finally saw what he used to quell the flames. I saw the hollow carcases of spears inside the flames. Many small, and others large, yet they were all used as fuel to power the flames.

I looked at his face. Though I could not see his eyes, under the darkness of his helm. I could feel his gaze lingering on me.

"I do not need useless things."

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