Ranger of Path

53. Brother From Another Mother

If the way to a man's heart is through his stomach

Then the way to a woman's is through her ears

Speak sweetly with a sarcastic smile

Tickle her pride with false compliments

Woo with words while looking away

Women don't trust honesty

Let lies worm through the truth

Master illusion

With a child's face

Eat her food

True love

Found

—Haden Abdi Nasar

Ishkur's enhanced body smacks into coarse canvas, and his leg snaps against something metallic. Moaning, he blinks as his verdant glow fades.

Stinks like fried fish.

An arrow thunks near his hip, and he flinches with a grimace as his breastplate knits cracked bone.

"Hold your shots," says the purple-plumed lieutenant.

Is Peacock giving me a chance to surrender?

Horses neigh and men grunt.

"Drag the tent clear, then feather the fool with arrows!" says the officer.

"Hey, Peacock, have you ever faced a juggernaut?" Ishkur howls like a wolf and stretches his recovering leg. "I cut through ogres, easy as a lumberjack through pine trees! I'll harvest you wheat stalks like a farmer with an epic sickle!"

"Just like the commander said, a big talker!" says Peacock, and his men jeer. "He can tap a little fae power though, so pelt him good! Man with the most hits gets my ale ration and first crack at that new whore!"

"Is she pregnant?" Cevee?

Laughter and more jeers. So be it.

"Cloak." All! Strength! Glow muted by the effect of his rerebrace, Ishkur surges out of the tangled remains of the kitchen tent that broke his fall.

A few arrows fly as he sprints, closing the distance. One manages to strike where his helmet meets breastplate, but fails to break through the seam.

Peacock tries to dodge. "Loo—"

Ishkur's blade is a blur with the strength of a berserker behind it—no charge effect needed.

Not personal.

Peacock's head rolls off, and a fountain of red replaces purple feathers.

I kind of liked you.

Ishkur turns and his pauldron's mystics slow a half-dozen missiles to clatter at his feet. "Come out, Haden!" He blinks as his power fades and an arrow scratches the back of his knee.

Poke! Pinch! All! Strength!

Breath held and polearm spinning, he rushes the troops shooting at him.

Armor parts, bows crack, and bones snap. Merridian's mercy. More blood sprays and more heads roll.

With a ranger's power, I really am a juggernaut.

Soldiers turn in ones and then twos, and then all those still standing scatter to leave only a few whimpering wounded. Ishkur gasps, power fading, and wipes his blade clean on a moaning soldier's uniform.