Chapter Three – Bronze Class Settlement – Part Three
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The two surviving Silver Class men fled as soon as they realised their third had died such a horrid death, but they were doomed to never make it very far after the women of Venus had chosen to get involved.

Loud shrieks filled the air as those women slammed down like rockets into the ground all around the field.

The men stopped and stared, not quite able to believe what they were seeing with their own eyes.

“Silver?” One of them said, staring at those women in a daze.

The ladies of Venus stepped forth. Before their beautiful faces and shapely armour clad bodies, the Bronze Class peasantry they’d been after until now looked like complete dirt.

Throughout human history, the principle behind killing the men and seizing the women of a conquered land was a sadly tried and true tactic.

You could replace the indigenous population that way, making them your own and expanding your own influence. Yet, for those who bore Ash, there was another obvious reason.

Ash isn’t passed down from the father, it doesn’t matter one bit how powerful he is, it’s the mother who passes her powers down, its the mother who decides how strong the child will grow up to become.

This logic naturally meant that women with more Ash were coveted more. The fact that women of a higher class had more beautiful bodies thanks to Mutation’s influence did not in any way hinder this reality either, it obviously only contributed to it.

Should a Silver Class woman ask to join a Bronze Class Settlement she’d have no end to the influx of interested suitors. Conversely if a small Bronze Class Settlement that had no power to protect such an asset came into possession of her then they could expect to be invaded or at least threatened by their neighbours.

For these lowly nobodies, the sight of twenty four women, the very least of which was a Silver Class stronger even than they were, was a genuinely mind blowing concept.

When the four Gold Class that led these women then stepped forward into the eyes of these men, they might as well have been walking goddesses.

Those four then raised their swords and pointed them forward, their purpose was clear to everyone here.

“Done looking?” One of them asked, and then she affirmed, “Good, us too.”

The men finally realised what was unfolding before their eyes, but they remained ignorantly bold.

Perhaps their boldness wasn't wholly unfounded, physically speaking they knew after all that a Silver Class woman’s Mutation only granted her a body as strong as a Bronze Class man’s.

That was simply the inescapable reality of the homosapien species, the men were built to fight, the women plainly not.

Unfortunately for the fools, in this particular instance at least, that ancestral reality was rendered totally irrelevant.

These women were better armoured, better trained and finally even if the Bronze Class men could match one of them blow for blow physically what did that count for in the face of Manifestation's gift?

The girls bathed their swords in silver-white light, then swung them forward. The men tumbled back, their comrades at the front were turned swiftly into dust.

Only the men at the far back could even think about trying to flee, but then they could only receive a cruel reminder of what, or rather who, was lurking right behind them.

They finally gave up hope, there was nothing left for them but death as they watched Rapture, that little monster, walking over.

“Why?” One of them cried as his comrades fell to their knees all around him. He must have figured Rapture for the leader of this bunch, and so he addressed him with his bitter eyes. “Why are you defending them?”

Rapture frowned, he did not answer. One of the women grit her teeth, she spat out words in his place.

“Should we just ignore what you’re doing? Just sit back and watch as you pillage, burn, murder and...violate?” The last word fell from her tongue with amplified levels of disgust and hatred, it didn’t bear explaining why.

Yet the man’s reaction surprised the young lass who spoke. He seemed shocked by her words, then he began to laugh, after that he began to cry, but he no longer looked afraid, instead he looked enraged, perhaps even indignant.

His laughter was the mad kind, born of deep despair and hatred. Her words were the cause, not his coming end.

“So when they do it to us, it’s ok is it?” He spat back. The woman who had spoken then stood frozen for one moment, and then it took her another to understand what he was insinuating.

She opened her mouth to speak back, to spit out the venomous rage in her throat, but before she ever could do so the man plunged his own blade into his neck in a rage.

They watched, all in silence, as he collapsed. His body bled out upon the wet, muddy ground.

His eyes turned hazy, became lost in the fog. He shed tears, then smiled serenely as if he was finally at peace. That young woman of Venus was speechless, and so was Rapture too.

Sighs and shaking heads abounded, for the oldest of the women from Venus knew better than the ignorant youngsters.

Indeed no matter how horrible the scene before them might have been they knew they should not have stepped in. They had no context to judge who was the greater villain, but it did not matter. Most likely, both sides were equally abhorrent, it was often the way of things.

The boy, Rapture, was briefly lost in his own little world after that. He could not avoid looking down into the fallen man's faded pupils.

The hatred held within those eyes, he knew he had seen it before. Indeed he had seen it in every puddle, every glass, in his every reflection in the eyes of others about him.

His Ash receded back into his body as he turned to face the silent crowd. Their eyes were all upon him, he who was lost in his thoughts.

He pondered the Vanir God, Rognir, who had robbed him of his mother. He pondered Cain, who had robbed him of his mentor. He pondered the Nidhogg, who had robbed him of his father. He pondered how he hated them, all of them, to his core. Then, finally, he pondered where that hatred might yet lead him?

The boy turned and looked upon the ruin. Nothing remained, everything was burned to dust. Yet before the fires burned their sins away, how many crimes had the people of this settlement also committed? How many men were killed by them? How many women abducted and forced to accept violation by, or remarriage to, the murderers of their lovers, fathers, sons and brothers? How many children had those people slaughtered? How innocent were these people whom they had just stepped in to save?

The question nagged at the back of his mind all the way as he strolled back to camp. Together with the women of Venus, he returned to Lucretia’s side. The silent field then was loudly assaulted by the echo of a resounding slap.

The Princess’ palm had struck him, and quite hard at that, on the cheek.

“Satisfied?” She asked him. The boy’s eyes trembled, but he couldn’t face her, he could do nothing other than turn his gaze upon the dry, arid ground.

“We’re leaving,” Said Lucretia as she then passed him by, “The rest of you, pick up a bag and get moving.” The twenty four women who had assisted Rapture awoke from their stupor. Some looked upon him with pitying gazes, others however were too shaken to dare dilly dally a moment longer. The veterans, however, merely felt melancholy, as if they'd seen it all before.

 ______________________________________________

High above in the heavens a woman walked with graceful gait. Her pitch black dress waved in the wind as she watched over Rapture from on high.

She shook her head and then closed her eyes with a sigh.

She was an Einherjar, a lesser god, subordinate to the Vanir, and she was named Dire of Lycan.

She was Rognir’s servant specifically, and she was also Rapture’s ancestor.

Her lord had left her behind to keep watch over his current interests, that and nothing more.

She opened her eyes anew and looked upon her shaken descendant with sympathy.

The harsh lessons of life spared no one, not even the ones you held closest to you.

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