After Marlon's liberating massacre, he slept like a log in one of his victims' tents. He didn't mind having the bodies just a few feet away from him, and for a few seconds, after he woke up, he thought that something was broken inside him. Perhaps his humanity was disappearing?

But he had no desire to indulge in personal introspection, so he chased those thoughts away as quickly as they had appeared.

When he awoke, insects were beginning to prowl around the bodies, so he did not linger. He did, however, retrieve what he found useful. A sharp knife that he could use to butcher the creatures, a few empty vials, and two unarmed wolf traps that lay carelessly near the now extinguished fireplace.

Even with his insensitivity, he still struggled with the metallic and rotting smells that were beginning to emanate from the macabre scene. Once he was sure he hadn't left anything important behind, he set off again.

Direction the banks of the lake and the hamlets he had seen there.

After one or two hours of walking, and after having washed roughly in the stream, he found himself in front of the entrance of the gigantic orchards seen before, and he decided to buy some fresh fruits, just to change his diet a little.

As far as he could see, tall trees stood like behemoths. All were laden with fruit of different colors. Some were yellow, others purple. He even saw some that were as black as jet.

What appeared to be humans worked the long aisles separating the various varieties of fruit, transporting them in some sort of wooden rolling carts. Despite their frantic pace, not a single load fell, which was a miracle considering their size. He could hardly push one of the wheelbarrows without tipping it over.

A few yards from the entrance, a sort of open-air building served as a covered market, and a man seemed to be running it. Numerous crates containing vegetables and fruits were scattered on massive wooden shelves, and Marlon was amazed by the choice.

He had never seen so much fresh produce in his life!

Stepping forward to the man who was giving him an amorphous look and machining something forcefully, he put on a modest smile and asked in a humble tone:

"Hello, sir. I'm impressed with all these products you have! I would love to buy some from you, would that be possible?"

The man continued to look him up and down and he vulgarly spat out what he was chewing up until then outside the covered warehouse.

"Yeah, that should be able to be done...what's up, rupin?"

The strong accent with which the individual in front of him spoke surprised the young man but he did not let anything show on his face.

"Some fruits and vegetables from the orchard, so put some of everything. I only have ten copper coins, so I'd be happy to buy it all from you for less."

The man's eyes gleamed with greed and his amorphous state was suddenly transformed into an energizing spirit.

"Haha, but for sure, mister! I'm going to get all this for you, so don't move! On the other hand, here, it's all paid in advance. We don't like thieves too much, don't we understand?

Although it took Marlon a few seconds to decipher what the peasant had told him, he did not balk and handed over the ten coins, which disappeared in less than a second into the hands of his interlocutor.

The latter bowed and left without hurrying towards the outside of the building. Not understanding why he had run away when the food was apparently all there, the young man took his trouble and waited.

After a few minutes, someone came from the orchard and took the seller's place. Except it wasn't the same man. He looked at Marlon with the same arrogance as the previous man and said nothing, just stared at him.

"Eu...excuse me, but I gave the vendor money and he has to bring me my fruit."

"Wassup? Is not happy, the rupin? Never pay before you see the goods! They never taught you that? If you want, I'll take your little kitten and I'll grill it for you. It'll taste good, don't worry!"

This guy had the same thick accent like the one before, and Marlon began to realize that he was being conned. Mad with rage that he had been taken for a sucker, he started to draw his sword but stopped immediately when he saw about fifteen other similar guys coming from all sides.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you. You may be a tough guy, but there's more than two hundred of us working in this place. Here you go, take what you want and get out of here as fast as you can. If not, we'll cut you up," said the salesman, throwing him a small case that could barely hold a kilo or two of products.

The young man wanted to kill them all. He wanted to draw his sword and run into them, doing as much damage as possible. To gut them, to see the pain and regret on their faces as he gutted them in a concert of screams that he would enjoy.

It must have shown in his eyes, for he felt all the men facing him stiffen imperceptibly as his killing intent literally transpired from every pore of his skin. But there were too many of them. Marlon knew he could take probably half of them with him to the grave, but no more.

He forced himself to calm down and took a deep breath to avoid giving in to his primal instincts, but it was difficult. He was being ripped off in a big way, and there was nothing he could do about it. He hadn't expected this, and as a result, none of the Runes he could have used were ready to be used...

He bit his lips and the taste of blood flowed in his mouth. His lack of foresight had just played a dirty trick on him.

Without lingering, more out of fear of giving in to violence and dying foolishly than out of fear of his opponents, he filled his crate with some fresh-looking fruit and left the orchard as quickly as possible.

He gave them one last look as he left and vowed that he would not let them off so easily, even if he had to come back later for revenge. They all smiled indecently and one of them even waved goodbye.

I will kill them all, I swear!

This thought haunted Marlon for many minutes after he left the orchard. He walked over to a tree in the forest foliage and drew his sword. Full of hatred, he began to strike the tree, shouting his frustration and anger. Only when his arms were sore and his breath was short did he stop.

By dint of hitting him, the tree, which he would have had difficulty in circling with his arms, was cut halfway across and was threatening to fall. His sword, which had just been used as an axe, was chipped along most of its length and he felt instantly angry. But he could not control his anger. When it rose in him, it erased everything in its path. Both reason and humanity disappeared and were replaced by an unquenchable thirst for blood and violence.

He took a deep breath, feeling that the exercise had done him good, then he headed towards the lake, finally leaving the relatively monotonous meadow in which he had been walking for more than a week. The grass was getting thinner and thinner, turning into hard gray rock with pebbles. Some were the size of a fingernail, others the size of a fist.

Marlon really liked the different shades of gray they had, making it like a gigantic contrasting mosaic. What he liked much less was the pain he felt with every step he took.

The shoes he was wearing, a gift from Selia, had almost no soles, and he could feel absolutely everything under the soles of his feet. With Akranio's resources, it was no wonder the quality was low, but he still would have hoped it would last a little longer. Beside him, Luna wandered happily, occasionally uttering a few questioning meows as he swore hobbled across the pebbles.

He was more than happy to arrive at the fence of one of the coastal hamlets he had spotted a few days earlier. Who would have thought that it would have taken so much walking to reach it?

There were no guards in front of the entrance, and as soon as he passed the walls, he was assailed by a very strong smell of rotting fish. So strong that tears came to his eyes and he almost vomited.

His chimera was jumping up and down with excitement, nibbling on his leg every few jumps. He understood that fish must be one of her favorite dishes, and he promised himself to look for some for her.

As if to match the stench, the houses and other buildings in the hamlet all looked old, worn, and weathered. The roofs were mostly leaky, the walls lacked maintenance and the store signs looked dilapidated. Everything was a pale gray color, much like the ground he had walked on so far.

Here and there, large wooden drying racks were filled with gutted fish, and he understood where the smell was coming from.

He was surprised by how few people were in the streets. He saw only three or four, all of whom looked at him with uncontained contempt. When he passed them, they even spat behind him and shouted at him in a language he did not understand. He remembered Selia's warning, once again, and promised himself not to hang around in that village. The orchard episode was burned into his mind and he had not yet had a chance to prepare himself properly. He had to quickly find a blacksmith, then an inn where he could glean some information.

For the first, it was quick. A rickety sign representing a hammer striking an anvil adorned one of the houses a few dozen meters from the village entrance. The streets were straight and without detours, which made orientation very easy.  He saw that the door was open, so he did not hesitate to enter the store.

The smell of heated metal and leather reassured him somewhat but did nothing to calm the relatively foul mood he was in. The store itself stood out against the decrepit exterior, and he was amazed to see the shelves filled with weapons and various pieces of armor, neatly lined up and arranged. Behind a glossy wooden counter stood a tan man, and he looked at Marlon with a slight hint of arrogance in his eyes.

"Good morning,  dear customer! What can I do to help you?"

His accent was less pronounced than that of the orchard workers he had met earlier, so the young man did not need to decipher what he was saying. What's more, he was friendly and smiling, so he relaxed slightly, still keeping a hint of suspicion active in his mind.

"Hello, sir. I'll need to repair my blade, and maybe buy some supplies from you. Lightweight chain mail as well as leather armor, if you have that."

The salesman seemed to think hard as he looked at Marlon, and finally nodded.

"Show me your blade, sir."

He didn't ask for it and as soon as he did, a disapproving hiss passed the man's lips.

"Fiiiiiiiouuuu, did you hit him against some rock, or what? No disrespect, but that's not how you treat a blade! You'll have to change the blade. I can't do miracles, sir.

"In that case, sell me a sword, please..."

His interlocutor nodded and stepped out from his counter while removing the equipment Marlon wanted from the shelves. By the time he was finished, a substantial pile had piled up on a previously empty table.

"Here you go, sir. I'll give you all this for one silver piece and fifty brass ones."

The young man had about one hundred and sixty copper coins that he had accumulated during his stay in Akranio, and since one silver coin represented one hundred copper coins, he would have nothing left after this transaction. But he needed it.

He had decided to equip himself a little more accordingly when he left the orchard. He needed to be able to take a few hits without necessarily being seriously injured and be able to deal with opponents more numerous than him. And after training hard, he could at least draw some runes on the armor to be faster and protect himself more.

"Very well, but in exchange for this sum, would you have a place where I could rest?"

Marlon had seen the staircase carelessly hidden behind a poorly unfolded curtain and crossed his fingers that it led to a room. He needed an hour or two of quiet time to draw his runes, no more.

The man facing her thought for a long time before nodding slowly.

"I'll lend you my room, but only because you're a decent customer. Don't make a mess, eh? I was going to close the shop, and I'm going to go rinse my throat properly thanks to you."

Marlon followed him and after climbing the stairs with his purchases, he was promptly abandoned by the salesman as he was in a clean but spartan room. No furniture except the bed, bare wooden walls without any decoration, and a wooden window opening closed by two damaged shutters.

After hearing the store door close, he didn't waste a second and lined up his new possessions neatly on the floor. He set aside his old, holey shoes and ignored the stench that came from them as he removed them.

On pieces of cloth that he recovered from his damaged clothes, he traced a few runes Race and Spark, without completing them completely, which would allow him to react quickly if the need arose.

He managed to draw two of each, then decided that would be enough.

Exhausted, he fell back on the bed and let his mind drift for a long time. He didn't fall asleep, and after a while he decided to put away all the mess he had left, thinking that the salesman wouldn't be very happy to see his little room quiet in such a state.

He opened the window to air out the room and remove the faint metallic smell of the blood he had used to draw the runes, as well as that of his shoes, which seemed to hang in the air with force.

He was about to go back to bed when he heard a noise from the first floor. He froze and focused his attention on what he heard, but it only took him a few seconds to understand when he heard the salesman's voice chuckling and talking about the room upstairs. They were coming to strip him of all his possessions. He had already given away all his money, now they had to get the goods.

Seriously, I almost deserve to be robbed. Selia had clearly warned me and I didn't listen. Holy shit!

Without wasting a second, he pulled the bed violently in front of the door and blocked it as best he could. Then he started to put on his armor, crossing his fingers to have enough time. The rage had taken possession of him and he was very angry about it.

The people who had come to steal it must have suspected something when they heard the commotion overhead, and after an unsuccessful attempt to open the door great blows were made against it. It was not very solid, so holes appeared very quickly as axe blows were given more and more frantically against the door.

"It's stuck with your damn bed, Turion! Come on, guys, let's hurry up and pop this!"

The voice that had sounded exuded rage and the young man thought it was a very bad idea to hang around. He hurriedly put on the last pieces of his armor and when it was done, he prepared to fight.

Those who had come to rob him looked like a good dozen, and he felt a cold sweat run down his back. He stepped forward, blade in hand, and swung as hard as he could. He felt a resistance that quickly gave way and a bloody borborygma as he brought his blade to him. It was now coated with blood and he was glad to have wounded at least one of them.

"Guys, the cockroach is fighting back! Stop it, he's going to skewer us like butterflies if we go on like this! Turion, go get two crossbows downstairs and take twenty bullets from them too. Let's play a little, hahaha!"

Marlon felt sick as he heard the phrase from whoever was supposed to be the leader. He could only catch glimpses of blurred silhouettes behind the holes cut in the door, but he knew for a fact that if they just shot tiles through, they would eventually get him. The young man was beginning to feel out of options, but at no point did panic take hold of him.

He took inventory of the solutions he had left, and there were not many.

Either he stayed and did his best to kill them. But given the equipment they had and the number of them, Marlon's chances were very low.

He could also set fire to the wood the room was made of, but he would probably choke before they did, which in itself was a very bad idea.

The last solution was the one he liked least, but he had a better chance of succeeding. He would set the room on fire with a rune, then jump out the window and hope he didn't hurt himself too much on the landing. There was a slope on the roof before he reached the ledge, but the height he would fall from was still four meters. Enough to break a bone or two if he landed badly...

He heard someone's footsteps coming up the stairs, and he knew his time was up. He made his decision and pulled a sheet of parchment from his bag, drawing the Spark rune with desperate but powerful intent without hesitation. When he finished and a powerful flame erupted from the scroll, immediately beginning to devour the wood and spread, he put his pack on his back, finished tracing one of the Race scrolls before activating it, and dashed like a rabbit to the window.

His speed was multiplied by the spell and he shattered the two wooden shutters as his leap carried him farther than the slope of the roof. He put his arms forward to protect himself from hitting the wall of the building across the street, which he had reached in less than a second. Who knew his runes would be so effective and play a trick like that?

The first impact was manageable, but when he bounced and landed on his back, his pack absorbing most of the impact, the air was forced from his lungs and he found himself momentarily unable to breathe. He could now hear in the distance the exclamations of those who wanted to rob him. They shouted in rage as they thought Marlon was being roasted in the furnace that was beginning to devour the entire building. Thick black smoke was now coming out of the window and the young man congratulated himself for having chosen the most extreme solution, otherwise, he would have been fried like a piece of steak on a campfire. Luna, for her part, had followed him at a leisurely pace, jumping from roof to window without any difficulty, not looking the least bit worried about what was happening.

When he was able to breathe normally again, he stood up and started to run towards the shore. Fortunately, there were still so many people in the streets, and Marlon was charging like a raging bull through the streets of the hamlet. His forearms ached, but he ignored the pain and hoped he would find an empty boat so he could get away through the water. His pursuers would soon realize that he hadn't burned out in the room, and the two people he passed had such a nasty look on their faces that the young man did not doubt that they would tell the first person who saw him.

He finished the second Run rune and activated it as the effect of the first faded and he began to run with all his might.

"Guys, he's out! This freak jumped!"

They were a lot faster than I thought they would be...come on speed up!

His spell was definitely the thing that saved his life. The wind was whistling in his ears and he was moving faster than a normal human should be able to.

Tchac, Tchac!

Two crossbow bolts went into his pack and he felt their pressure on his back, nearly tripping and falling from the force of the impact. If he had left it in the room, he would have died twice already!

Never losing his rhythm, he zigzagged down the street to minimize the chances of being hit by the projectiles again. He heard them whistling in his ears and saw them ricocheting off the walls in front of him. He suddenly turned right as the voices of his pursuers became more and more distant and he finally saw what would surely save his life: the shoreline.

The hamlet wasn't big, but under the rush of adrenaline, it felt like he had been running for many minutes. In reality, it had been barely forty seconds. He saw two pontoons, one on his left and the other straight ahead. Seeing that both of them had boats moored to them, he ran to the nearest one, straight ahead, and in an instant he had cut the mooring line with a sword stroke, pushing with all his strength on the pontoon.

The boat, which could not have carried more than three people, was propelled forward and quickly moved away from the shore. His pursuers, on the other hand, arrived far behind and when they saw where their target was, shouted in rage, insulting him copiously.

"You coward, you better come back! We just wanted to rob you, not hurt you!"

They seemed really sad to let a prime prey like Marlon escape. He couldn't help but think that his pursuers were relentless and he almost blamed himself for not having confronted them. He would have died, but it sure would have been a great fight! He shook his head at the thought of a confrontation that would have only brought him to a violent and quick end. He turned around and saw that Luna had jumped into the boat without him realizing it. This cat was really incredible! At no time did the young man care and yet there he was, unperturbed, doing his toilet as if nothing had happened.

He wasted no time and grabbed the two oars screwed to the sides of the ship before starting to row energetically to get further away from the pontoon and the crossbow bolts that were still flying and not passing very far from Marlon.

Once several dozen yards were between him and his pursuers, the young man relaxed slightly and suddenly began to shake all over his body as the adrenaline slowly ebbed and the nervous tension in him subsided.

This time, it was close...they will pay me dearly.

He laughed nervously, sounding deeply hysterical after narrowly escaping death several times in a row. He would be much more attentive to the advice he was given next time...