Chương 42: The Price of Mercy

We ran toward the storm drain, hearts pounding with urgency and exhaustion. The heavy rain had turned the entire area into a flooded mess, and the underground passage was fuller than usual, water rushing around our ankles. At least the fresh rain reduced the stink which usually grew so strongly in such places, washing away some of the rot and filth that had clung to these tunnels for far too long. After opening the hatch, we got out and made our way through the chaos. Panic filled the streets as people ran around.

Some guerrilla citizens had formed into makeshift soldiers to patrol the outside as the real force had to go support the ambushed unit. With the citizens having their eyes wide in panic, they did not see us running into an alley. Before that, Galer decided to give his coat to hide the unconscious man from any potential prying eyes. We folded it tightly around him, making the professor look like nothing more than a heavy object I was carrying on my back. Then we climbed a building.

As Galer reached the top, I threw the professor up for him to catch. It was a close call. The wet surface made Galer slip, and for a terrifying second his foot slid dangerously close to the edge. He nearly missed the catch, his fingers brushing the coat before he managed to grab hold of it with both hands. In the end he still caught the unconscious man, pulling him up with a grunt of effort. I climbed up too, my heart hammering from the narrow escape. From there we both went toward the hill.

This time we did not try our luck. I said I would carry him on my back. I tied the professor tightly to me while Galer stayed behind as a last ditch effort in case I failed to keep him or if I myself could not continue. Luckily there was no need. Taking the man again on my back, I began the climb up the wet cliff. The rain had made the rocks slippery and treacherous, forcing me to move with agonizing slowness. Every step was deliberate, my boots scraping for grip as I tested each hold.

I could not afford a single mistake, one slip and we would both tumble down the steep face, wasting important given time. I paced myself carefully, refusing to rush the climb up, while slowly making real progess i checked from time to time the situation below me, the outpost was in chaos. Flames licked at the courtyard, casting flickering orange light into the night. The sounds of intense battle... clashing steel, screams, and the roar of visceral combat, that carried clearly even as we made our fast retreat.

The war we had helped ignite was raging full force. Overall, It took us 23 minutes of careful, heart-pounding climbing until we finally made it to the top. My legs finally free from the climbing effort, but relief washed over me as we reached solid ground. Once on the ground at the cliff top we saw a makeshift citizens turned soldiers group on top. In panic they attacked us.

Their faces were twisted with fear and desperation, eyes wide as they charged with whatever weapons they could find pitchforks, swords, shields. They were not weak, but they were not trained soldiers either. Still, their numbers and panic made them dangerous. Galer and I exchanged a quick glance.

"We have no choice," he said grimly.

"They'll alert the rest if we let them live." I nodded, my chest tight with regret.

"I know… but they're just scared people protecting their home. This is the downside of war, but since we are here i will do the killing Galer. Let them curse at me and call me monster... you protect us on strong fighters." I fought them quickly. My sword-axe flashed as I cut down five in rapid succession, trying not to think about the lives we were ending. In the end, I killed all 27 makeshift soldiers. Their bodies lay scattered across the wet ground, the rain washing their blood into the earth.

I stood there breathing heavily, staring at the fallen for a second. We both ran toward the northeast, heading back to the village. After three hours I insisted on keeping the man on my back while Galer offered his support. Galer, breathing heavily beside me, slowed for a moment and called out, "Erumes, switch with me. You've carried him long enough. Let me take him for a while." I shook my head stubbornly, adjusting the professor's weight on my back despite the burning in my muscles.

"No. I know you can carry him, but I need to carry him!" In my mind the reason burned clear: I saw the fresh blood still seeping from Galer's wounds, the way he had fought far more intensely than me again. I was once more behind him, relying on him. I did not want to "use" him anymore. I wanted to become equal to him in Animo, to stand beside him as a true rival, not a burden he had to protect or take pity on. I knew I could not accept it. Another hour passed, as i was in my thoughts. Finally I fell down.

I had run past my limit and covered a good chunk of distance. The day grew hotter and the trouble in this dry forsaken sand became unbearable. I could not stand this biome any longer. Galer took the professor from me. I could only stubbornly shake my head at yet again failing what I wanted to do. The frustration burned deep inside me, a bitter, suffocating wave of self-anger rising in my chest.

I had promised myself I would carry him the whole way, that I would not fall behind again, that I would finally prove I could stand on my own two feet without constantly relying on Galer. And yet here I was lying like a failing child once more, just like always, punching the sandy biome in anger of it all. With that thought burning anger in my mind, I grabbed the professor from Galer and ran ahead with all I had left, pushing my exhausted body beyond its limits.

My legs screamed in protest, my lungs burned like fire, and my vision started to blur at the edges, but I refused to stop. I had to deliver on this one small thing. I had to show myself I wasn't always the pitied on one. Finally, completely out of breath and energy, I collapsed right before the village entrance. My knees hit the ground hard, and the professor rolled off my back. I lay there, chest heaving violently, fists clenched in the dirt, pissed off at myself more than ever.

Once again, I couldn't even carry one unconscious man the full distance. How was I supposed to catch up to Galer, to face stronger enemies, to keep my promises… if I couldn't even do this simple thing? Galer, impressed by my stubborn recklessness, lifted me onto one shoulder and the professor onto the other with surprising ease. In much better condition than either of us, he carried the rest of the way while I remained limp and weak in his grip. I was still pissed, staring at the ground as it passed beneath us.

How much more did I still need to work on? How long would I keep falling behind like this? The old man stood there waiting for us as we finally arrived. Galer walked up and gently set both of us down. He then turned to the still unconscious professor and said, "You can stop playing possum, buddy." He clapped the man's cheeks with no reaction.

"If you do not open your eyes I will rip you down there a jewel with full force. You do not want that, do you?" Suddenly Étienne opened his eyes with full glare and panic. His cheeks were red and swollen.

"Hiii… as in scared… I'm awak'." The old man gave all three of us mint tea and cactus to refresh ourselves. We took a seat in the now slowly repairing village. The old man asked us what had happened and if why was the man he wanted dead not yet dead? Even now, staring at the man responsible for so much pain, the old man's hands trembled slightly as he poured the tea. His eyes held a storm of conflicting emotions deep, burning hatred for the scholar who had taken his family, yet also a weary sense of justice.

He wanted the truth first. He needed to hear it from the man's own mouth before deciding his fate. Whether mercy or death, it would be his choice to make. Not ours. Not driven by blind rage. He still offered the professor a cup of tea with steady hands, as if feeding his enemy was the only way to remain human in this broken world. We told him everything.

The underground laboratory, the cages, the broken humans turned into puppets, the red tourmaline crystals, the Gargoyles, and how the professor had been experimenting on living people in the name of " evolution." The old man listened in silence, his face growing paler with every word. When we finished, he stared at Étienne dú Sissione for a long time. The professor, still bound and trembling, tried to look dignified behind his monocle, but the fear in his eyes betrayed him.

Finally, the old man spoke, his voice low and heavy.

"So… you took my daughter and son-in-law. You turned them into… those things?" The professor opened his mouth, but no clever words came out. For once, he stayed silent. Then the old man, Galer, and I whispered about the options, huddled together in the corner of the small room while the professor sat bound and silent a few meters away. The old man's voice was low and trembling with barely contained rage.

"He took my daughter… my son-in-law… turned them into those… things. I want him dead. I want to watch the light leave his eyes." Galer shook his head slowly, keeping his tone calm but firm.

"Killing him now would be easy. Too easy. Think bigger. This man knows how to turn normal people into monsters with those crystals. If other nations find out what he can do, they'll come for this village. But if we keep him alive and force him to work for us… he becomes more then just leverage. A weapon you control. You could use his knowledge to protect these children, to rebuild for a greater future." I looked between them, my own anger still boiling.

"He deserves to die for what he did. But… Galer is right. If we kill him now, we lose leverage for protecting these kids future and potentially going back to the mines. We could make him fix this broken down village to a proper new state. Make him help these kids, heal the village. Show him what real humanity looks like. If he refuses… then we end him." The old man stared at the ground for a long moment, fists clenched. Finally he let out a shaky breath.

"If he truly helps… if he shows even a shred of betrayal.... the moment I see lies in his eyes, I will cut his throat myself." I nodded.

"Agreed." Then I stepped forward and spoke.

"Étienne dú Sissione, you have two options right now. One, die for the sins you committed on the people of Ghaddu, especially turning them into these hideous beasts. Option two is you take your experience as a doctor and work on cleansing your freak of a soul. Repair the village as a start to revitalize these kids and the old man. Show the others all around Ghaddu that their spirit remains and that they have a chance of recovery as a sovereign new state." The professor answered boldly.

"Bold of you to assume I would support these outdated humans and have a change of heart for a state as small as this. You are actually an airhead. Everyone will find out about the ore's potential and try to grab the mountains which are a bit off from here. The danger just being here is high. But the state of Ghaddu itself is beyond saving. It is like throwing a man in the Mare Nostrum who has a hole in his boat with a paddle which is useless. The ocean holds no prisoners, it shows no mercy and eats you alive.

That is how states are built, on the same premise. So I take option one. Go ahead and beat me to death." Galer and I took his clothes off and began torturing the professor. The man screamed in pain yet kept laughing.

"This is painful and my first time I get beaten this much, but for my… no, our shared dream of improving life and evolving humans into a new age, I accept it all." The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation. Before that, Galer had beaten him mercilessly fists slamming into ribs, stomach, and face and even crushed one of his jewels with calculated force. Yet the professor stayed in a zen-like state, eyes half-closed, breathing steady, as if he had already accepted death and welcomed it.

He refused to scream, refused to beg, only smiled faintly like a martyr embracing his end. We could not allow that. He was too valuable as leverage, and his knowledge held the potential to heal this broken place and its people. Killing him now would solve nothing. The old man, drawing from his time as a soldier, recalled a method once used by his former General Faizhal, a technique they called the "Feather Tickle." It was infamous among prisoners for breaking even the hardest wills without leaving permanent scars.

With a grim smile, the old man brought out the feather and began to perform it. He started to tickle his feet while we held his limbs firmly in place. The professor's body jerked violently the moment the feather touched his soles. At first he tried to fight it, teeth clenched, face red, muscles straining against our grip, but it was useless. The man burst into uncontrollable laughter, loud, hysterical, and humiliating. He could not keep it under control no matter how hard he tried.

His legs twitched and kicked wildly, his whole body convulsing as tears streamed down his face from the sheer intensity of it. After one hour, even when he begged through broken gasps, "Let me be, I want to die, stop... please stop, i beg of you!", we took a ten minute break and did it again and again. Each round grew worse for him. His laughter turned into desperate, wheezing screams. His dignity crumbled piece by piece.

After the fourth time the man peed himself and shat his pants, warm liquid and filth spreading across the floor beneath him. The smell mixed with his broken sobs as his body finally gave out completely. Finally he broke.

"Good, good, just let me go from this horrendous torture... you guys won. I will dedicate myself to the sake of these outdated humans as long as you never, and I mean ever, tell anybody what happened today. I cannot have anybody know that I got tickled and peed and shat myself. And never use this overpowering torture method against anybody, while I am here to remain or I choose death again."

Before the old man even shook the professor's hand, he took a huge breath, punched the man once in the stomach and once in the face. The lying man got then his hands shaken.

"That was for my children. I will not kill you as long you help these forsaken children grow into hopeful ones or i will use the method again." And so the now stripped and lightly clothed in white Étienne dú Sissione became the teacher of this village, while the old man remained the elder. The children insisted we stayed, but we had to move on. Other dangers could be brought here because of our existence. The kids gave the old village a new name as a state-forming free village: Amalyi.

It means "Hope" in their language. Galer and I told them, "You guys picked a great name. Never lose that hope. May Michaelanius carry a great journey ahead for the Free State Village Amalyi." And so we turned on the wake of the next day toward the deep sun-blocking trees ahead of us continuing westward.