Guts. Not much is known about this man. Mages have investigated into this character, only to discover old transcripts that mention king Arthur. Many have tried to summon him. All have failed.
The eldest daughter was shaking in her boots as she looked at the man in front of her. He was tall, big and wore a grayish armor on his chest and torso, leaving his legs and arms bare. Upon his head was the skin of a black wolf, the top of it's jaw resting on his head as the arms came down on either side of his chest, the rest of the skin hanging off his back. The men behind him, a party of maybe a thousand men wore similar garb like him, but were not as big or muscular as him.
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"Did a suspicious group come through here with a wounded woman?"
"I.....uh.....umm....."
The man noticed her shaking in place. He looked down her body and then to the family that stood outside the small house. The mother and middle child were rather attractive as well. The only men were the round father and the younger son, barely old enough to hold a sword.
"Hmmm...." The man held his chin as he looked into the air. "Before the dragon hunt....guess I'll get the juices flowing a bit...."
Faster than the eye could follow, the man reached for the sword on his hip and threw it directly at the father, hitting the father's mouth and impaling the father to the house. The party behind the leader descended upon the family. They sliced the young boy's head off as they closed in. The man grabbed the eldest child and dragged her inside, she tried fighting him off desperately as the others descended upon the only women there, ripping off their clothes after being thrown inside the house. The eldest watched as the man unclipped his crotch guard and closed in on her.
"It's my motto." He said as he grabbed her legs. "Make it fun. Make it simulating."
The women cried as they were violated and the man smiled in twisted joy as he remembered why he was here.
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"Ah, Wyald. It's a pleasure to meet you."
Morgan smiled down at the man who kneeled at the dais. Wyald, leader of the Black Dog Knights. Morgan could tell this man was dangerous just from the aura that came off him. But Morgan didn't fear him. If he was indeed unhuman, Morgan could handle it. She had slain giants when she was fifteen years old.
"The pleasure is all mine, Queen Morgan." Wyald greeted her with respect. "May I inquire why a Queen has requested my presence?"
"I've heard of your tales of your reputation." She answered.
"All good things, I hope." He smiled as he stared at the shiny floor beneath him.
"My definition of 'good' is rather vague." Morgan smirked as she stood up from her throne. "I require your services in tracking down some fugitives."
"And who, pray tell, has done you so much harm for you to seek me out?" Wyald asked, looking up from the ground.
"....a false king, Artoria Pendragon." Morgan informed him as she stood on the edge of the dais. "I want her, and the rest of the fugitives hunted down."
".....the catch?" Wyald asked her with a grin.
"Your more perceptive than Leondegrance made you out to be." Morgan smiled. Out of thin air, two pieces of paper appeared before Wyald. He grabbed them and examined the pictures on it. "I want my dear sister brought to me alive, alongside a man named Guts.....feel free to break one of his legs, but don't harm him anymore than that. Subdue them and return them to me."
"....never took someone alive before." Wyald told her. He rolled the posters up and shoved them into his satchel. "What's my reward?"
"I heard of your 'tastes' and preferences." Morgan smiled as she descended the dais and stood directly in front of Wyald. "Among the fugitives is a woman known as Mordred. She will entertain you for as long as you want. But kill everyone else, this I ask of you."
"......very well." Wyald bowed his head as Morgan patted his head. "Your much more easier to deal with than your dear uncle......who knew his niece could be more sick and twisted than him."
"Unlike my uncle, I'm not held by a dead sense of honor." Morgan told him as she floated back to her throne. She tossed him a vial with a red liquid in it. Wyald caught it and examined it. "That's the blood of my dear sister. You'll notice a smell that's intoxicating. Dragon blood. Follow it and you'll find where she is."
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"Alright men, let's chase down this dragon!"
Wyald roared as he rode away from the farm. His men followed behind in a stampede, spears raised into the air.
Upon those spears was the dismembered bodies of the family.
End.
Criticism is welcome.
I felt disgusted writing this, but I need none berserk fans to know how truly FUCKED UP berserk can be.
