Clash with Axe-Hand Hendrick
html, body { margin:0; padding:0; } Porter: Johann29
The Wanderer's Village was swarming with adventurers right from the entrance.
You could spot groups of them traveling by carriage or on foot even a day before arriving. Start Village was crowded too, but compared to this place, it was a drop in the bucket.
"Whoa~! Just like they said, there are so many people! All the top adventurers from across the continent come here, huh? Looks like it's true!"
The Priest seemed thrilled by the bustling chaos. After staring at nothing but lazy rural grasslands for ten straight days, it was no wonder she missed the crowds.
She wasn't the only one happy, though. The mage, who'd suffered through brutal motion sickness on her first big trip, finally breathed easy once they hit the paved roads. Those bone-rattling country paths were history.
"If it's your first time at Wanderer's Village, you'll have to get out and walk from here. Gotta get your travel permit first."
The coachman reined in the horses as he spoke. Adventurers piled out of other carriages in twos and threes. Vints nodded and handed over the fare.
"Thanks for the hard work. Safe travels."
"May fortune smile on your quest, Hero. Hol hol."
Once Johann's group had all dismounted, the coachman turned the horses around and headed back to Start Village.
It had cost a pretty penny, but it beat walking by a mile. The mage might disagree.
On foot, they'd only be halfway there by now.
For Vints, itching to fix his arm ASAP, trudging the rest of the way wasn't an option.
"The gates to Wanderer's Village are huge. Feels like we're in a foreign country or something."
A ridiculously long line of adventurers snaked ahead. They were queuing up at the massive gatehouse—a sight you'd never see at Start Village.
"No way to skip ahead?"
Vints grumbled at the sight. He hated wasting time here. Cutting in line seemed like the only play, but with no other choice, his group tacked onto the tail end.
"Reminds me of lining up for meals at the monastery."
The Priest grinned ear-to-ear even in this mess. Johann crossed his arms, eyeing how fast the line was shrinking.
Wanderer's Village took entry control seriously. The already endless queue crawled at a snail's pace.
"Fuck! I haven't slept properly in two days rushing here, and now I gotta rot in this shit? Hey! You dumbass guards! I'm Hendrick Axe-Hand! Let me in!"
Vints wasn't the only one pissed. The guy yelling his name—Hendrick—jabbed a finger at the guards, unleashing his rage.
He had to be at least two meters tall. His voice matched his massive frame, gravelly like a giant's roar.
"Hendrick Axe-Hand? Who the hell's that? Sounds like some nobody—not even a Hero."
"I've heard of him. That Hunter of Heroes, right? The legend with thirty straight wins in the underground pits. Rumor says he took down two Heroes there."
"A stigma-less scrub beating Heroes? Bullshit."
"Must have some insane gear. That axe on his back looks like the one from the stories…."
Murmurs rippled through the crowd. Hendrick Axe-Hand was a notorious gladiator around these parts, with a hefty rep.
Two guards in standard silver helmets and armor stepped up to the commotion, exuding intimidation.
But Hendrick wasn't one to back down. He snarled at them like a lion spotting prey, his feral glare making the guards flinch instead.
"D-Don't cause a scene! Follow procedure or get banished!"
The archer-guard mustered his courage and barked. Hendrick just scoffed.
"A village that stations weaklings like you on guard duty? Figures. Know your place—you couldn't even hack it as a pit guard."
"You bastard!"
The guard leveled his spear, ready to flex some authority.
"You think a toy like that scares me?"
Hendrick snatched the spear shaft with his meaty paw.
"Gah! Let go!"
"Pathetic weakling, just like you look. Scram!"
He flung the spear like a boomerang. The armored guard tumbled ass-over-elbows. Impressive raw strength.
"Taking down a guard like that? Rumors check out."
"What a brute. Better steer clear."
Everyone averted their eyes from Hendrick. Sensing he'd owned the vibe, he strutted forward with arrogant steps.
"Outta my way, cowards! Big bro's going first."
Bold as hell, cutting the line. No one stopped him. Except one.
"Lanky fuck. Stop."
A nasty curse slipped from Vints' mouth. The Priest shot him a worried look.
"Huh? Who said that?"
"Me."
Vints stepped up. Hendrick sized him up instantly. Shorter by two heads, decent gear but callused hands screaming seasoned adventurer.
High chance he was a stigmatized Hero. Only that kind of guts would make someone step to him.
'Cocky little shit with a stigma, huh.'
Hendrick, who'd already bagged two Heroes, felt zero fear.
"What, did a candy bar eat your arm or some shit?"
He fired the first barb. A vein throbbed on Vints' forehead.
Always weak to taunts, he'd grown even more irritable since losing the arm. He drew his sword without hesitation.
"Pissing me off works in your favor. I like your arms."
"Kek! A cripple who can't even keep his own limbs says he'll take me? Guess you don't need the other one."
"Raise your weapon."
"Fine! I'll show you how big the world is, frog in a well!"
Hendrick yanked his axe from his back. Just drawing it whipped up a fierce gust.
The blade sliced air with a shrill whoosh. A grim design with a skull inlaid in the haft—not your average chopper.
"My Skull Maiden has tasted two stigmatized Heroes already. One-armed cripple—you one too?"
"Yeah. Hero of Flames."
"Flames, eh! Dinner again tonight!"
The impromptu duel was on. Perfect entertainment for adventurers bored of waiting.
"S-Senior! Shouldn't we stop 'em?"
The underling asked the tumbled archer-guard. He grimaced.
"Way above our paygrade. Nothing we can do but hope they tire themselves out. Radio HQ for backup."
"Got it!"
Unfortunately, they lacked the muscle to intervene.
Hendrick flicked his tongue like a viper. His beloved Skull Maiden grew by feasting on blood.
The stronger the foe, the more power it gained from their blood. Already fattened on two Heroes, it granted Hendrick monstrous strength.
"Here I come!"
Gripping the axe two-handed, he struck first. His eyes gleamed beastly. He kicked off the ground like a lion on the hunt.
'Found the opening!'
One-armed cripple—balance all fucked.
Some Hero, swinging a sword like that.
Corpse fodder in the labyrinth within a week. No way he'd lose to this idiot.
"Will the Hero be okay!?"
The Priest clasped her hands. Johann answered straight.
"He'll win."
Since surviving the Parasite's Lure in the labyrinth, Vints had changed. Even Johann was shocked by his power-up.
Vints shifted his stance. A tactic his old self rarely used. The Hero of Flames preferred brute clashes, dodging with raw power rather than footwork.
But brushing death in the labyrinth taught him how simple steps could evade countless strikes.
Hendrick's assault was fierce and solid, but riddled with gaps. Overcommitting to power left inevitable flaws.
One step back, twist the body. The heavy axe whipped past his side, stirring blade-wind.
"Monkey tricks!"
Hendrick's combo raged on. Once he had momentum, he didn't stop till the foe dropped. His underground legend-maker.
Hendrick's brute force swung the 50kg-plus Skull Maiden like a toy. The axe arced vertically at Vints' right arm—nasty aim.
"Power of Flames!"
Red flames wreathed Johann's—no, Vints' sword. To counter Hendrick's carriage-crashing blow, he channeled his stigma. The flaming blade parried Skull Maiden effortlessly.
"Scissor X!"
Hendrick arched back, axe raised skyward, then slashed like scissors carving Vints in two, weighted with full torque.
Clang!
The clash sparked noise and fire. Vints' flames tried devouring the axe; Hendrick's axe pressured to snap the sword. Like coiling serpents, neither yielded, locked in a raw strength contest.
"Tch! For a one-armed cripple…!"
He'd forced a muscle-off, but it wasn't budging. Unfamiliar for Hendrick. And the guy was one-armed—disadvantaged. Yet Hendrick couldn't overpower him. Humiliating.
"Die! X Cross!"
Two diagonal slashes, axe berserk. Intent on mincing Vints. But Vints had his pattern down. Blind to anything but power.
Whoosh!
Blue flames cloaked the sword. Vints slipped through the frenzy's gaps, thrusting home.
"Ack! Hot hot hot!"
Blue flames pierced the axe-wind's blind spot, searing Hendrick's hand. His gauntlet melted from the inferno. Vints swung down at the exposed right shoulder.
"Gaaah!"
The arm lopped clean. No mercy—Vints halved it again. Even church healers would struggle now.
"Grk! My arm! Damn it! Healer, help! My arm's gone!"
Hendrick wailed desperately, but everyone ignored him. Even the Priest tsked, "Karma," refusing a glance.
The guards, watching, bound the neutralized Hendrick with ropes once Vints won.
"You're under arrest for obstructing official duties!"
"Fuck! Arrest me, whatever—just heal me first…!"
"Shut it, criminal scum!"
A classic case of reaping what you sow.