1,000,000 Karma: My Reward Is a Quiet Life-Chapter 32: The Beast of New Temple

[...Minutes earlier...]

"Ugh, the air down here is...smokey," the archer complained, pulling his scar over his mouth.

The path through the mines led into a labyrinth of chains, dangling over abandoned mining equipment, from carts littered with webs to rusted pickaxes. Nothing was said from the orc who led the way, though the giant was watching the surroundings like a hawk.

While Otto took note of the orc’s caution, he kept watch himself, having more faith in his own senses. Particularly, he kept his eyes on the broad back of the partner assigned to him, finding himself inquisitive of the monster.

’He saved Astrid’s life, mine too...I know that for sure. I accept that he’s trying to change, but...that doesn’t mean it’s that easy for a monster to change their innate nature,’ the archer considered.

The four-armed giant came to a stop ahead, leaving the quiet-footed bowman to follow up behind him. A tunnel led forward, down a slope steep enough that coming back would be a difficult task.

"I’ll go ahead," Redrum claimed, leaning forward to fit into the smaller passage.

"Alright," Otto quietly agreed, following behind.

The path required some forceful steps so as not to stumble downward into the deep, dark. With gravel beneath his boots, the archer looked down, discovering his red-skinned companion lacked any protection for his feet.

"Hey, I don’t know if I said it before, but thanks," Otto quietly admitted. "For putting your body on the line to protect us that night."

"Thanks are unnecessary," Redrum stoically said, using his hands to crawl his big frame downward. "But appreciated."

"Listen, I’m still not–"

Before the young elf could get the words he wanted to say out, a piece of gravel beneath his boot came loose, completely compromising his balance. In that moment in the cramped, downward tunnel, there was nothing he could do to catch himself before smacking right into the back of his companion.

"Ghh–?!"

"Hrgh!"

The sudden impact from behind caused the orc to stumble down, leaving them both tumbling into the depths. There wasn’t much the short-tenured adventurer could remember before the fall finally came to an end with him laid out over a tough, red flat–

"Ah–" Otto let out, immediately picking himself up, realizing just where he landed.

The orc groaned briefly under him before getting to his feet, "That was...quite the descent."

"Yeah, sorry," Otto apologized with a shameful exhale, turning his attention to just where the bottom of the tunnel led. "Hey, let’s go quiet now, alright?"

The quiet suggestion came as he immediately felt a chill; perhaps it was his experience as a bowman, but in that cave, he felt an unnerving presence.

"Be on your guard. I think our target is here," Otto whispered.

Redrum silently heeded the archer’s words, the tenured warrior’s instincts more than sharpened.

The cave was certainly peculiar; walls painted red and black, with chains slick with tar dangling from the ceiling. It was only when neither of them filled the void did the silence become overwhelming.

As quietly as he could, the blonde archer slid an arrow along the string. He steadied his breathing; between the chains, his vision focused, adjusting to the darkness.

Within moments, the elf’s eyes completely adapted to the lightless space, finding a figure lurking—

Immediately, he released the arrow right on target of the enigmatic silhouette.

’Got it—!’ Otto thought.

Any triumph the young elf felt was quickly washed away like shells against a brushing wave as the arrow "split."

It was caught in the hand of the unknown figure, split in half with a single squeeze.

"Mister Otto—!" Redrum called out.

A moment was needed for the elf to process what the orc’s callout was about. He blinked a single time, finding the mysterious figure now in front of him with blinding agility.

"Huh?—" Otto let out.

Again, the archer found himself perplexed. The broad back of the orc was between him and the stranger now, shielding him from the thudding blow that came with the man’s arrival. An unmistakable, harrowing sound came from the impact, that of flesh being cut with an echoing squelch.

He moved himself out of the way as the towering companion of his stumbled by him, with a forearm now left gushing plentiful red. In front of them both was the cave-dwelling criminal, now in full display to his adjusted eyesight.

A beastly man that bordered on animalistic; long, unkempt hair that traveled down his back with bushy, muscular arms. The tall, burly stranger held a violent union of a greatsword and cleaver, that now dripped with fresh blood.

For the archer, there was something peculiar about the stranger; a familiarity, though he never met the person who attempted to take his life.

"An orc and an elf? Talk about a weird pairing, hah!" The man laughed with a deep, coarse voice.

The urge of violence from the stranger was a palpable sensation for the elf. Otto hastily drew another arrow from his back, slinging it back just as the burly figure dashed towards them.

"Hrg!—"

The orange-tipped arrow shot forth with a spark of embers, only to be caught once again in the bandit’s grip.

"Really?" The gruff man remarked with a grin.

With a rise of orange light from the arrow, the gleeful expression on the criminal adventurer’s face was wiped away.

Otto watched on with a huff, "Yeah, really."

Before the projectile could be thrown from the man’s hand, it erupted into a small explosion. All of the hanging chains swayed violently, filling the room with metal jingling.

A quiet breath left the now sweating elf’s lips, a few feet to his right, the orc held his bleeding forearm up. There was some strain and grunts, but through the sheer density of muscle, Redrum clenched his wound shut.

"That blade is tremendously sharp. Did you get him?" Redrum asked, looking over.

The archer slowly shook his head, looking towards the smoke while readying his bow again, "It felt like a direct hit, but not a chance. I recognize this guy...He’s trouble."

["Thros, the Beast of New Temple...I’ve never met him in person, but there’s been rumors of him in every guild in the country. An adventurer that specialized in hunting big monsters, using his unique blade tailor made for slicing through massive limbs.

While he was initially respected, it’s said after killing a Guardian Spirit, he was cursed with madness. One day when turning in a quest to the Herun Guild, someone made a passing remark on his "stench." This sent Thros into a rampage, killing over a dozen adventurers before fleeing the city. Now, he’s nothing more than a roaming beast."]