1 Fantastic Martial Child

In a mid-sized village called Kettletop Village, a bloody scene was taking place. The road leading into the village center was seemingly paved in blood and corpses; the unfortunate victims of a seemingly random bandit raid. Grizzled looking bandits ransacked the village's shops and more wealthy homes, but were noticeably avoiding a residence in the center of the village.

Gathered in front of the residence were four individuals in heavy black cloaks, with hoods and masks obscuring their appearances. A heavy atmosphere was settled around the four, the silence between them smothering. After a moment, one of the four spoke, masculine voice breaking the silence.

"Can Galvas and Trebel handle this on their own?" the shortest of the four questioned, his eyes remaining on the residence. "If it's really him, the rumors would imply that all six of us working together still might lose, let alone just the two of them."

A moment of silence followed before an answer was heard from the most relaxed of the gathered four. "Carel, I would generally advise you not to put too much faith in rumors. In this case, however... Forget the six of us, even if our families' founding ancestors were present they could only hope to fight him to a draw."

A stunned silence descended on the three listeners as they heard those words. A silence so brief it could have been a mere figment of imagination, swiftly interrupted as the three frantically exclaimed.

"Our ancestors- !?"

"Even together?"

"Only to a draw!?"

The three men were astounded at this news, and fear could be seen encroaching in their eyes. A moment later, the one called Carel spoke again to clarify the situation.

"Creek, If that's the case, aren't we just throwing away Galvas and Trebel's lives?"

Creek, the only member of the group to remain calm, still looking relaxed, had a wicked gleam in his eye as he replied to Carel's query.

"That would be the case, yes- If that man was in his peak condition." Creek spoke, a nefarious grin present beneath his mask. A light appeared to ignite in the eyes of Carel and the other two.

"It's said a supreme being broke through the world barrier a week ago, and an unidentified fighter suffered grave wounds driving that being back. I take it that fighter was him?" Carel asked, an undercurrent of excitement present in his voice. Defeating someone of that level was out of the question, but killing someone of that level who had suffered grievous wounds was a different story entirely.

Creek nodded, confirming Carel's suspicions and soothing his doubts. The heavy atmosphere suddenly seemed to be charged with excitement as the cloaked men heard Creek's words. They were all old monsters in their own rights, and had committed enough slaughter to drown entire countries in the resulting bloodshed. However, none of them had ever had the pleasure of killing such a powerful individual. Just the thought flooded them with a craving for glory.

Right then, in the midst of their daydreams of glory, the situation suddenly took a turn for the worse. A loud explosion rang out from the residence before the four, tearing a gaping hole in the building. Two large impacts immediately followed as two more men in black robes slammed craters into the ground at the four's feet.

"Galvas, Trebel!" Carel cried out in horror as he recognized the sorry figures lying in the craters in front of him. Galvas dragged himself to his feet as quickly as he could, conspicuously lacking his right arm. Trebel did not stir, and a closer inspection revealed that he was no longer breathing.

As the assassins stepped back in horror, the cause of Trebel's death was revealed as a figure seemed to leap out of the hole in the residence into the air. At the peak of their arc, they came to a stop entirely, seeming to stand on the air itself.

"You dare intrude on my territory?" a voice resounded outwards, chilling Creek and his co-conspirators to the bone. The group took one step back, then most of them took a second with a clear intention to flee. Unfortunately, Creek had halted after his first step as he set his fear aside long enough to look clearly at the hovering figure.

The figure was a man, with skin unnaturally pale as if suffering from a severe illness. A close look would reveal the cold sweat on his forehead and the trembling of his extremities. Realizing their target was on his last legs, Creek raised his hand to get the others to halt.

"Look more closely. The news of his injuries was definitely true, he's barely holding himself together. His attack on Galvas and Trebel probably used up every bit of strength he'd managed to regain since the fight. If we press forward, he won't be able to hold out for long!"

Having said what he intended to, Creek launched a powerful attack at the airborne man. A flash of light hurtled through the air, only to be deflected when it made contact with its target. For a moment, Creek thought he had miscalculated, only to excitedly yell once more.

"Look, he was able to defend against my attack, but it clearly pushed him! He fell half a foot lower after deflecting it, he's barely even managing to fly!"

With the situation apparent, Creek's comrades gathered their courage and joined him in engaging this mighty but exhausted foe...

While the assassin's fought the injured warrior, a woman was in the residence urgently speaking what sounded like final words to an infant in a basket. She stood with the child in front of a whirling portal, looking into the baby's eyes with her own tear-filled visage.

"I'm so sorry, I was supposed to be sent away with you. We thought we had more time, it wasn't suppose to end like this. I don't know where this portal will send you, but this is the only way to give you a chance at life. I'm so sorry, you should have had a happy life, but I'm afraid because of us, you're bound to suffer hardship after hardship..."

Forcing back her tears, the woman slid the basket containing her child through the portal. With one last look filled with an unresigned longing for an unattainable future, the portal fizzled out like a firecracker at the end of it's show. Wiping her tears, she turned around and hardened her resolve as she stepped forth to die fighting alongside her partner.

An impossibly great distance away, on a calm plain there was a sudden breeze. It was initially a simple, gentle breeze indistinguishable from any other. Very quickly, the strength of the breeze picked up and rapidly became a small windstorm. A hole ripped open in space itself, from which a crying baby exited and was deposited onto the ground of the plain.

Initially, due to the sudden storm and oppressive pressure generated by the teleportation, the child's crying drew no unwanted attention. As enough time passed for the caution to fade from the nearby animals' minds, the cries rapidly became a signal for the hungry creatures. There was a free meal for the taking.

After a moment of silence in the surroundings, an ominous air seemed to descend around the child. As if aware of the danger, the baby's cries were finally stifled. Grass could be seen lightly shuffling around the child, marking the stalking approach of nearby beasts. The ruffling grass was initially approaching slowly, but as the animals saw nothing unexpected happening they picked up their pace. None wanted to be the last one there, getting the smallest share of meat, if any at all.

On any other day, or at any other location, there might have been no story. The beasts would have had an easy meal, a legend and his wife would have died in vain, and the world would have gone on as if nothing happened. Fortunately for this child, it was not any other day, or any other location. As the first beast reached lunging distance, and threw itself out of the cover of the grass to strike at the child, a sigh was suddenly heard.

The fox that had struck first was the first to be struck down upon the sudden appearance of a lightly dressed man bearing the weapons of a hunter. He was equipped with a bow and a quiver of well-made, but clearly cheap arrows, and a knife that was the only expensive looking object in the man's possession. It was this knife that reaped the life of the fox, carving through the back of its neck like a hot spoon through microwaved chocolate.

As the fox collapsed without even seeing who stole away its life, the other animals turned and fled on the spot. It was as if they had seen the specter of death itself, and they may as well have. The child's savior was well-known amongst the local animal population, having spent years of his youth sharpening his skills in the plains. The man, having dealt with the situation turned to the child with a near-imperceptible frown on his face.

"With this, that damned Dire Wolf probably knows I'm coming now. If it isn't defectively stupid, it'll probably have fled long before I arrive. Damn kid, where'd you even come from?" the man thought to himself, before silently considering his options for a brief moment. With a shrug, he muttered to himself, "Well, I'm so close to the location now anyways... May as well go and check to be sure I don't miss a potential opportunity. Not like the beast is a threat to me anyways, I should be able to handle it even if I bring this kid along."

Having made his decision, the man scowled at the child before lifting him out of the basket. Reaching into a satchel, he pulled out a long set of heavy cloth he meant to use as bandages. Using the material and his knife, he fashioned a simple but effective 'bag' to carry the baby on his back with. This made his bow inaccessible, but the man already assumed he would end up having no need for it on this venture.

One brief and uneventful trip later, the man and his reluctantly taken charge arrived silently at a clearing filled with clear marks of being a living space. There were gnawed bones left on the ground, a ground which had been padded down to be thicker than the dirt in the surroundings by the constant treading of many paws.

"This is definitely the place. Looks like I was right, that cunning beast fled. I hope you were worth saving, kid." muttered the hunter to himself. Despite his words, the man still acted with a great deal of caution as he carefully took in the scene. After a brief moment of observation, he shook his head and turned to walk away.

At that moment, a low growl was heard from the grass at the edge of the clearing. Like lightning, a blur of light-grey bolted out of hiding and lunged at the man who had seemingly detected nothing out of the ordinary. Sadly for the would-be ambusher, the corner of the man's lip lifted upward in a hint of a mocking smile.

The hunter had almost immediately realized the Dire Wolf was still present at the scene. It's ambush may have worked on a less attentive victim, but it was useless in the face of the man's decades of experience. Easily sidestepping the beast's lunge, a flash of silver was seen between the man's right arm and the wolf's throat. An instant later, the Dire Wolf hit the ground and collapsed on the spot as its grey-white throat was soaked in crimson.

"Ridiculous. A mere demi-beast thought to ambush me?" the man mocked, as he watched the wolf bleeding out on the ground. "Well, nice that it saved me the effort of tracking it down later, I suppose. Looks like you lucked out, kid. Guess you didn't end up owing me for causing this beasty here to escape my hunt. Well, suppose we oughta head back to the village and see if any travelers are missing a small child."

With that thought in mind, and his hunt completed, the man gave the dying wolf one last mocking shake of his head and departed the clearing.