Chapter 42: A Giant’s Fists
"O magne magne armorum parens, arma mea divinitate tua imbue..."
The whimpering man’s cries faltered, his words strangled off as something in the air shifted. It was as though the world itself had taken a breath and held it.
Avin’s veins flared, crawling down his arm in burning lines of light. The dagger in his grip trembled violently, humming with unnatural resonance. Then, with a sharp fwwsshh, it reshaped.
A golden gleam burst from its edges, the steel lengthening, curving, spiking along the back like the jagged teeth of a predator.
Avin raised his arm, the transformed weapon catching light. He stared at it, crimson eyes wide with fascination.
"Interesting," he muttered, his voice low, breathless. "This one looks different."
The bandit on the ground let out a stuttered cry, scrambling backward, palms slipping in dirt and blood. His lips trembled.
"H-he’s... God-folk..."
His voice cracked with terror. His gaze jerked toward his towering comrade.
"Boss, he’s—he’s God-folk! Please! Please, help—!"
But the giant only stood there, arms folded across his chest. His eyes, calm and empty, never left Avin. Not a word. Not a twitch. Just watching.
The bandit turned back, face streaked with panic and dirt. He scrambled further on his elbows, dragging his useless arm, until he tripped over his own heel.
"Please! Spare me! I—I have children—please!"
His voice shook violently.
Avin stopped.
He froze mid-step, dagger loose in his hand. The sight etched into him—the man bleeding, crawling, begging for mercy. His chest rose and fell in ragged sobs.
But Avin’s crimson eyes caught it.
The twitch of lips. A flicker. A grin, quickly hidden, slithering across his face.
A lie.
Avin exhaled slowly, raising the glowing dagger. His grip tightened until veins threatened to burst.
"If you did..."
The bandit’s eyes widened in horror.
"They would be better off without you."
With a sharp grunt, Avin jerked his arm back and let the blade fly.
THWSSHH—
The dagger tore through the air like a beam of gold, embedding itself with a clean crack straight through the bandit’s skull and into the earth behind him.
The man’s jaw hung slack, his pupils spinning outward, frozen in shock. No blood sprayed—just a clean, surgical hole through his head. His body sagged, collapsing onto the dirt.
Avin’s chest heaved. His hands trembled.
"I... killed him."
The words echoed hollow in his skull. He had killed a man. A human being born of other human beings. A father, perhaps. A brother. A son.
On Earth, Clive had never lifted a hand against another person. He’d avoided conflict, avoided risk, avoided responsibility.
And yet here, in this alien world, he had killed three.
And not once—not once—did regret pierce him.
Is it justification that shields me? His mind churned, black with doubt. Or am I just rotten? A selfish bastard so consumed with survival that life itself means nothing to me?
His eyes lingered on the corpse, the wound finally bleeding, a dark trickle spilling into the dirt.
Then another thought struck, cutting cold through him.
Wait. These two were weak. Pathetically weak. They couldn’t have caused the crash. Which means...
His head snapped toward the giant.
But the spot was empty.
"The hell—?"
Avin spun to his left. Nothing. He spun to his right—
BAM!
A fist the size of his chest slammed into his stomach before he could even react.
The impact folded him in half. His body twisted violently as he was launched backward, air bursting from his lungs.
CRRNNKK—!
His spine cracked against the trunk of a massive tree, bark splintering on impact. The force bent him forward unnaturally, snapping his stomach back into place with a grotesque jolt.
Avin collapsed to the ground, convulsing, pain screaming through every nerve.
HUUUUURRRKKK—
His throat erupted. Vomit burst out in a torrent, half-digested sludge spilling across the dirt.
He gasped, hacking, strings of saliva hanging from his lips as he drooled helplessly.
His palms hit the ground, trying to push himself up, but his head hung low, drool and bile dripping. His whole torso trembled from the shock, muscles failing him.
BOOM.
The ground shook.
BOOM.
Again.
Avin lifted his eyes weakly, vision blurred, spinning.
And there he was.
The giant thundered forward, each step like a hammer to the earth. His long hair whipped with the wind, his wide grin stretching like an animal that had cornered prey.
"No—" Avin croaked, but his body wouldn’t move. His limbs screamed rebellion. His ribs felt cracked, stabbing him from the inside with every shallow breath.
The giant sprinted the last few feet, his shadow engulfing Avin.
CRRRSHHH—
The kick connected, slamming into Avin’s chest.
His body flew again, smashing against the same tree, the bark cracking deeper. Blood erupted from his mouth, painting the ground in wet crimson.
He gasped for air, but each breath was broken, fractured. Pain bloomed everywhere at once—his chest, his ribs, his skull. It was impossible to even know which hurt the most.
Then a hand.
Huge, calloused fingers clamped around his throat, lifting him.
Avin choked violently, hands clawing at the grip as his back slammed against the tree trunk again. His legs kicked uselessly. His nails scraped against skin like stone.
The man’s face leaned close. His breath was hot, rancid. His eyes wild with glee.
"Talk to me, noble," he rasped, his voice low and grating.
"Are you going to pay for hurting my comrades?"
Avin’s tears welled unbidden. His eyes darted, searching desperately for something, anything. His lungs screamed. His vision spotted black.
The giant’s grin widened, pressing his forehead close until Avin could see each scar carved into his face.
"Losing them hurt me so much," he sighed mockingly, almost blissful.
"And now... I need compensation."
Avin’s mind fractured. Thoughts scattered, colliding, fading. His consciousness blinked in and out, blurry, sluggish.
But his crimson eyes flicked—just once—to the golden dagger lying in the dirt.
If only...
His hand twitched.
And then—
FWSSHH—
The dagger soared into his palm.
Avin’s eyes widened. His grip closed around it. He didn’t know how. He didn’t know why. But his will had summoned it.
All he wanted—all he needed—was to stab.
He roared, thrusting the weapon upward, slashing at the giant’s arm, shoulder, hand.
CLNNK! CLNNK! CLNNK!
Each strike bounced uselessly off skin like iron. Sparks flew, but no wound formed.
The giant’s grin only grew.
"You think you can harm me with that puny thing?"
Avin screamed, pulling the dagger back one last time. His crimson eyes blazed.
And he drove it straight into the giant’s eye.
SKRRCHHH—!
The blade sank in.
The giant howled, staggering back, clutching at his face. Blood streamed down, crimson on crimson, pouring from the ruined socket.
He ripped the dagger free with a wet tear, glaring with his remaining eye. His roar shook the trees.
Avin dropped to the ground, gasping, adrenaline flooding his veins. He tried to crawl, his body dragging through dirt, arms trembling.
But the thunder returned.
The giant’s heavy steps pounded closer.
"HOW DARE YOU?!" he bellowed, voice cracking with rage.
Avin’s arms gave out. He collapsed, chest heaving. His vision blurred to red and black.
CRRRSHHH—
The giant’s massive foot slammed down, crushing Avin into the earth. Pain exploded. His ribs cracked like twigs.
"Oh, you’re dead now," the man growled, voice trembling with fury.
Avin’s hope shattered. His crimson glow dimmed. His eyes fluttered, close to collapse.
And then—
A voice.
Calm. Familiar. Cutting through the madness like a blade.
"Oh really? ... Tell me more."
Avin’s eyes snapped open.