The Genesis of the Dead

The atmosphere was heavy and palpable. Everyone present felt that a fight could break out at any moment, the question was when. Zoran stared deeply at the stranger and weighed his options. Normally, he wouldn't be so quick to resort to violence. Normally, he'd ensure the man left and be done with it. But this, this thing, wasn't normal.

Over the years, Zoran had grown to trust his instincts. They had saved him more than once, and right now, those instincts were screaming like frightened children, warning him of imminent danger and death. He remembered the last time he'd felt this way the day he Awakened. Unconsciously, he made the first move.

The spear, dangerously close to Maveth's neck, retracted slightly only to thrust forward at incredible speed. Maveth was ready for it and successfully dodged by ducking under the incoming attack. The spear, now overhead, hung there for a moment before coming crashing down. Maveth dodged again with impressive agility.

Despite this, it was clear Maveth was slower than his opponent. His dodge left him unscathed only briefly, as a small but poignant wound appeared on his chest, grazed by the spear's sharpened edge. Zoran pressed his advantage, refusing to give his opponent a moment to breathe.

The consequences of Zoran's relentless attacks were visible in the surroundings. Leaves, dust, and dirt flew chaotically, and many nearby trees bore new scars, the result of Zoran's reckless yet precise strikes. In the chaos, both Freir and Asha took cover low to the ground to avoid the incoming shrapnel of shredded bark and loose twigs.

The fight steadily devolved into a game of cat and mouse, with Zoran attempting to skewer Maveth while the latter narrowly escaped with minor injuries. Yet, Zoran had had enough of this drawn-out struggle. He decided to end it in one decisive strike.

Halting for a moment, Zoran summoned what little mana he had to create a special attack. The tip of his spear began to glow faintly, and the surroundings quaked slightly under the pressure of his gathering energy. Maveth's eyes turned a shade of purple, and he moved instinctively to dodge the incoming danger. Fortunately for him, he wouldn't have to.

"STOP! ZORAN! PLEASE STOP!"

Asha's shrill, high-pitched cries rang out, breaking through Zoran's battle-focused state. She had placed herself between the two men, shielding Maveth with her small body. Loud sobs escaped her lips as tears rolled freely down her cheeks.

Zoran froze. What the hell was he doing? Without another thought, he ceased supplying mana to his spear, and its glowing tip returned to a dull metallic sheen. Freir, who had been dodging debris moments earlier, quickly ran over to comfort the crying girl. Meanwhile, Zoran just stood there, guilt weighing heavily on his shoulders. What had come over him? Why had he lost control?

He turned his attention to Maveth, who didn't look pained despite the numerous wounds on his body. His expression remained neutral, conveying no emotion. Yet his gaze still gave Zoran an eerie, unsettling feeling. Then Zoran's eyes shifted back to Asha, and an indescribable sense of regret and remorse flooded him.

He knelt to her level and gently placed his large hand on her head, attempting to soothe her. His gaze softened, and the kind but stern man she had always known returned. "You are brave. I will train you when we return," he said gently.

Asha's eyes widened, still red and puffy from her tears. "B-but my m-mom said no..." she choked out between sobs.

"You have the heart of a warrior. I will convince her. I'm sorry I scared you. I won't hurt your friend," he reassured her, patting her head rhythmically. Instead of calming her, his words seemed to release the floodgates. Her sobs grew louder as she threw herself into his chest and cried harder. After everything, getting lost, the fight, and her fear, it had been too much for one day. She was exhausted, and for the first time in hours, she felt safe. Sleep soon claimed her.

"Freir, carry her. I need a word with our guest," Zoran said after the girl had passed out in his arms. Though his voice was calm, his expression revealed his lingering distrust.

Freir nodded, carefully picking up the sleeping child. "You sure about this, Zoran?" he asked hesitantly.

"Go," Zoran replied, his tone leaving no room for argument. He turned his attention back to Maveth, still clutching his spear tightly.

"I will only say this once, so listen carefully," Zoran began, his voice low and resolute. "I don't know who you are or what you've done, and to be frank, I don't care. The only things I care about are in the place I'm taking you. If you try to harm that place in any way... Do I make myself clear?"

Maveth's expression remained blank as he nodded slightly. "Yes. Crystal clear."

For a long moment, neither man spoke, their gazes locked in silent understanding. Finally, Zoran turned and gestured for Maveth to follow. The eerie tension in the air dissipated slightly as the group began their slow trek back to the village, but Zoran's instincts remained on high alert.

Freir carried Asha carefully, his mind racing as he glanced back at the silent stranger trailing behind them. Zoran, too, kept his thoughts guarded, but one thing was certain, he would protect the people he cared about, no matter what.

Their trip was silent as the three men returned to the village long after the night began. Without looking around, Zoran led the group to the home that smelled of plants and herbs.

With a few knocks, a visibly anxious Silvia emerged, her face a mixture of fear and hope. When she saw Asha asleep but unharmed, an immense wave of relief swept over her, lifting the incredible weight she had been carrying since their fight earlier. She didn't know what terrified her more—her daughter returning injured or worse, or that the last things she had said to her were out of anger. Life was unpredictable, and she should have known better.

"What happened? Is Asha alright?" Silvia asked, her hands trembling as she carefully checked every inch of her daughter.

"She's fine, just had a long day," Zoran replied, helping to carry the girl inside and lay her gently on her bed.

"That's good. Thank you, Zoran. I don't know what I would have done if..." Silvia's words trailed off, her voice catching in her throat.

"She's safe now. That's what matters. Besides, this whole thing was my fault in the first place," Zoran said quietly, stepping back and leaving the room to give Silvia space to tend to her child.

"Don't I get a thank you?" Freir piped up from where he stood awkwardly with the silent Maveth.

"Of course. Thank you, Freir." Silvia glanced at him with gratitude before her eyes landed on Maveth for the first time. "And who, may I ask, is this?"

"Oh, this is Maveth. We met him today in the woods," Freir answered helpfully.

"Hello, Maveth. I'm Silvia. I'm the village—what the hell happened to your arm?" Silvia began to introduce herself but stopped mid-sentence as she noticed the man's noticeable injuries. Without waiting for an explanation, she was already examining the wounds coating his body and fetching her supplies.

"Everyone but Maveth, out," she ordered, moving swiftly from shelf to shelf, gathering what she needed.

"Hang on," Zoran said, stopping her and gesturing for her to step aside for a private conversation.

Freir and Maveth stood awkwardly in the small living room, the silence between them growing heavier by the second. Freir, unable to stand it, decided to break the ice.

"So... how's it going?"

Maveth turned his head and looked directly into Freir's eyes. The silence returned, and Freir quickly learned to appreciate it.

In another room, Zoran and Silvia spoke in hushed tones.

"We don't know this man. He could be affiliated with those bandits. Helping him is a risk," Zoran said, his tone low but firm.

"Then why did you bring him here if you didn't want me to help him?" Silvia shot back, visibly annoyed.

"I don't want to let him out of my sight. He's too dangerous to be left alone with you two."

"When Freir first brought you in here half dead, half the village said the same thing," Silvia countered.

"That's different."

"How?"

"He's not normal!"

"What the hell does that even mean? Look, right now, even if he is a bandit or a criminal or whatever, he's still my patient. That's not going to change. So take Freir and go so I can treat him."

Zoran knew she wouldn't back down. Silvia's stubbornness was as legendary as her skill. He relented with a sigh. "Fine. But I'll be keeping watch nearby in case he tries anything."

"I don't need a babysitter," she muttered, waving him off as she returned to the main room.

"Let's go," Zoran said to Freir, practically dragging him out of the house.

Now alone with her patient, Silvia turned her full attention to Maveth. "Alright, let's take a look at that arm," she said, her voice softening slightly.

Wordlessly, Maveth let her examine the limb. She muttered to herself as she worked, occasionally glancing at the other wounds covering his body.

"How did this happen?" she asked.

"I was attacked by a beast."

"A beast, huh? You're lucky to be alive. Now, do you want the good news or the bad news?"

"I don't understand the difference. Both are information I lack. Their morality is irrelevant," Maveth replied, his tone as neutral as ever.

"I see what Zoran meant now," Silvia muttered under her breath before continuing. "Good news first: this doesn't appear to be fatal. Normally, there would be significant blood loss, but for some reason, there's no blood at all. Now, for the bad news. Some beasts have strange abilities, as I'm sure you're aware. I've never seen anything like this, but I believe the creature that attacked you has somehow prevented you from bleeding. My current hypothesis is that once this effect wears off, you'll hemorrhage and lose consciousness. I'd like to keep you nearby in case the worst happens."

Maveth nodded slightly, as if to signal his understanding. "Your assistance is appreciated."

Silvia paused, momentarily thrown off by the man's calm acceptance. Most patients panicked or protested when faced with potentially life-threatening injuries. This one was as stoic as a statue.

"Well, let me patch you up as best I can in the meantime. Sit still and try not to move," she instructed, her tone firm but kind.