Mercenary in the Wild

Day 13. Vengeance

The Mercenary leapt out the window with masterful technique, having enough momentum to launch himself over the stables and then using his right hand to further propel himself forward. He brought his legs in front of him as the grass was approaching rapidly and he rolled upon hitting the ground. Fluidly, he broke into a dash, swift and economic, his endurance started to kick in after five minutes. Being a swimmer at heart, he had the advantage of greatly enlarged lungs and far more efficient usage of oxygen along with resilience against lactic acid until transferring to an aerobic regime of physical effort.

From Hateno village, he ran through the Midla Woods and kept off the main pathway, catching glimpses of Kaepora in the distance. He passed by Hateno Tower as he crossed over the Fir River then hurried into Lake Jarrah. The Second Hellwalker had to make sure not to run into any travellers. He had to keep hidden right now, which meant heading north towards the Cliffs of Quince. He wasn't certain how disastrous it all had been, but he had a nauseous feeling towards what had transpired and what he felt guilty of.

He wasn't going at top speed, only around eighty percent of his full capabilities in his base state, though mainly because he could maintain it almost endlessly. The demonic mutant was coming up on Fort Hateno, beyond it being Blatchery Plain and Ash Swamp. Gaepora's trail led towards the northern region, beyond the Pillars of Levia, near where the settlement of the Sheikah was. Kakariko Village... the Eden's influence screamed at him to massacre all that he found there, yet The DOOM Slayer roared in defiance.

Making use of his grappling hooks, he effortlessly leapt over the walls of the Fort, twisting over it and landing in Blatchery Plains when a few certain scents were caught by his senses upon the wind hitting his face. He remembered those odours, since, once he'd felt them, he was unable to forget or mistake them. It was Alexi, Makarov's trusty right hand, Rodion, the sellsword with no name at Makarov's beck and call, Dark Lynx, the Hero's shadow made from Ganon's malice and Dark Star, the New God made from Dark Lynx and under his command. All four were right there, in the Ash Swamp of Necluda.

The Bearer of The DOOM Slayer didn't care why they were there, he wanted some payback for what they did, more memories of what he'd witnessed coming to the forefront. How merciless they were in outright executing and exterminating innocents, his teeth gritting as he bared his predatory teeth.

Among the decayed husks of destroyed Guardians, the four were alerted by the smallest of them that The Mercenary was coming for them.

"Uh... I think we kinda have a problem, guys!" Dark Lynx took a step back upon seeing the imposing figure from whom the red rage aura rolled off.

Dark Star turned with burning crimson eyes, fists clenched and prepared for battle. "So the demonic mutant comes... let him."

Seemingly impassive, all that Rodion did was glance over his left shoulder while his right hand grabbed the hilt of his Argent sword. He was ready to fight.

Alexi scoffed and got his Barren Falcon pistol ready. "Seems like someone needs a dose of discipline. We must stop him before he impedes our plans." He commanded, being the impromptu leader as Makarov and Ganondorf were nowhere near them.

Dynamo extended his blades, sneering and growling as he chanted. "Tei Slaven ben kar en tuk...!" (The Slayer will rip and tear) Step after step, they quickened. "Kar en tuk Hust en Vitar...!" (Rip and tear Hell and Heaven) And broke into a full-on charge, blades out at his side. "Kar en tuk DU TEI EXUNT!!!" (Rip and tear until the death) The warcry of The DOOM Slayer ripped from the back of his throat. "KAR EN TUK ALDTY MARANTEN!!!" (Rip and tear your guts) Before the battle was brutally joined.