Questing Sucks (Book 1) (13 page)

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Authors: Kevin Weinberg

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BOOK: Questing Sucks (Book 1)
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Nero spat in the man’s face, before Cah’lia showed up with the biggest look of worry he had ever seen on her. “Nero!” she called out, grabbing his arms.

“Get back here, now! That’s a Drashian Overseer, you fool, and they are above the law in Koringrath. I’m going to whip your rump so bad when we get back to the inn. Sir, I apologize if my little brother has caused any trouble.”

The man wiped the spit from his face, his eyes cold and promising death. “Your apology is not accepted, Elf-scum. This one has just spat in my face. To my people, that is among the most serious insults one can make. I demand either his head, or his person to be taken as my slave.”

Cah’lia’s eyes widened in terror. “Hold on a second,” she said. “There is no reason to take things this far. He’s just a boy.”

“I don’t care what he be, miss. For what he just done, I’ll take either his head or his service.”

Before the man could even reach for his weapon, Cah’lia’s dagger was already out, bright against the sun’s reflection. Nero watched as his sister charged at the man, blade held extended in front of her in killing position. She leaped at the man, who grunted in surprise as he held out his shoulder to shield his face. The dagger cut through his forearm, causing him to hiss.

In one swift motion, he grabbed Cah’lia by the back of the head and threw her to the ground. She landed on the pavement with a groan. Nero couldn’t believe what he was seeing. The man didn’t appear bothered by the gash in his forearm, and he strolled over to Cah’lia like a hunter approaching dying prey.

“No, that’s my sister!” Nero shouted. He tried to grab the man’s legs. They were like tree trunks. He was unable to slow the man, let alone stop him. Yet Nero must’ve caused him some annoyance, because he picked Nero up by the throat, causing Nero to wiggle his legs as he dangled midair, his oxygen cut off.

“You’ll fetch me a high price on the market, you will. Elven boys are in demand, be a shame to kill yas.”

Nero was certain he’d die. His body begged him for air. The man gripped even tighter and seemed to enjoy his pain.

“Well isn’t that odd,” said a voice from behind. The large man whirled around, dragging Nero midair by the throat with him as he turned. Nero worried his neck would snap.

“If I didn’t know better, I’d say someone was trying to steal my disciple.”

Nero felt the pressure fade around his throat as he was dropped to the ground. He breathed in the fresh air through his oxygen-starved lungs and grinned. “Sehn!” he called, tears beginning to form.

The muscular man turned to the Elf. Sehn’s passionate green eyes burned with a deep hatred.

“Another Elf, huh?” the man spat. “You with this little brat? I sure hope so. Elven slaves be
offerin
’ the highest value.”

“Slave?” Nero didn’t think it was possible, but if Sehn’s eyes burned with a hatred before, then now they were an inferno.

“You dare to call the Great Sehn a slave, peasant!”

The overseer frowned. “Elf!” he shouted. “I am a Drashian Overseer. Do you have any idea of who you just called a peasant?”

Sehn laughed. It was a rueful, vulgar sound. “Oh? You’re a ‘Drashian Overseer’ are you? And that is what, exactly?”

The overseer laughed, his mirth doing a poor job of covering his rage. “Let me tell you a little something, pathetic Elf. Nothing in this world upsets a Drashian more than groundless insults. Perhaps as I am slowly ripping the skin off of your face, I’ll leave your vocal chords intact so you can apologize and beg for your unworthy life.”

“You dare make such threats of the Great Sehn! Perhaps I shall make
you
apologize while I am using your bones to create a fucking harp!”

All pretense of amusement left the two as the air thickened with violence. The overseer roared at Sehn,
“Never in my life have I been insulted this way, Elf! I am going to delight in your suffering!”

The man unsheathed his sword, ignoring the trickle of blood spilling down his forearm. Cah’lia tried to yell something at Sehn, but her voice was an inaudible moan.

“I don’t know what a Drashian is,” Sehn yelled back, “but I’ve just decided that I fucking hate them!”

“Remmos Salas!”
Sehn cried as a fireball sped towards the overseer.

What happened next shocked not only Nero, but judging from the gasps from both in front and behind him, Sehn and the barely conscious Cah’lia were equally as surprised. The fireball collided with the man, causing him to grunt, and even take a step back, but other than that, there was no apparent damage.

The overseer licked his lips. “I’ve got a few spell-wielding slaves, Elf. Don’t act so surprised.”

“Ah well, screw magic.” Sehn unsheathed his Elven blade.

Nero trembled in fear as the two prepared to face off.

 

 

Chapter 12: Sehn vs. the Overseer

 

The sound of metal against leather reverberated in the air as Sehn unsheathed the Elven blade he’d stolen from Calen. Light reflected off the tip of the sharp weapon, and Sehn could see the reflection of the massive Human on the surface of the glimmering blade.

This was the second time in Sehn’s life he found himself on the verge of a fight for life and death. The first was in the Death Woods, and now it would be against this fool. Sehn was not just angry—he was furious. Never had someone insulted him the way this man had. The fool had threatened to rip off his skin and make him beg for mercy. And the way he had mistreated Sehn’s disciple…Sehn was ready to cut him in half.

By the time I get done with him,
he’ll
chew on every last disrespectful word!

The small slave girl, barely older than Nero, cried as the two prepared themselves for the coming violence. The Drashian glanced her way and frowned.

“This be your fault, Rina, and you’re gonna pay for what yas done. Did you give that Elven boy some puppy-eyed look? I’ll be making sure that you don’t eat for a week for this. Get back in your cage. I’ll be dealing with you when I’ve killed this Elf.”

Rina began to cry. Tears streaked down her bruised, unwashed face.

Sehn didn’t think it possible for him to become any angrier than he already was, yet he surprised even himself as he watched the exchange between the girl and her master. The trembling child picked up a small key off the floor, backed away into her cage, and then closed the door, locking herself inside the small space that looked as if it were made to store animals. Sehn forced himself to let out a slow, rueful laugh, and he glared at the overseer.

“I underestimated you,” he said. “I thought you were a weakling, but clearly that’s not the case. After all, it takes a big and powerful man to beat up on little girls. You must have spent many years training to have acquired such strength.”

The overseer bit his lip and narrowed his eyes on Sehn. “You’re going to pay for every word, Elf. I be about to cut you open real good.” A small pool of blood oozed from his lower lip.

“Hah! I think not. The Great Sehn is going to cut out your heart and wear it as a necklace! In fact, when I get through with you, I think I will mount your head on my wall back at home.”

“I’ve heard enough from you, Elf. Prepare to beg for your life.”

Sehn circled the man, keeping outside the reach of the Drashian’s longer blade. They both made halfhearted swings as they circled one another, attacks not meant to cause damage but to feel out their opponent. Caution was imperative at the beginning of any duel as, once an opening was found, the outcome of the fight was usually decided within seconds.

The Drashian Overseer jabbed out his blade, sending small thrusts Sehn’s way. Sehn dodged the attacks easily enough, and with each jab, he approached closer and closer to the Drashian. A second later, the brutish overseer made the first move.

A twitch in his right eye was the only warning Sehn received—but it was enough. The man charged at him. With tremendous might he brought his blade down on top of Sehn. Acting fast, Sehn dove at the ground and landed into a roll, bringing himself out of harm’s way. The overseer’s blade smashed into the pavement, and with near superhuman strength it broke through, causing chunks of stone to scatter on impact.

The man bent down and, wrapping his tremendous fists around the base of his weapon, he tugged to pull it out of the ground. Before he could raise the tip of the blade from the broken pavement, Sehn stood up from his roll and charged at him. The Drashian was able to raise his blade to parry just in time as Sehn’s Elven blade, which was aimed for his chest, collided with his long sword, resulting in a massive
clang
and a shower of sparks.

Sehn struggled against the massive overseer as their two blades remained crossed. Sehn pushed with all his strength, but the man overpowered him with ease, pushing Sehn’s blade farther and farther back.

Sehn abruptly retreated a step, and the quick, unexpected movement caused the Drashian to overcompensate and stumble forward. Sehn, now behind the man, brought his blade down in an attempt to slice the man’s back. Once again the overseer was quick to recover. In one fluid motion, he spun around and parried just in time, resulting in another shower of sparks.

Sehn took a deep breath and eyed the man. He realized they were now toe-to-toe. Sehn knew that this was where things became bloody; it was time to clash.

And so it began. Sehn lashed out at the overseer with all his might, the sound of blade hitting blade echoing through the now silent merchant area. For what seemed like an eternity, Sehn stood his ground against the brute force of the Drashian, refusing to yield even an inch and returning every blow received. Each time one of them attacked, the other parried. Sweat poured down Sehn’s face as he danced to the melody of death and steel.

As his breathing rate increased, Sehn realized he was quickly tiring. It killed him to admit it, but his opponent had too much going for him in the way of brute force; there was no way that Sehn could win by attempting to overpower the bastard. So he waited for the right moment to change the tide of the battle while he continued to stand his ground and clash steel.

Finally, Sehn saw it. The overseer changed his grip on his blade and swung horizontally, an attack that would tear open Sehn’s stomach. With all the strength Sehn possessed, he leapt high into the air, the blade passing harmlessly under his feet and at such a close proximity that Sehn could actually feel the air displaced under him from the rapid movement.

The overseer looked surprised, and Sehn knew why—very few could jump as high as Sehn just had. His feet were in the air where his chest had been.

Sehn raised his blade over his head, two hands gripping the hilt as he swung downward while he fell, putting every drop of strength into the attack. Surely, no matter how much of a beast this man was, he couldn’t withstand that much force.

The overseer raised his blade as if accepting the challenge. A thunderous, high-pitched clang rang out as Sehn’s Elven blade collided with the Drashian’s long sword. The man grunted. It was the most exertion Sehn had seen from him thus far, but he still somehow managed to parry and withstand the attack.

This isn’t good.

Sehn dashed backwards without looking behind him. The Drashian rushed forward and pursued. Sehn crashed, back first, into a wooden merchant’s booth, and then slid to his knees. The overseer gave him no time to regain his footing. Sehn barely had time to leap out of the way as the blade, powered by the overseer’s inhuman strength, cleaved the wooden booth into two large pieces, smashing right through the thing and sending chips and splinters in a disorganized spray around them.

Sehn cursed under his breath.

Despite the effort required to cause such ridiculous destruction, the overseer showed no signs of slowing down, and Sehn desperately needed a moment to regain himself. He was still slightly off balance, and he needed a moment to think. There had to be a way for him to stall for time. He removed his right hand from his weapon as an idea came to him. Holding the Elven blade with only his left hand, Sehn extended his other palm in the Drashian’s direction.

“Remmos Salas!”

“Remmos Salas!”

Sehn chanted the words again and again as one fireball after the other slammed into the larger man. Each time they hit their mark, they caused the overseer to grunt in pain, yet as far as Sehn could discern, they failed to cause any substantial damage. To Sehn’s disappointment, they even failed to set the man’s clothing on fire. But, at the very least, the attacks did stop the overseer in his tracks. While Sehn hammered the man with his fire projectiles, the Drashian had stopped moving entirely.

But Sehn couldn’t keep this up forever. He needed a plan. He needed to find some way of winning. If he could just get his blade to make contact, he would tear through the Human, regardless of his size. The problem was that even with his ungodly strength, the overseer still possessed a fair amount of speed.

Sehn ceased his magic. The overseer looked miserable. Smoke rose from his chest, and Sehn could see that he had in fact inflicted some small amount of damage as burn marks covered him from face to chest. The damage done wasn’t critical, but it did appear painful.

The man shrieked. His voice was a torrent of rage and misery.
“I’m going to rip your damn heart out, Elf!”

He charged. Sehn hadn’t seen him move this fast before, not even when he’d been pushing Sehn into a corner. The Drashian seemed to be running at a speed that was too fast for his body, which gave Sehn an idea.

He grinned and shouted,
“Ralos MAHR!”

The ground just in front of Sehn crumbled, and as the man ran over it he lost his balance and tripped, but rather than fall, he continued to move forward in a bent over run while he fought to remain upright.

Now!
Sehn thought.

He dashed at the tumbling man. With all his strength, Sehn slashed his blade diagonally, tearing the overseer from shoulder to hip in a deep, bloody cut.

The overseer howled in pain and clutched his body, then fell to one knee. His forearm was still bleeding from Cah’lia’s dagger, but that looked like nothing more than a scratch compared to what Sehn had just inflicted.

Sehn couldn’t help what he did next. He tried to stop himself—he really did—but his emotions took control of his body.

He began to dance like Nero, spinning and twirling, raising his sword in victory. “Oh yeah! Who cut ya? Sehn cut ya! I said who cut ya? Sehn did, that’s right. Oh, yeah! This motherfucker was all like, ‘Hey everybody, look at me, I’m an overseer and I’m better than Sehn.’ And then I was all like, ‘Eat fireball and sword, bitch.’ Suck a Cockalith!”

The overseer, who only moments ago spoke with a deep and powerful voice, squealed like a small girl.
“I’ll kill you! I’ll rip your head off!”

It was funny to Sehn how unmanly he sounded. Sehn danced even more, shaking his ass in the man’s face.

He almost lost his head as the overseer sprang off his knee and charged again at Sehn, his blood turning the white pavement dark red with each lumbering step.

Wow, that was stupid of me,
Sehn thought as the blade passed a mere inch from his face. The man was beginning to slow down, losing blood from the wound. Sehn could now easily dodge his attacks.

At the rate things were going, the overseer would end up killing himself. He no longer had any chance of winning the fight. Then again, he never really did, Sehn reminded himself.

This idiot needs to give up now or he’ll die
.
Not that the Great Sehn cares or anything! But if he dies here, who will spread the tale of the God that defeated him?

“Hey, peasant,” Sehn called to the overseer, who was now wobbling on his feet, barely able to remain standing as more blood poured from his grievous wound. “Are you a fool? Throw down your weapon at once! Can you not see you’re dying?”

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