Chapter 522: Cling to Life and Lose it
Eric soon caved and threw the sword at her, and she caught the handle of the katana. The blade gleamed in the light, its edge sharp and deadly, and Heka held it with the familiarity of someone who had wielded a hundred such weapons.
She looked at the artistic appearance and whispered praises to it for a minute, before casually turning to walk over to Octavius.
The walk was slow and excruciating, and when she reached, slightly taller than him, Octavius’ eyes began to shake, not able to focus on one point anymore.
She raised the katana up, took a stance, and smiled confidently: “This technique, if I get it right, will let this blade pass through your skull down to your testicles, but there will not be a single stain of blood on it. Except you are tougher than you seem. Anyway, stay still for me while I demonstrat—”
“P…. P… P…”
“Hm?” Heka looked at Octavius, as he slowly started kneeling on the ground, his pants getting soaked with a wide dark patch around his crotch.
The stain spread quickly, damp and obvious, as the smell of urine began to waft through the air.
The crowd shifted uncomfortably, some turning away in disgust, others leaning in with morbid curiosity.
“How old are you, that you would soil yourself so? Have you no shame?” Heka asked, her voice sharp and incredulous, as she could not believe that a grown man would lose control of his bodily functions in such a public setting.
She tilted her head, studying him like a curious scientist examining a particularly puzzling specimen.
“I… P… I b… be… g,” Octavius tried, but couldn’t get the words out properly, but only stammered and shivered, while the entire area went pin-drop silent.
The only sound was the choked sobs of the man who had been so confident just minutes before. His body was wracked with tremors, his teeth chattering, and his eyes were filled with a terror so profound that it seemed to have robbed him of all rational thought.
“What are you saying, I cannot understand you?” Heka brought the sword down, slowly getting pissed over Octavius’ strange behavior. “If you want me to hear you, SPEAK UP!”
Her voice was a whip crack, sharp and commanding, and it seemed to snap Octavius out of his stupor. He jerked, his body convulsing, and then he slowly bowed till his forehead touched the ground, tears dripping from his eyes as he said:
“I am sorry… for disrespecting you, ma’am! Please… I don’t want to die.”
I kid you not, Heka was absolutely not trying to humiliate Octavius, but that was not the reality to him and everyone who witnessed it.
To them, she was a beast, a merciless predator who had toyed with her prey before delivering the final emotional blow.
They did not understand that she had been seriously confused and frustrated by his incompetence.
They only saw the blood, the broken weapons, the casual way she had dismissed his every attack.
“Hm… Alright.” Heka shrugged and turned away from him, “Benjamin always tell us we live once. But hear me, if you cling so much to life, you certainly will lose it.”
And then she gave back the katana to Eric, as we all went back into the guild, Octavius still crying and kneeling in the sun while his party members try to console him.
The crowd parted to let us pass, their eyes following us with a amazement and fear. They had just witnessed something they would never forget, a display of power and mercy that defied all their expectations.
***
The hype of the former matter quickly died out… Or rather, it wasn’t physically and loudly spoken off again.
Though some tales had begun to grow in the telling, with some claiming that Heka had used advanced magic to enhance her skin, while others insisted that she was actually a dragon in human form.
The truth was far simpler and far more terrifying: she was just that tough. And someone worthy wasn’t holding the sword.
Personally, I think Eric would have really hurt her more.
Speaking of Eric, he and his party were seating with us on one big table, and I had already healed Heka up so we were enjoying that apple flavored ale again.
The wounds on her body had closed, the scars that would have formed fading away as my magic worked its way through her flesh.
But she was not happy about it. Not at all. She had been looking forward to those scars, to the permanent reminders of her brush with death. And I had apparently robbed her of that.
“Heka, you can stop scowling now,” I said as I dropped my cup, noticing she was still pissed I healed her wounds without her permission, “You had a once in a while chance to get hurt. Be contented.”
“No, that’s not it, Benjamin!” She bellowed, “I am wondering how that human was unable to kill me when I gave him such leeway! He slashed my neck 7 times, and I was sure my head would be held only by a string of flesh!”
“There is no way I would have allowed that!” I slammed my hands on the table, pissed. The sound echoed through the guild, drawing a few glances from nearby tables. “You think I can just stand somewhere and watch you get hurt?!”
“Exactly!” She yelled back, “If… If I am hurt enough, you will be forced to care about me more than the usual. It’s… It’s a certain way to get a lot of your attention while also experiencing the touches of death.”
SIGH.
This girl is a bundle of headache…
I don’t know how to heal death yet, so I would like her to be less hardcore with this fetish.
“Heka, I told you I love you more than anything else,” I cupped her cheeks with both my hands, forcing her to look me in the eyes. Her skin was warm beneath my palms, her cheeks flushed with the heat of her frustration. “I have even gone to another timeline for you once, because I love you… Huh? Another timeline?”