Broken Worlds

Chapter 10: The battle in question

Trigger warning: This scene may be graphic so if you think you can't handle it please skip. This section is also quite long so grab your snacks or tea or whatever lol. Enjoy!

Meanwhile, in the more troubled part of Fungaloria, a hooded figure strode through the streets, his cloak billowing behind him like a dark cloud. The area once-peaceful with roaming mushroom folk was now a grim tableau of destruction. Dozens of shroom citizens lay slaughtered, their colorful caps trampled and torn. The air was thick with spores and the stench of decay.

Amidst the carnage, a figure stood hunched over a wooden cart, his back to the hooded stranger. Leonard, with his wild hair and youthful energy, was rummaging through the wares of an unfortunate merchant, whose lifeless body lay crumpled nearby.

"Make yourself attractive potion? Who needs that?" Leonard scoffed, tossing a bottle over his shoulder. It shattered against the cobblestones, its contents oozing out like a shimmering, iridescent puddle. He lifted the merchant's head by the hair, giving it a playful shake. "Hey! Do you have anything actually worth taking in here?... Whoops, looks like you're already dead," he said, chuckling to himself.

The hooded figure paused, taking in the scene of chaos and destruction. He let out a long, disappointed sigh, his breath fogging up in the cool air. "You must be the daft one," he said, his voice a low rumble.

Leonard spun around at the sound, his eyes squinted at the stranger. "It's not nice to call people names," he chided, wagging a finger at the stranger. But his gaze flicked to the sword the man held at his side, and his expression shifted.

The stranger drew the sword, its blade gleaming with intricate engravings that seemed to dance in the twinkling lights. It was an artistic looking weapon, one that Leonard studied. His eyes widened in surprise and, for a moment, the excitement flickered across his face.

The atmosphere is crackled with tension, a charged silence hanging over the scene like a thick fog. The hooded figure, seemed to be in no hurry. His sword, gleaming with ancient runes, caught the dim light filtering through the ruined buildings, casting reflections on the cobblestones nicely polished. He stood poised, knowing what he had to do.

Leonard, on the other hand, was a jester in the court of madness, his wild hair framing a youthful face that wore a perpetual grin, even as the shadows of death loomed large. He was a creature of chaos, and chaos was his playground. As he stood there, the remnants of his latest act of violence clinging to him like a second skin, he felt a thrill of excitement race through his veins. The stranger's presence was an invitation to a game he relished.

"Oh! You're that guy we're supposed to be looking out for," Leonard exclaimed, his voice dripping with mock cheerfulness. He waved his hands dismissively, as if to brush aside the seriousness of the moment. "No worries, just go back and tell boss man we have everything under control!"

The hooded figure's eyes narrowed, scanning the surrounding carnage. "There's nothing I hate more than messy workers," he replied, his voice low and gravelly. "My master would say the same." The weight of his words hung in the air, a reminder that recklessness had a price.

Leonard's grin widened, unfazed by the stranger's ominous tone. "I see you won't leave until we've had some fun," he said, a glint of mischief igniting in his eyes. With a flourish, he produced a swinging axe from within the folds of his robe, its blade glistening with the remnants of his previous victims. Leonard lifted the weapon, licking the blood from its edge with a playful flick of his tongue, savoring the taste of his own madness.

The hooded figure stood still, an unyielding statue in the midst of chaos. He was a warrior forged in the fires of battle, and he would not be swayed by Leonard's antics. With a sudden burst of movement, he charged forward, the sword held high, ready to strike down the embodiment of chaos before him.