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[Smite Happens] 9 - So Much Ass
🕑 Added 2025-09-30 05:29:11 +0000 UTCI scrambled up the slope while yelling my lungs out. Speaking of lungs, I wasn’t winded by the physical exertion and shouting at the same time. The pain in my head continued to subside as my vision became sharper. The green glow covering my dirty arms meant I was healing faster than normal—and my normal was already faster than the average person. Was this because I was in a fight again?
Well, the sternial wielder with that darkness power wanted to fight me. Kill me, even. I was technically running away.
A small patch of the hill exploded to my right, showering me with dirt. The assassin had me in his sights! I pushed myself to go up faster, trying to keep myself covered by rocks or trees. But I soon reached an area where it was just grass.
Don’t hesitate! Don’t slow down! My fingers stabbed into the soil as I pulled myself up the steep incline. I grabbed onto anything, be it grass or roots.
The assassin kept on sending out shadow waves. But they didn’t hit me. Yet. Any second now.
However, I was confident with my Constitution bolstered by my Ring of Fortitude. I had also noticed that the shadow waves weren’t doing much damage other than shoveling dirt around me. I could probably take on—
“Argh!” I got hit! It was like a whip cracking across my back, forcing my body to hug the ground. A burning sensation across my back mingled with the cool air felt by my exposed skin. And there was a gnawing itchiness burrowing into my flesh. Was this the gross black tar I had seen on Lorwin earlier?
Pesky, pesky! Shivers of disgust went up my spine. But this wasn’t the time to wipe away the yucky slime on my back. I may be powerless now, but I’d make this assassin pay for this someday!
“Silver Order, help me!” I yelled. I was glowing again, with Wonderwerk’s Boon fixing my injuries. It was doing such a good job, probably because of the power gap between me and the assassin. This was good and all, but everything would be better if the Silver Order had actually heard me.
Glancing down, I saw the assassin sheath his sword to climb after me. He moved superfast!
But all hope wasn’t lost. Actually, it was right up the slope—a glint of metal mixed with fluttering leaves. Someone from the Silver Order was climbing down! This meant that…
…that I could try capturing this assassin!
Survival for this moment was assured. Kind of. I was moving on to the next goal of taking revenge on the assassins. Not just this guy. All of them! For that, I needed to find out who orchestrated the ambush. The sternial wielder chasing me could surely provide some answers. It’d be great if I could catch him.
“For my brother! I’ll have my revenge, you damned bitch!” His voice sounded much nearer.
This guy’s brother must be the asshat who I gave a free coupon for skull remodeling. Understandable that he’d be angry with me, but calling me a bitch was uncalled for. On occasion, I could be one, but not at the moment.
I could just ask him, I thought, gauging that the Silver Order people were not too far away. The slope’s angle became gentler. This was a good place to fight.
Continuing to climb would be useless since the sternial user was almost catching up to me. And so, I let him. I pretended to struggle so I could slow down without arousing suspicion. He grabbed my leg and dragged me down.
“This ends now!” The assassin got on top of me, furious eyes peering through the horizontal slit of his helmet. He grabbed my neck and pinned me to the ground with his left hand. With his free right hand, he took out a straight knife, a bit bigger than what Lorwin had, and aimed for my neck.
I raised my arm to block. The knife stabbed the side of my forearm, bit into my flesh, and slid across it, hitting the ground a few inches to the left of my head.
I stared at the wound on my arm. It was shallow, not even half an inch deep. Green sparkles traced the wound to heal it. This was all the damage that the assassin could inflict? Thank you, Ring of Fortitude!
The assassin paused too, surprised at how tough I was.
“Heh,” I scoffed. “How can you kill me if you—ugh!”
He punched my head, the metal knuckles of his gauntlet smashing against my cheek. My teeth felt the force. I barely processed what happened when another punch came, this time, with his other fist. The bastard furiously wailed on me as I crossed my arms over my face. Each blow thudded against my flesh, the force shaking my forearm bones. But it didn’t do much damage other than making my flesh sore.
The punches relented for a moment.
Through the gap between my arms, I saw the assassin holding his knife with both hands. Shadows swirled around the blade before seeping into it and turning it black. He roared some gibberish battle cry as he drove the knife down to my chest.
I tried twisting away, but couldn’t get free from underneath him. The knife’s tip hit an inch below my right collarbone. It didn’t bury deep into my flesh. Maybe just a couple of inches, and there was no immediate pain.
For a moment, I had thought of laughing at the assassin’s face for his pathetic stab.
Then it exploded.
The pain of a thousand toothaches bloomed from the point of the knife! It felt like a piranha was going wild inside me, gnawing my flesh in rage! A burning sensation spread through my chest as it crawled under my skin.
“Shiiiiittt…” I hissed through gritted teeth. My whole body tensed into a plank, paralyzed by the level of agony I had never experienced before.
“Why won’t you die?” The assassin bent low, adding his weight to push the knife’s handle down.
Gathering all my will, I asserted control over my spasming muscles to raise my arm and poke his eyes.
The assassin fell back, clutching his face. My own right eye became watery from the pain. He yelled, “You bitch! You’ll regret—” He paused and looked up the slope. Muttering curses, he decided to flee. Did he see the Silver Order?
My body wanted to lie down until the pain faded away. I was plagued by a dozen heartburns, and the smell of rotten eggs clogged my nose. Help was here. My body was healing. But my brain wanted to catch the assassin, especially after he stabbed me. Heck, I might just kill him. That was a deserving punishment for trying to assassinate the brand-new saint of Vidwarane.
“Yarghhh!” I yanked out the knife from my chest. Red and black spurted. I should’ve kept the knife in, but A doctor would probably say that this didn’t look good. Thankfully, there was no doctor around.
The assassin was quickly getting away! I had to do something drastic to catch up.
Hugging my legs and tucking my chin, I threw myself downhill after him. Rolling and rolling and rolling. I had a few seconds to wonder if I was becoming reckless due to my Boon before I collided with the asshat. Both of us continued tumbling until a boulder jutting out of the ground stopped us.
“I don’t have time for you!” The assassin untangled himself from my grabby arms and pushed me off.
Guys don’t reject me, I angrily thought, stabbing the back of his leg as he stood up. He yelped as I hugged his leg with one arm, my other hand firmly gripping the knife’s handle. Stinging pain made my left calf cramp up—this was my Boon’s reflected damage.
I used my superpower of zoning out everything to accomplish my goal. Tenacious tenacity! The pain wriggling in my chest? Yeah, it’s there. So what? My throbbing scalp and aching leg? I’d think about that later. All I had to do now was pretend to be a ball of cement encasing the assassin’s leg.
I didn’t care about his punches and kicks. I was a cement ball!
Were those shouts of other people? The Silver Order!
I win! I fucking—! Eh?
The assassin had stopped moving. Drops of something fell on my head and arms. Red. Blood?
He dropped to his side like a felled tree.
“Is that… Is that an arrow?” I crawled to the assassin’s head for a closer look. Sticking out of his helmet’s eyehole was a long piece of wood ending in feathers. It really was an arrow. I immediately covered my own head and pressed myself to the ground, hiding behind the assassin’s corpse.
Metal feet stomped around me. The Silver Order knights in silver armor had arrived—three of them.
“That way! By the bowed elfwood!” shouted one of them. He must be talking about the archer.
“I see the bastard!” replied his buddy.
The two knights continued downhill. It took me a couple of seconds to realize that another assassin asshat assassinated the assassin I had caught. That was so much ass! All the pain I suffered, and continue to suffer, just to get this dead body that I didn’t even have the satisfaction of killing.
The third knight stayed and helped me sit against the boulder.
“You must be the Chosen Bestowed,” said a female voice. She raised her visor, and I stared into her deep emerald eyes. “My name is Clarisse. Sentinel Aspirant Clarisese.”
“Senti—what?”
“The gods have blessed you to have survived the ambush. A true miracle! Rest assured, you are safe.”
“There are o-others…” I belabouredly asked. The green glow that was healing me had dimmed because I was no longer fighting. “My parents… the priest…” I didn’t really care much about them, but part of me wanted them to survive. They did a commendable job keeping me alive.
“Other Sentinels will save them,” Clarisse said in a soothing voice. She retrieved a bottle of red liquid from a pouch on her hip. After she unscrewed its cap, it gave off a strawberry-like smell, mixing with the metallic stench of blood and the rotting black slime. “We must treat your injuries. Drink this health potion.”
The liquid was warm and comforting as it ran down my throat. My injuries gradually hurt less as seconds passed. I tried to question the knight about what was going on, but she shushed me. According to her, I shouldn’t worry others but instead prioritize healing so that we can safely climb to the road.
“The Silver-Gloved Lady protects us,” Clarisse kept repeating in a drawl. “Free your mind of worries.”
These were just standard lines for her. I could tell by her tone. And I knew that she knew that I knew that everyone else in our group was very likely dead.
Clarisse went over my injuries, muttering that she didn’t have any healing Cores in her sternial, whatever that meant. The sternial must be the glowing thing on Melphor’s chest. I must get a sternial someday to gain powers.
“What caused this head injury?” Clarisse asked, parting my clumped hair held together by dried blood.
“I must’ve hit my head when the wagon fell off the road,” was my answer. I wasn’t going to admit that it was caused by a restriction of my Boon. Never tell anyone about such a huge weakness. “I think… I think it’s already healing.”
“Thanks to your Boon, no doubt.” She poked my scalp, making me wince in pain. “I don’t feel any broken bones. What about this chest wound? It doesn’t look normal.”
“Stabbed by this knife with shadows. Don’t know what happened.”
“Traces of Stygian affliction,” Clarisse whispered, carefully using a small knife to widen the hole in my tunic and examine my wound. “A feldeer Core from the looks of it. Unless they used something more exotic? The decay seems to be receding… How fascinating. Quite a Boon you’re blessed with.”
“It must be the work of your health potion.” Downplaying my Boon’s power. Wouldn’t want too much interest until I had a clue of my possible friends and foes.
“The minor health potion you had drunk reduces pain and hastens healing. But it doesn’t counteract Stygian energy. Your body is fighting it. Apparently, the rumors that your Boon raises Constitution’s rank prove true.”
“Rumors?” Didn’t Melphor say that even the Silver Order people who were supposed to escort them didn’t know about her Boon? “What rumors?”
(Author's Notes: Too bad that Emery didn't capture a prisoner alive. The important thing is that she had met up with the Silver Order. We'll see in the next chapter the aftermath of this situation. So, that's ten chapters in total for the introductory part of the story. I’d appreciate your feedback and suggestions on what we can add/edit. For example, I should’ve described Emery Pyrebraid’s attire in a prior chapter because she had to climb and was injured.)
Comments
Temple (REND)
Writing-wise, it's much easier if the parents are out of the picture. So many main characters in various genres have missing parents for one reason or another. So that's sort of my reason for that. Plus, in this world, no one could really question Emery now, as you pointed it out. Another thing is that I want to avoid the dark aspect of realizing their daughter is gone. Most transmigration stories skirt around that issue by having the MC's family be awful, for example. But in our case that the parents are good people, it's a really huge blow if they find out that their real daughter is dead. I don't want that type of tragic scene here.
Temple (REND)
Senator Emery Armstrong.
Reppyxz
I like this so far. I don’t really have much to say so far, we are still very early on in the plot. I am interested in how the politics in this story will pan out. I’m also excited at the idea of Emery making a cult. And obviously, I’m curious about how the magic works in this world. I think Emery’s restriction is weird but interesting at the same time. Probably the only negative I could think of (although it is a minor one) is otherworld Emery’s parents dying, I would’ve been interested in their realization that their daughter has been swapped out. But as it stands right now, nobody in the story is capable of discerning a swap has even happen. Maybe other world Emery has a sibling/childhood friend/unkle or aunt, that is still at the village. But again, not really big deal. I just kind of like that “trope?” Where the characters slowly or not so slowly realize that one of there loved ones has been swapped out.
dimi1010
“Why won’t you die?” - Hmm, who knows... the answer could be nanomachines...
