The Coward and the Wolf Ch. 05

It wasn't evil, it was survival. At least that's what he told himself. Besides if his defensive magic actually worked, then whoever he tested on wouldn't even know something was wrong. If something did go wrong then his test subject was a brave sacrifice. For Science!

Steve knew he was deliberately thinking about anything but the steaming corpse near him, but then again taking what was formerly a sentient being and turning it into something that best resembled a meat patty, did not exactly do wonders for his emotional wellbeing. A little introverted thinking was perfectly acceptable just after roasting someone to death. It could even be considered healthy.

He did take solace in the fact that said meat patty man had been trying to kill him at the time, although on the other hand meat patty man was the one who had been challenged to a fight to the death. By Steve. Who in turn was forced to do so by Bridgett. Who wanted meat patty man dead for trying to start a war. So really it was his meat patty man's own fault he had been reduced to a foul smelling meat pile. Yeah, that worked. Steve was now utterly vindicated and didn't have to feel any guilt.

Guilt was not an emotion that came easily to Steve. He had spent his entire life invariably screwing one person or another over for his own gains. He had only once or twice in that time felt a slightest twinge to his conscious.

He had however never killed before. Leave lasting damage to sods who didn't learn quickly, yes. Kill, no.

The feeling of ending a life even in what was primarily self-defense did not sit well with him. Actually that was incorrect; the thrill of victory he was currently feeling after destroying his opponent didn't sit well with him.

Steve could feel it ringing down in the core of his being, a little voice that was overjoyed to win, to destroy his obstacles so utterly. It was the same part of him that would congratulate him every time he beat down someone bigger or stronger than him. It was certainly not a healthy response to the first time he killed someone.

Steve knew he would kill, lie and steal as much times as it took to survive, but he would like to think he had enough moral fiber not to enjoy the killing bit of it. Of all the things he considered himself to be, a sociopath was not one of them.

A yellow bellied coward to be sure, he even took pride in his completely unscrupulous nature. Feeling like a sociopathic killer was a whole different ball game. It just did not fit with Steve's carefully constructed image of himself.

He didn't know whether to be horrified that he didn't feel bad for killing Kaltek, or happy that he wasn't bothered enough for it to affect his behavior. He was most definitely feeling a bit of both.

In the end all this didn't matter. He had survived, Kaltek had not. Steve wasn't going to be crippled with guilt or stop surviving. He may not be entirely happy with his own subconscious reaction to murder, but it wouldn't change his behavior in the least.

It had taken all of three seconds to come to terms with his first killing. He hoped.

Steve swore he felt a slight squelch when he moved to face his audience. He also hoped that this deep introspection was not cheapened by the distinct possibility of a light amount of 'follow through' in his briefs from his desperate fart earlier. That would really suck. He chuckled with a bit more vigor than was really needed. It was good to be alive.

"Sarah, Saltek, I do believe that I have had enough fun for one night. Perhaps we should retire for the evening" Steve said with as much levity as he could. He even felt a bit of levity.

Sarah eagerly joined him as he moved to leave. Saltek gave the remains of her father a few glances before resolving to follow her orders and ran to join Steve. The trio departed the silent room without as much as a backwards glance. No one moved to stop them.

Soars High, being a reasonable adaptable soul, eventually went to find a servant to get Lord Kaltek cleaned up with a mop and bucket.

---------------------------------------------------

Steve had one destination in mind. Saltek and Sarah were mostly silent. Sarah was in a sort of giddy haze, and Saltek was staring off into space.

Steve didn't really want to disturb the knight, possible patricide and all that, but he had a question to ask,

"Saltek, if 'Valtek' is your brother, and he is the head of the pro-war faction, who did I just kill and why did Bridgett want him dead?" He asked.

He didn't really see the need for subtlety. Once you have fried one of your traveling companions close family members to death, it sort of becomes a moot point.

Saltek snapped out of her daze, "That man was my father, Divine One. If it was truly a request from the Goddess that you duel with him to the death, then I imagine my brother is also fated to die. She must intend to destroy the people's faith in the pro-war faction by destroying the house most fervently supporting it, The Tek House."

She was completely monotone in her delivery.

"If my father and brother were to both die, then my house will have no members of the main bloodline left who will be able to inherit the lands and titles House Tek controls. The house, lands and servants will then likely be divided amongst the neighboring Lords. The people would see that House Tek was weak enough to be destroyed, and any factions related to it would be tarred by association. It would be a most effective means of destroying all public support for the pro-war faction."

Steve figured something like that would be the case. He offered his condolences, "Sorry, about killing your Father and causing your entire House to fall into ruin."

He even meant it. It really did suck to have someone with a pointy sword and a possible grudge against him as one of his defenders while he was in lizard-kin lands. He was really sorry about that. He also maybe felt a tad bit guilty about killing Saltek's father. A tad bit.

Saltek who had been in the middle of drifting back into deep thought, snapped back into focus at his apology, "Divine One, you misunderstand! To have been killed in a fair duel defending their honor is the wish of all lizard-kin. I am sure my father will be overjoyed to meet his ancestors in the afterlife and say that he died fighting a human!" Her voice had lost all of its far off monotone sound, and was damn near as giddy sounding as Sarah looked.

Steve realized then something he would rather not have known. Saltek hadn't been saddened by her father's death. She was overjoyed.

Lizard-kin culture had certainly taken a turn for the creepy in his mind. He made a note that the peoples of Sapheros didn't just get turned on by the thought of mating with strong people, they didn't much mind getting splattered by them either. Very creepy.

He made a non-committal comment, "Oh, that's nice. I guess."

Saltek nodded eagerly, a wide grin on her face, "Indeed, I am only saddened by the fact that my house is to be destroyed. Still, such is the way of things, they stood in the way of a stronger foe and were crushed. I am sure if my own oaths of loyalty to Royal House hadn't already removed me from the line of succession, my first act as the new head of house Tek would have been to swear a whole new oath of loyalty to the Royal House." She laughed heartily.

Steve resisted the urge to groan. He had wasted a few scant seconds of his carefully rationed compassion on the knight, and here she was happily discussing the complete destruction of her family's House. If ever their was an example of the yawning gap between the two's thought processes, it was most definitely on display here.

He moved away from the happily jabbering red knight and instead turned his attention to the hopefully more understandable and typically more level headed Sarah. He was to be disappointed.

She was still staring at him with a look that could only be described as pure adoration. Her normally dispassionate personality was in a sort of giddy love-struck mood. He had certainly seen the signs of it when he had defeated Kaltek with magic, he had just been too preoccupied at the time much to care.

Considering the deep seated animosity between the werewolves and lizard-kin, it was hardly surprising that she had enjoyed watching her master destroy one with unfathomable powers. A quick sniff of the air confirmed that she was most definitely 'excited' about the whole event.

Steve was in trouble.

Steve was tempted to move back to the still happily jabbering Saltek for protection from the possibility of getting his bones jumped in the middle of a busy street. He was sure Sarah would do it too. He had seen enough werewolves mating in the streets of her homeland to know that she wouldn't even think twice about mating in public.

It wasn't that he didn't trust Sarah to take no for an answer... actually, fuck that, he most definitely didn't trust Sarah to take no for an answer. Werewolves most certainly let whatever thought originated between their legs take precedence over anything else.

Not that he wouldn't mind some mutual fun with wiry werewolf. The problem was that he just happened to have a plan that had a very short sell by date attached. A plan that would go a long way to securing his own safety. As much as it pained him to say no, Steve had to be elsewhere right now.

He continued the entire trip back to Brigit's castle/mansion thing, not so subtly keeping the happily ignorant Saltek between him and Sarah. The white cloaked guards let them back onto the grounds without comment, and Steve was quickly ushered down the hallways to Bridget's throne room. The whole while he was wondering if two elite palace guard and a knight would be capable of stopping a magically enhanced werewolf in heat. Probably not. Still they might buy him enough time to make it to the throne room.

Fortunately they made it the throne room without incident. He was pretty sure it had been a close run thing though. The entire way over Sarah had been edging closer to him.

The white cloaks knocked on the doors and departed before hearing a response. Steve waited outside the door, praying for a snappy response. He could hear a light purring sound coming from behind him. It was creeping him out considering he was trying not to look at Sarah and he could hear it gradually getting closer.

Finally when Steve was beginning to feel the heat of Sarah's breath on the back of his neck, he decided that getting raped in the middle of the hallway was hardly going to be better than barging in uninvited so he pushed his way through the double doors. He swore he heard a growl of frustration from behind him.

Hopefully she wouldn't do anything foolish while he was absent. Like attack Saltek in a fit of Sapphic passion. If that didn't happen he would want to be there to see. Also it would be bad politically. As a side note. He had instructed her not engage in sex with others though, so it was incredibly unlikely. Still a dark dirty part of him could still hope.

The throne room was entirely empty. Steve could see one of the doors at the back had been left open, and just outside it was a crumpled white dress. Steve knew that in these sort of situations the smart thing to do was go get the guards. Unfortunately he didn't really have that option if he wanted to complete his plan. If he was going to complete his scheme it needed to be executed now. Time was a definite factor.

He cautiously approached the open door, making note of the sounds of rhythmic metal striking metal, and the distinct smell of smoke. Was it a forge? Dear god, was their anywhere these people didn't place forges?

He moved in just enough to stick his head carefully through the entrance. Sure enough, the room was a small forge. At the far end of it he could see an almost nude Bridget pounding away on an anvil. He said almost nude because she was wearing a pair of welding goggles, a pair of mufflers, and she was almost entirely covered in soot.

Steve was pretty sure that a forge was supposed to have a chimney and be relatively smoke free, so in order for her to be so entirely covered she must have been doing a pretty crappy job.

She must not have heard the knocks on the door because of the mufflers. This was actually incredibly convenient for his plans.

He raised the handgun. Instantly his mind was filled with thoughts of his own greatness and other such Sapherosian crap, but this time he was ready for it. He kept his core thoughts and intentions close and protected from the whirling maelstrom of magical influence. It wasn't nearly as strong as last time, which was perfect for what he had in mind.

The reason for its lack of power was probably because he didn't have a room full of witnesses thinking about the weapon. He had acted fast however, and because the weapon was still recent in the party members minds, he could still feel them thinking about the weapon and more importantly, thinking about what the weapon did when aimed at someone. In doing so they were inadvertently still filling the weapon with their power.

Steve didn't even need to speak. He simply thought the word,

"Fire!"

Instantly lightning leapt forth from the gun and arced towards Bridget's turned back. The power lanced towards Bridget before dissipating without so much as a flicker meters away from the goddess. Bridget didn't even notice. Which was good because thinking of an explanation for using a nation's goddess for weapons tests would be difficult.

Steve was overjoyed. He could clearly see the gradually fading symbol that had lit up on her neck when he fired. He hadn't been able to make out exactly what it was because of the soot covering her, but he knew without a doubt that the rune must have been some kind of 'anti-magic' or 'magic defense' symbol.

In truth he had been terrified that the weapon would actually hit her. In his original plan he had hoped to pretend when he showed Bridget the gun, it went off 'accidentally'. Not exactly one hundred percent believable, but considering she had nearly got him killed an hour or two ago, he would like to think his actions would be allowed a little leeway.

He had been almost ninety percent sure that the weapon wouldn't have been able to harm the goddess anyway. It would be incredibly unlikely that the goddesses didn't have some way of protecting against the magical abilities of their peers. Still, ten percent was a huge number when you're risking your life on the outcome.

He wished their had been another way, but Steve couldn't stand the possibility of going even a second longer entirely vulnerable to the possibility of magical attackers. Even a rat will take amazing risks when backed far enough into a corner.

Now he just had to get close enough to look at a symbol he hadn't even been able to see prior to it lighting up. Bridget must be significantly less confident, or significantly more paranoid than Talia if she felt the need to hide her markings with white paint on white scales. Steve made a note to use flesh color paint on his own markings when he got them. He considered paranoia an excellent survival trait.

The white ones he had right now were nice and all, but they were fading fast, and that had likely been the reason Bridget had been able to use magic on him when he arrived. Either that or the markings on him didn't really have all that much practical use, and Talia had just put them on to gloat about her ownership. Considering what Steve knew of the wolf goddess, both options were entirely possible.

Oh well, if he was going to be investigating the marking on Bridget's neck, he could think of one tried and tested excuse to run his hands and eyes over every inch of someone's body. He also kind of wanted to get even with her for nearly getting him killed. He didn't like holding grudges. He liked getting payback.

He snuck forward until he was a mere arm's length away from the intently focused Bridget. He reached out and deftly snatched the mufflers from atop her head.

"Oi, Bridget! You didn't answer your door, so I let myself in."

"WAH!?" Bridget shrieked before spinning round, hammer and half-finished sword in hand. Steve had just enough time to regret his practical joke before both objects slammed into his stomach and flung him a few feet backward.

Bridget immediately ripped off her goggles to see her would be attacker, accidentally revealing a pair of tear stained red eyes in the process. She nearly stared crying all over again with joy when she took in her still living human's sprawled out form.

"...Steve?"

She was certainly surprised and to see that her human was still alive. She had in truth thought that he had already been killed, and had retired to her forge to calm herself with the monotonous task of forging. It would have been impossible to stop the duel, and she had resigned herself to the loss of the first being in her entire life that she would have been allowed to one day call an equal and an ally at the same time. The first being who could have ended a lifetime of loneliness.

She had been cursing her impulsive decision from the second she found out that Steve didn't know how to use the Spear of the Gods. She had thought that her future partner had been killed, her own standing amongst the houses had been destroyed, and she had made an enemy of two other goddesses, all in one fell swoop. To say she was relieved to see her human alive and well was something of an understatement.

"EH? EH? EH? How...What...How did you survive!?" She cried with a volume that rang through the forge.

Steve would have liked to answer with some kind of witty quip, but a goddess hit harder than a regular lizard-kin even when caught off guard, and as such he was more than a little winded even with his super suit.

"Magic..." He wheezed.

In any other situation he imagined that would have been considered some kind of witty quip. Any other situation...

"Magic?" Bridget murmured, disbelief clear in her tone.

Steve felt more than a little insulted by that. It was one thing to accidentally nearly kill a man, quite another to not believe the outrageous comments they make as to how they survive.

Bridget shook her head. It had taken her years of trial and error to get the kind of careful control it took to wield any kind of magic that could be considered applicable for battle. She was entirely sure it had been the same for the other goddesses as well. Had Talia been teaching Steve? Even then he shouldn't have had enough power to defeat a fully grown lizard-kin warrior with but a few days training.

"How?" She asked.

She tried to inject authority into her tone. This was made more difficult with the fact that she had spent her entire life in this mansion. Her only conversations were with her guards and subordinates. Which is to say that she did not exactly know what a person with authority was 'supposed' to sound like, but she had read lots of books on the subject and was almost entirely sure that she was doing it right.

She had to maintain her strong appearance; if she didn't recover her confident mask then Steve would sense weakness and never respect her. The book she had read on werewolf social dynamics had made that very clear, and Steve had most definitely been influenced by his time amongst the werewolves.

She couldn't think of any other reason he let that stinky mangy mutt follow him about. Just thinking about how that disgusting 'Sarah' clung to her human made her want to smelt something down into a shapeless blob.

"I used the 'Spear of the Gods' or whatever the crap you call it as a catalyst for the party goers beliefs, and fried the fucker with the power of faith." Steve groaned.

He really wanted to lie and hide his newfound ability, but honestly he was dealing with a substance that he had no knowledge on whatsoever, a substance that had nearly killed him when he tried to use it.