Chapter 105: Returned 

 

Within an unknown place, there laid still a limitless expanse of glowing waters. From as far as the eye could see there was only an ethereal ocean, and black skies filled with twinkling stars. 

 

Though like all things, change appeared. Either a star fell, or maybe a meteor was descending upon the ocean. Whatever it was, something from the heavens started to fall…

 

THWACK!

 

A series of blows hit the young girl’s face. 

 

In her blurred, messy, and chaotically spinning world, the only thing she could perceive was pain, and dizzy, overwhelming nausea. 

 

Smashing blows rocked her arms, threatening to break them, and that pain only came second to the terrible aching that came from the bones in her head and her face.

 

THUD! THUD! THUD!

A few blows snuck through her desperate fortification and this time her neck could not resist the force of the blows. Her head swung back, bouncing off of the stone floor and doubling her concussive state. 

 

All the while the boy mocked and taunted her. His voice was echoing, layered and muddied, but somehow she could perceive the words clearly. 

 

“Hahahaha! You stupid fucking whore!” 

 

THUD! THUD! THUD!

 

The rocking pain from the blows took away from the focus of her thoughts, yet, strangely enough, her attention was no longer on the fight. Something the boy said forced her to totally forget her surroundings, and enter into the expanse of her mind. 

 

It was a single word from that sentence stuck out to her like a sore thumb, and she felt compelled to ponder upon its meaning. She could not be totally sure what that word meant since it wasn’t as if she saw it in a dictionary, but through her memories, among whispers and yells, she often heard her mother be described as such. 

 

Pain once again took her back to reality however, as a few more blows doubled the punishment on her arms. 

 

Miserably, she could feel her muscles break and her bones creak, Yela herself started to question why she was holding on anymore. 

 

“Stupid bitch! Do you think it ends here!?” 

 

“I’ll fuck you up until no one can recognize you anymore!”

 

“And I’ll make sure everyone you know suffers a fate worse than death!” 

 

The sound of a few more blows echoed through the cave. Finally one of Yela’s arms fell to the side, limp and utterly battered. It hit the hard stone with a soft thump, and there was no doubt the bones in that skinny arm were covered in cracks. 

 

In turn, the man that served as the young noble’s protector looked at Balon with a bloodthirsty and mocking smile. Like a trained attack dog hearing his master’s command, he was jumping in violent joy. Moreover, he was used to using his uncompromising strength to force many cruel and ruthless acts, enjoying every second of those sick deeds. 

 

On his gigantic and rough hammer there could be seen dark dried blood stains and tiny indents that lodged within them broken bone. And to those who even somewhat knew the man, there was no doubt that the hammer had seen more civilian deaths than the deaths of warriors. 

 

He grabbed at the handle of his hammer while keeping his disgusting gaze at the man on the throne. He had a habit of mocking his victims beforehand, enjoying the look they gave him. The trembling fear in their eyes at what was going to happen next— it was one of his greatest pleasures apart from doing the actual deed. 

 

Perhaps the man had killed so many innocents that his bloodlust actually gained spiritual weight, but his perverted gaze was able to alert the man sitting on the throne. 

 

Finally Balon’s attention was taken elsewhere, and briefly he moved his gaze to the man, meeting his cruel gaze with golden glowing eyes. 

 

At the sight of them the man with the hammer immediately froze.

 

If his own gaze could be described as a thick stench of blood, then the person currently looking down on him from above had the gaze of a piercing sword. 

 

From birth, majesty and power were magically imbued in those eyes, but the trait that the man with the hammer was currently feeling most, was the pure killing intent that the gaze brought. 

 

Balon’s gaze cut through the sick stench of blood and cruelty, and placed its sharp edge of a blade onto his neck. 

 

Within the dim light of the cavern the golden glow was like two fireflies in the night. To him however, they were like two lighthouses shining their beacons on him. 

 

Luckily though…those golden eyes remained on him for but only a few seconds before they lost their interest. 

 

That supernatural light had disappeared and everything seemingly went back to normal, except now the man with the hammer was left infuriated. 

 

He had unknowingly gripped his hammer so hard that his already rough hands grew callouses, but what happened next was not some life-threatening battle, instead he was disregarded like an ant beneath someone’s feet. In short, he felt humiliated.

 

The man was so incensed that he forgot all about the unnatural glow of those eyes, and recklessly decided then and there that he was going to use his gigantic hammer to break every bone in Balon’s body, smash every inch of his body’s meat into unrecognizable gore, and then drink that man’s blood and eat his flesh. 

 

…But he did not. He could not. His feet were stuck in place. His legs would not move except for some slight trembling, and his arms that gripped his hammer too, were shaking in place. 

 

The man was left ignored and fittingly, forgotten. The only thing he could do at this rate, was watch as those same eyes focus back to somewhere worth their attention. 

 

In reality only moments passed since the two’s exchange. 

 

Surprisingly the fight had not yet ended, and Yela was still enduring the pain of the boy’s strikes.

 

…Not that he would have stopped hitting the girl even if she passed out. 

 

And from the ongoing onslaught, she was on the verge of doing so. 

 

Yela was unaware of it, but a tiny thread of desperate motivation was the only thing keeping her conscious mind, from falling into the deep pool called unconsciousness. 

 

Though, moment by moment that already thin thread was unwinding. 

 

The tiny thread of motivation was like a faint voice deep within, ‘If you fall here, then forget about changing your circumstances. Forget about changing anything. Much less, changing everything.’ 

 

Rather than a voice, it was more like a strong subconscious urge, a desire or an intent. A purpose to which she held close even though she was unaware of it.  

 

…But unfortunately that voice was getting fainter and fainter each time she suffered a blow to her head. 

 

Even the will and ambition of seasoned fighters waned when delivered to such a miserable state, much less an inexperienced little girl. 

 

She still had one broken hand just barely floating above the left side of her face to protect from the blows, but that too was soon to fall. 

 

THUD!

 

Finally a slamming blow to the temple severed her connection to the conscious realms. An ethereal image of her body, along with the severed thread of her motivation, started to fall into her ocean of subconsciousness.

 

Water splattered as she crashed into the still, and motionless glowing waters. Mysteriously, no sound was heard within the inner realms of her mind. 

 

Though…it was when that ethereal body had sunken half into the pool of unknown liquid, that a change occurred. 

 

In the physical world the boy was spitting and sputtering as usual. Now that he had attained his treacherous victory, he decided to celebrate it as usual, by uttering some vile words. 

 

“Stupid bitch! Who do you think you are to challenge me!?” 

 

A few of the slaves grew furious while many of the mercenaries scoffed in disbelief. 

 

‘Weren’t you the one who started the fight!?’ 

 

THWACK! THWACK! THWACK!

 

The boy started to kick her body while she was unconscious. A blow landed on her ribs which most definitely caused a few fractures, before another delivered itself to the same location, resulting in a crunching sound. 

 

“Didn’t I say that I’d fuck you up until no one could recognize you anymore!?” 

 

THWACK!

 

“I’ll have your father’s head on a pike!” 

 

THUD! 

 

“If you have brothers I would have their hands and feet cut off!” 

 

THWACK!

 

“Your sisters I’ll turn into prostitutes and your mother into a whore!” 

 

THUD!

 

“Huh?”

 

The boy swung his leg again, but found to his displeasure that he neither heard the sweet sound of Yela’s body breaking, nor the sensation of his foot hitting a person. 

 

Unknown to the boy, those same vile and disgusting words that he often routinely spouted without challenge or consequence, were soon going to be shoved back into his mouth. 

 

Those words, and especially the last line, lit a flame of wrath within the girl that even she did not know she had. 

 

The mind was wondrous indeed, for within those realms unseen, the endless ocean of her subconsciousness started to boil with extreme, furious, heat. 

 

Bubbles started to form from the scalding fervor, and the unknown waters started to dance in rage. Within no more than a nanosecond the calm, still, and unmoving ocean formed waves, tides, cyclones and storms of boiling hot liquid. 

 

Smoke and steam started to rise from the waters. The ocean of fury made sure to fully burn Yela’s ethereal body, before throwing her out with heavenly force. A rising pillar of water shot out like a geyser, reaching into the heavens, and pushing her from cloudless skies to shining stars.

 

Her consciousness slammed back into her body, and with her sheer will along with the invigorating touch of those burning waters, she forced herself to take the reins. 

 

Her right arm that laid limp and broken suddenly gained the fierce fire of life. Eyes of pure hatred focused her muddled mind, and the blurry and doubled images within her sight started to become clear, focused and resonantly one. 

 

Sensation and feeling came back to her arm, and she gritted her teeth from the intense assault of pain. 

 

Yet pain was not the only sensation she felt within that broken arm. With the return of feeling she had also felt when her fingertips slightly brushed upon something hard and metallic. 

 

Above her a fist tried to slam its way into her face but she blocked it ever so weakly with her other hand. The force still transmitted and both her hand and face slightly caved in, yet it did not matter. Her expression of fury remained, only growing more intense. Without hesitation she reached out and grabbed the silver goblet near her other broken arm. 

 

Her arm was beaten beyond doubt but it somehow struck out like a bolt of lightning, it struck so fast the young man on top of her could not even react. 

 

The girl was intuitively talented. In her strike she sought speed over strength, thinking fast on her feet that the hardness of metal would deliver all the “punch” she needed to stun him. 

 

And she was correct. 

 

Metal met flesh and bone as a clear thunk echoed through the underground stone palace. In response the young man teetered and tottered, wavering left and right unsteadily. He groaned in pain as it was now him that was seeing two. 

 

Unfortunately he would not get to decide whether to stay upright or fall, as another thunk hit his head, followed by another. On the third strike, some blood seeped out, but just like what he was previously doing, the blows never stopped. 

 

Suddenly a different sound was heard. This time, a soft thump rang out as the young man’s body fell to the ground. 

 

Yela placed herself over him as her hand raised itself to the skies. Now it was the girl who sat on top of her opponent, relentlessly delivering blows. 

 

Within the wide empty spaces, between four bleak stone walls, the sound of, “Thunk! Thunk! Thunk!” was the only sound that could be heard.