ren something you see around anywhere. The other animals seemed normal. Except for a canary bird that had went straight for his balls when he was running from his family. That had almost ended with him getting invited to a world of damned pain. He couldn catch it either. Were these animals wizards? He has to introspect with himself for a moment.

Am I going insane?

Walking to the gate he explained to the guard, a middle aged drunk man with a short mustache and very long eyebrows. ”Hey, Im actually so poor Id be able to make money shaggin sheep and stealing their wool, can you please help me out, this little beggar might make it worth your while. I can chop wood, kill ducks, not swans though, and hunt deer.? ” He lied about most of it. The drunk man simply punched him in the face, everything went black.

When he awoke he found himself hunched over a rock, his head aching like it had been smashed in. He felt strange. Opening his eyes he seemed to have aged, or rather, he looked older. He had more hair on his arms, his facial hair grew a little, and his nails were ready to be clipped, or bitten off. A little strange, but the likely explanation was that a wizard had come by to curse him. He stood up and astoundingly, his shitty basked was still at his side, none of the berries were stolen it seemed. He picked one and bit into it. Sweet minty juice dripped down his throat, he hadn had something to drink in so long, he almost cried. But he couldn cry, his eyes and tear ducts were dry at this point. He kept eating berries until they were gone, then he got up and walked to a nearby pond to see if he had grown a horn or something.

He luckily hadn grown a horn, and luckily he didn have wrinkles. His hair and nails just grew out of control for reasons he couldn imagine, he had already excluded that he was a victim from some demon or monster, the only likely explanations are that he was cursed. There was one positive part of all this, he felt a little stronger. He went to a tree and punched it. He instantly regretted it, although the tree as thick as a fat womans waist shook heavily and a crack sounded. His skin was bleeding, then he felt normal again. He took off his pants and underwear and checked for any peculiarities in his genitals.

Nothing there either.

He then punched himself there, and almost slapped himself in the face for his own stupidity, but didn lest he blow his own head off by accident. He pulled his pants on again and looked around himself. He was in the forest again, though it seemed that he wasn very far from the village. He turned and went back. He was furious this time. Walking to the front of the village and towards the door guard. ”Ten coppers please. ” The drunken guard asked, his one eye closed his other hand open. Angus simply walked forward and punched the man in the face. The man got up, his eyes clear and vigilant, a pristine light shining in them. He caught the punch, but that didn last. The punch broke through his guard, and hit him in the face. He was sent flying. Although Angus was a scholar, he wasn that weak, he had helped around the house with chores, and each time Angus was attacked, it was a sneak attack, this time however he kept vigilant. If they try to sneak attack him again, he would break a few bones, at least.

He then walked into the village like nothing happened. The guard lay on the ground, some of his teeth knocked out, his eyes blank. Whether he was dead or alive was unknown. Angus started looking about until he noticed a black smith in the distance, he walked to the woman and spoke, ”Mam, Im new around these parts, is this entire village a military camp or something? ” He straightforwardly asked.

”Lets go inside. ” She simply said before tempering the red hot rod in her pliers in a near vat of oil. They walked into the house of the lady blacksmith. ”We
e living in hard times, bandits everywhere, thieves, you name it. There recently has been a decree allowing anyone who spots a beggar or thief to attack them and remove them from their premises. What brought you here? ” Angus shook his head. He placed a hand on his thigh and moaned in pain. The woman looked at him strangely. ”A sore spot, I accidentally gave myself a bruise ” He lifted his pants leg and the woman seemed even more bewildered. ”I was freaked out as well. Though Ive managed to hopefully control my own strength ” they both laughed it off and then talked about random comings and goings, and like this he learned the layout and structure of the village. He really had been unlucky, this was a military camp, and the ”Chief ” was a commander of sorts. They were apparently in guise of a village to kill nearby bandits. It was quite the clever plan.

”What about the swan? ” He asked her. ”The swan? ” She repeated. He looked at her oddly, expecting some revolutionary answer. ”I had a swan kick a coin I threw at it back at me, it really bloody hurt, just look at my forehead. ” He pointed to the faint imprint on his forehead. Still furious about it. ”Oh thaaat swan. ” She muttered, got up and poured a glass of vinegar for the both of them. Angus looked perplexed. ”Im not drinking vinegar. ” The smith was startled and blushed profusely, she walked to the sink, threw the contents of both glasses out before washing them and supplying them with goats milk. ”Here you are. ” She said placing the glass on the table. It was a rather ordinary table, at least at first glance, but the actual carpentry seemed to be done by an apprentice, or an idiot, likely the latter. The entire support was uneven and it had a pentagon shape. It was honestly hilarious. He had to stifle laughter after he gave it a second look.

”The swan has a name, its a wizard that has willfully transformed himself into a swan in order to protect this encampment he is being paid very well, the name is Jerryme-meld Hei-Heimerfeld. ” The smith stuttered on the name but he got the general idea. Jerrymeld Heimerfeld. An odd name, it didn contain the usual career tone, so he could only guess that the man wanted to keep that a secret. Before he could ponder further she explained, ”He was a member of the royal family of Guddah, but in the end they banished him and gave him a trash name. He cursed his own family quite a few times, every month a new one, now they are all running around looking for their noses and genitals. ”

Angus laughed at that, the smith looked very serious and knocked on his forehead, ”If they knew you were laughing, theyd take that head of yours as an ornament on the blood legion tree. Its not long before the raise it. Apparently some evil creature has awakened, it has allegedly taken the shape of a man with a glaive polearm. It has stated that it wants us to not only submit, but to also offer the stomachs of our children. ” That made him stop laughing.

”Its best you leave the village, you don seem the rich type, lodgings are quite hard to come by, I have a feeling well meet in the future again. ” She gave him a slight smile and went to fish out a backpack packed with clothes, food and wine. ”Courtesy of Jaine Lainfeld, or whatever name that clairvoyant woman has picked today. ” He took the backpack wordlessly. This was an act of kindness. There had to be something behind it. He glared at her through narrowed eyes. He then took another look at that strange table and the house they were in, just to make sure he didn get baited by some strange troll wizard. ”Well off be with you. ” She shooed him out and he didn protest. He took this kindness to heart and threw it away. He now considered this woman a friend. He gave a nice laugh and kicked a stone. It broke a window, but he had already sprinted to the gate of the village. Seeing the doorman and remembering his awful treatment, he didn even bother and knocked the man out again. He only had a single tooth left, along with a deep purple and red bruise on his cheek, It looked quite beautiful, the layering of red and purple. Sucker punching strong people felt so satisfying, especially with how weak he was. If that man had been prepared hed be out cold. He had already learnt about his unavoidable punch, which was essentially just a very accurate punch, normally people would actually actively guide their punch to the closest surface, naturally after someone noticed his accuracy they would actually be able to withstand his meager punch easily. He was a scholar after all, just a slightly stronger scholar.

He rested a bit at a nearby tree and inspected his backpack, everything he would need for a month was packed in there. The only peculiarity was a book dubbed, ”The musings of witches, blood and gods. ” He didn know how blood could muse, so he cracked open the fairly thick tome, if it was gibberish he could just use it as firewood. He simply sighed, tossed it back into his backpack, then used the buttons on it to seal it. Who uses backpack buckles anyway? Its not like they
e extremely convenient.

He then noticed something strange. He was hungry. But looking at the vegetation around him just makes him feel sick, and the dry meat he had packed didn seem adequate at all. He stood and walked into the forest, taking a slightly pointy stick with him, he didn exactly think he could use it, but having it made him feel confidence for some reason. With each deep step into the moist forest soil he finally found what he had been looking for. Rabbits. He was quite convinced that he could make a nice delicious roast, though for some reason thinking of cooking the rabbits also made him sick. Even thinking back to the meat he ate when he still had a family made him feel the same. Was his body trying to make him become a fruitarian? Fruits at this stage were the only food he could think of, save berries, that didn make him want to gag and die.

He aimed the pointy stick and threw it at the rabbit. To note, this stick wasn very durable at all, though since the wood wasn old, nor dry, it did have some elasticity and also some yield, this allowed. This was what he had picked out, it also was nice and rigid though so it made for a nice spear.

The spear blitzed into the air, a whistle met and air currents tried to prevent it, move it, get it away from its target, but the spear was absolute. It hit the rabbit, pinned it to the tree with a quarter of the stick inserted into a tree. He was a bit astonished, then he felt it. The burning pain. It felt like someone had taken your arm, poured some boiling oil on it, then followed with water and oil again. A rhythmic pain that continued to pulse. Sometimes pain can be so intense that you can even scream, swear or even cry. This was that kind of pain. Even when you
e dying, you
e normally not entirely awake to feel the pain.

He looked down to see his arm covered in veins, his muscle bulged, the skin looked more rough than it did before. Then the pain stopped. At this point he wanted to end himself so he wouldn just turn into some crazy demon and kill everyone in a hundred kilometer radius. In this world, humans are considered rather fast, animals are faster, demons are even faster, but gods and devils are the fastest. If he turned into a demon animal, he would be considered to be the fastest below the realm of gods, or demigods rather. The problem is that there are different species, though he doesn particularly care what kind of mindless demon hes going to turn into, just that its going to either leave him brain-dead or in so much pain that he becomes brain-dead.

His arm soon returned to normal, though now the skin is rougher, and its slightly bulkier than it was before, not as bulky as when it fully transformed. A strange expression arose on his face when compared his arms. His obsessive compulsive behavior almost had him remove his own arm. It was driving him slightly insane, but he tried to ignore it. He moved to the rabbit he had speared and tried to pull the stick from the tree. He braced his feet, and pulled as hard as he could. He almost sent himself flying when the twig broke, now the rabbit was even more stuck, the part that made him feel bad was that the poor thing was still alive. He walked back, took a nicely sized rock and clubbed it on the head a few times, then a couple more for good measure. He really wouldn want the poor thing to feel itself get roasted. He gently took it off from the tree then looked at it, he felt some guilt welling up inside him before his vision started to become altered. Everything looked more grey, the usual red blood of the rabbit no longer bothered him, in fact, he interpreted it that it was ready to eat.

He didn remember roasting it.

Ripping a chunk from the rabbits flesh, he took a nicely sized bite. It tasted like barbecued rabbit, just much juicier. After he finished the rabbit his vision swam and he returned to see his hands covered in blood and fur. Then he tasted the irony taste of blood. He slapped himself against the skull, his rage welling up along with the guilt, he then gagged and dry heaved. Soon he felt the tears, the cold rushing onto the singular hairs on his arms, goosebumps. He cradled himself, trying to feel some sense of comfort, when he heard a song. It wasn a simple or complicated song, it was a story. He turned around to see a woman with a bow slung over her back. He frowned. That bow was about as tall as he was, and it looked rather heavy.

”Who are you? ” He asked, the grief in his voice apparent. It sounded more like a grainy whimper. ”You can call me the huntress. I have come to warn you. He is drawing near. ” She went up to him and gently caressed his shoulder. Luckily it wasn the one that had grown on its own. ”Child you seem cold? Where are your parents? ” He didn look like much of a child anymore, but with the lack of a beard, he still looked like one to the carefully trained eye. Even though hes 16, it seemed to him that he would never grow one. ”They are gone ” He simply said, the memories finally climbing back, crawling onto his mind like a night terror. He then noticed that where he had hunted was near a small little pond. And there he sat whimpering into a strange womans arms until the next morning.

When he noticed she was gone.

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