God of Hell - Chapter 18 - The Decisions That Make A Person (Patreon)

Hell was horrible, it was terrifying, blood curdling, sick and twisted. But like a lot of things, it had a routine, and with enough time, minutes blended into hours, hours into days, and days and into weeks.

After being accepted, Nero had spent the next day training with his new Master. Cain was a cruel woman, as her name might have suggested, She eagerly showed him as much through the boulders he was forced to lift, and the distances he was forced to trek while carrying them.

He climbed hills until his pores had no more sweat to give and nails no more space to accommodate additional dirt crustings, ran so many miles he wondered whether he might have encircled the earth before finishing were he to do it back home. Swung big, overly heavy rods of iron with such excessive speed and regularity that he started flaying his palms with the grip required to handle them.

He wondered if she was just being cruel to him, after all with his supernatural might he figured he didn’t actually need to put his body through gruelling physical labour to be powerful.

He kept his questions to himself however, so when night came he was a panting haggard mess and Cain a cackling witch.

Nero had been able to needle out some bits of valuable information during the training sessions however. It seemed he was correct about Might being the root of his superhuman abilities and that it could be divided into Strength, Speed and Toughness. Cain had disgruntledly told him that he had an equal and unusually high amount of each for someone in Limbo, and that ‘Most idiots as strong as you would have already gathered some other idiots to help you slay a summoning beast, left for Luxuria to begin their descent towards the Paradise Key and then promptly gotten themselves killed along the way.’

Luxuria was probably what they called the second Circle of Hell, so that much he had followed, but he found himself stumped by the other half of that sentence.

Paradise Key?

It seemed like perhaps one could somehow get to the heavens through the Nine Circles. 

Nero entertained the idea of perhaps descending through the circles himself, but the way Cain talked about it didn’t make it seem like something that would end with his heart still beating.

He could barely handle all that Limbo had thrown at him so far and was not eager to up the difficulty on himself already.

He had to grow stronger, and luckily Cain was just the right person to help him with that. That night while Nero could barely feel his legs and could hear nothing but his heartbeat, she had said. ‘There is only one way to improve Might, and that is to constantly push your body through horrible torture day in and day out to draw out your power through your vessel…’

It had all left her lips with a smirk that seemed fueled by the agony that coursed through him. 

At the very least that gave him some appreciation of his current predicament.

His strength was being trained by having him lift boulders, durability was honed by taking punches from Cain and speed was gained through his endless running.

It was speed that Nero had decided he should focus on the most however, because he had very little intention of weathering blows from monsters or getting into strength matches with them either, if he saw something he didn’t like the look of, Nero wanted to be out of there as quickly as possible.

When he had asked Cain for that, much to his relief, she had agreed to help him improve his speed without a second thought.

He had gotten a small room for himself- half off as the innkeeper was a fan of him, and Nero wanted to do nothing but sleep in until his next training session with that evil, evil, woman.

He couldn’t however, he had more training to do, and  lots of it. Boris was able to perform ranged attacks, in fact it had been a defining feature of their fight, he didn’t know if he could replicate that but he wasn’t just going to sit back and never find out.

So Nero enacted his plan. When it was bright outside, he ventured out of the town and beneath the hills of the region where he practised his Light Breathing.

He worked on holding onto his light for longer. That, he found, was more a matter of focus than anything else, and so were his efforts to make his Light Breathing burn brighter.

Both were successful, the former far more than the latter however.

His major concern was in converting his Light Breathing into a projectile. His approach was simple, he would think really hard at it. It had worked before, so why not try it again?

He summoned a light in his palm, pointed it at the side of a hill and willed the light towards it. 

Nothing happened, save from precious Light Breathing time being wasted and Ember ‘helpfully’ pointing out as much.

Nero persisted right up until the early hours of the afternoon when he began to feel a tingling in his fingers.  “Wait, I think something’s happening-” The light exploded in a violent flash, blinding Nero for a moment and leaving him stumbling in the dark.

“Fuck!” He cursed.

“We did it!” Ember chirped. “Well not it… but something. We did something!” She clapped.

She failed to infect him with her positivity, but even blinking away stars and tears Nero couldn’t deny that it was progress. Wild, chaotic progress, but progress nonetheless. 

He would continue tomorrow, it was time for him to go train with Cain.

Nero went off in high spirits and found that spirit thoroughly beaten to a pulp after another day of gruelling torture.

The next day he was off in the early morning again to work on his Light Breathing and in the afternoon he was back to Cain’s insane sadism.

The routine lasted for four days only to be interrupted on the fifth.

Nero woke up in the middle of the night to the sight of a figure sitting on his window.

He screamed, fell off the bed and nearly pissed himself.

“You’re loud, people are trying to sleep.” Selvas informed him from her perched position on his windowsill.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” He hissed, finally recognising her.

“To talk to you. I thought that would be obvious.” She noted, actually having the nerve to sound irritated at his questioning. 

“I mean, why didn’t you knock, like a normal fucking pers-”

“There’s something scary terrorising the farmers.” She interrupted, as if bored. “And I know between paying for Cain’s lessons and finding yourself a room, you’re getting low on crystals.”

Nero groundhis teeth. The woman was right.

“You and I are going to kill it.” She told him and without another word  leapt out of the window and into the street below.

“Best you get dressed.” Ember said, actually looking excited at the prospect of heading out. Well of course she did, she wasn’t going to be the one fighting the damn thing.

Nero packed his things and went off hunting.

It would have been a lie to say the hunt was uneventful, simply due to the fact that nothing in this place had the luxury of being called that. However it was not necessarily divergent enough from the norm to be noteworthy.

Something ugly, terrifying and probably diseased needed killing and after a few days of work and several acts of violence, he and Selvas were able to kill it.

The most notable thing wasn’t actually the monster but the changes Nero observed during the whole ordeal. He was faster, not by much, barely even noticeable, but faster nonetheless, and that was only from five days of training.

After that, there was a trip back home and a sadistic old hag waiting there for him. Then of course came the daily Light Breathing training.Every several days, Selvas would find a new way to break into Nero’s home and inform him of an excitingly inventive new way he could get killed.A few times they had even ended up visiting the other towns over. They were horrible, just like Stradale. Nero didn’t know why he was disappointed by that, maybe he had expected Stradale to be better, or perhaps worse than the norm. Either way those dreams were soon dashed.At the end of the second month of his routine, Nero had learnt how to keep his Light Breathing going for longer, from ten seconds to thirty to be exact, although that varied based on how intensely he made it burn. But all efforts to project it outwards as a ranged offence had only won him disappointment.

However, he did achieve something.

“Ow!” Cain grunted, stumbling backwards and clutching her face. Her bruised face. 

“Nero!” Ember chirped. “You did it!”

He looked at the practice sword responsible for landing the hit. It was a properly weighted thing, as Cain had begrudgingly admitted that he had learned enough to graduate from sticks on week number two.“I… I hit you.” He whispered, barely able to believe it himself. He’d grown to think it would never actually happen.

“Yeah, yeah, it only took you twice the amount of time it should have.” Cain huffed.Nero glared. “That’s because I spent half the days I could have used to learn hunting twenty eyed horrors just to afford your fucking lessons.”

Cain smiled brightly as if she were some sage sitting high atop a mountain. “And for that you are welcome.”

Nero growled, he actually heard himself growl. Then he drew in a sharp long breath and rolled his neck. “You know what, this is a good day, and you can’t take that away from me, despite how much you’re clearly trying to.”

He turned and without another word walked towards the town.

“She’s funny.” Ember hummed.

“I seem to notice a pattern of you having quite a fondness for people I find utterly infuriating.” Nero observed.

Ember only grinned, zipping about his head like some firefly. “What can I say, I have great taste and you… well, don’t.”

Nero sniffed, suppressing a grin.

The walk back gave him quite a lot of time to think, and he used that well, to reflect on what he’d been able to achieve today and what he’d been able to achieve since.

Cain was not half as horrible a teacher as she was a person, and it turned out her vigorous physical training was not put in place with the sole intent of torturing him.

He was stronger and tougher now, significantly so, though not exponentially, speed however, that one he could feel the marked increase in it and was certain it wasn’t just all in his head given that he had begun tracking his speed increase since the moment he began noticing a difference. Before it took him two minutes to run a mile, and now he could do so in just under one and a half. It wasn’t a maddening increase like he would have hoped, but it was still something, and something, however little could mean the difference between Life and Death in this place.

On top of that, the increase in movement speed it seemed had also improved his reaction time. Those two things weren’t exactly linked back on earth, but it seemed they were in terms of Might.

The same way speed, toughness and strength are linked in physics, but they aren’t in terms of Might.

He’d also gained muscles on top of his Might and while his observations told him it was an insignificant additive boost to his Might, he still liked the physique it got him; he now very much appreciated the tone and definition that his body was gaining.

It wasn’t long before his walk brought him to Stradale, it hadn’t changed much in two months and Nero found himself actually relieved at that. Knowing who was in charge and how much worse they could make it on a whim, in some sick twisted way, made him appreciate the maintenance of the baseline horror he had come to expect in the town.

What did that say of him? Probably nothing nice.

It was still in the earliest moments of the morning, and most people hadn’t even gotten up yet. In fact the only reason why he was in the town was to get something to eat before he went back out to practise his Light Breathing.

There was a crash, the sound of breaking glass, and it came from a building Nero recognised well. Gunther’s. He heard the man’s voice, but it was subdued, shouted over by what sounded like a roar.

**************************************************************

Gunther came out of the shop stumbling, tripped on a rock and landed painfully on his face. He was a haggered thing, clothes torn, skinned bruise and eyes tight with anguish.

Nero was on the verge of calling out to him when a second figure emerged from the shop. This one was big, broad and with a runed weapon by his hip. A town guard. 

Instinctively he slid behind a wall and obscured himself.

The guard circled the smaller man, eyes like a cat toying with a mouse. “I’m going to ask you again-” He began, but Gunter cut him off.

“And I’m going to tell you the same fucking thing!” He coughed. “I don’t have your fucking tax money, it’s a nasty side effect of having my shop wrecked.”

“You think this is a joke?”

“A joke would be you thinking you have any power to change the laws of supply and demand just because you have a pointy bit of metal.” Gunther snapped, and Nero winced before the hit came.

It didn’t make it any less easy to witness, the guard cracked a kick into Gunther’s gut and the potion master emptied the contents of his stomach onto the dirt with a violent hurl.

Nero looked away before the assault began, instead he only heard it. The dull heavy thudding of a body being hit and the sound of Ember gasping right after every impact was enough to paint a visceral picture of everything that was happening.

When it stopped, Nero opened his eyes to see a heaving Gunther on the ground. He was alive, bleeding from several cuts and bruises but alive nonetheless. He breathed a sigh of relief, then watched the guard spit on the helpless man and leave.

He was jogging towards the healer in moments. “Gunther.” He called out.

“Leave me alone.” The mean croaked.

With motions of agony, Gunther crawled up to his knees. He pressed his palm methodically around his body, likely looking for injuries and wincing when he found a particularly bad one. 

His eyes stared ahead into a cold emptiness, like a man who’d lost all reason to keep going.

“Gunther.” Nero called out again. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.” He whispered as he got to shaky feet.

“The shop- how is it, what did he d-”

“I said I’m fine!” The man battered Nero’s words back into his mouth. His eyes were pools of fury now. “Now is not the time for me to manage your guilt, yes, you’re the reason why this happened and no you can’t change it, the best you can do is leave me alone when I ask you to!”

Nero actually flinched at his words and then his eyes were staring at his feet. When he looked up, the man’s eyes were filled with regret. 

“I… I’m sorry lad. I didn’t mean to say that.” Gunther drew in a shaky breath, the signs of a man barely holding it together. Tears began to spill past the rims of his eye lids and without another word, he turned and made his way for his shop.

Nero began marching through the streets. His heart was racing, fists curled and eyes hot with rage. He hadn’t even thought about it, but knew where he was going, who he was looking for.

“What are you doing?” Ember asked, voice pitched with concern.

“I’m going to hurt that guard very fucking horribly and then I’m going to make sure he never touches Gunther again.” He told her.

He didn’t know how his eyes looked, but within them must have been something terrible because Ember failed to look at him. “Nero, think about what you’re doing.”

“I already did.” He told her calmly. “That guard’s name is Bently, I know all their names, I mean, there’s only ten of them. And he’s at the end of his shift, so what he’s going to be doing after this is heading over to see his mistress, he likes to go through the back of the town so he’s not seen, no one ever goes through there this early.”

Ember’s face was tight with a mix of horror and realisation. While mapping the routes of the guards, he had told her it was something he was merely doing out of boredom and not that it was being done in preparation for the day he needed to attack one.

Well both would be false, he’d done so because he never knew if he might need it or not. Today, it seemed he did.There was silence as Nero followed Bently, not even the sound of Ember’s voice rang through the air. He kept a good distance behind the bastard, making turns long after his target had made them. There was no need to be quick, he already knew where the man was going.

Soon enough, save from a pile of rubble to the side, the two of them were the only ones in the alleyway.

He couldn’t risk having his face seen, so he’d have to be smart about it. He’d have to move in quickly and effectively. Stradale’s guards were all Mighty, not as strong as Selvas, he thought, but superhumans and trained to fight. 

It was now or never.

There was a tightness in his chest for a long moment, he was hesitating. He shouldn’t do it, it was too risky, too dangerous. All of those thoughts vanished at the memory of Gunther’s broken body and Nero was dashing at the guard like lightning.

He was faster now, so he’d reached the man just as his head had begun to turn around. He was stronger too so it was barely any effort to slam his face against the wall and pin him there.

Bently tried to scream but Nero shoved his face harder against the wall to muffle it, twisting the jaw down and compressing his windpipe. The man was panicking and he had the feeble struggles to prove it.“Make one more noise and I’ll kill you.” Nero said with a voice that wasn’t his. This one was all gravelly and coarse but more than enough to get the message across. The man was quiet as death soon enough.

“Good.” Nero approved.“I… I don’t have any crystals.” The man began quickly.

“Good, well neither does Gunther.” Nero replied.

He could practically feel the realisation of why he was  there sink into Bently with how slack his body went. “”I was just doing my job.” He protested.

“Harm him again and I’ll make sure that’s the last time you ever walk.” As far as threats went it was rather gruesome and Nero wasn’t sure whether he was lying or not. Bently clearly believed him and that was what mattered.“Alright, alright, just… just let me go.” The man begged with a shaky voice.Nero slammed his fistagainst the back of the man’s skull and felt his body go limp. He set the unconscious guard down on his back.His hands were shaking, he realised, animated with adrenaline. What he’d done was stupid, risky and incredibly impulsive. But he’d gotten away with it.He turned to see the pile of rubble behind him shift. 

Nero’s eyes narrowed. Seconds past and then the rubble exploded outwards as a figure emerged from underneath it.

Dust clouded the air and obscured their features. All Nero could make out was the sight of a person racing towards the end of the alleway.A person who’d seen what he’d done to a guard.A person who was now mere metres from emerging into the town.

Nero’s feet were moving before he could think to tell them to. His body was tearing through the air like javelin. He was doing everything to catch the witness before they were in view of the entire town and it still wasn’t enough. They must have been Mighty.

Despite his months of training, he was just too slow.His life flashed before his eyes, images of Mercury and death sunk into his heart. 

He had to do something, and yet the only thing that came to mind was a fool’s hope. 

He might not be able to reach his target, but he could shoot him. The only problem was, Nero still hadn’t learnt how to use ranged Light Breathing.

Well, there’s never a bad time to train.

He brought his light to bear around his palm, pointed it forwards and like always, focused his will on projecting it outwards. 

Nero could feel his hold on it slipping, feel the light breaking apart, already in the first stages of explosion. He resisted the urge to close his eyes and brace for impact, he had to see this through, there was no other choice.

Come on, come on you bastard, listen to me for once!The light leapt from his fingers, shot through the space between them and slammed into the stranger’s back. It took them off their feet and into the air and when they met the ground it was with a bounce and a roll.

Holy shit, holy shit, holy shit.

He’d done it, he’d fucking done it. Only took him two months but fuck it if it wasn’t worth the time and effort.

He jogged the rest of the way there and found his heart drop at what he saw when he reached the man.

He knew who this was. He was one of the first people he’d met in this town, and it was a meeting that he preferred not to think about.

Tommy let out soft sounds of agony as he laid there, clutching his side painfully while holding a face twisted in anguish. With a gaze up at Nero, that anguish evaporated into horror and realisation. “Please don’t hurt me, I didn’t see anything, I won’t tell anyone what you are.”

And like that Nero was certain the man knew everything he had wished he didn’t. It made his heart burn and his stomach churn.  How had he seen him? Tommy must have caught sight of Nero’s magic as he turned to make the corner. “Why were you here?” He asked, forcing himself calm, it didn’t make any sense, no one was ever here.

Tommy looked over to the unconscious guard and hesitated before speaking. “I… I was here for him.”

Nero frowned for a moment before realisation hit him. “Trying to mug him. You figured out this was his route too and it was just my fucking luck that you decided to when I chose to do something incredibly stupid as well.”

He looked down at the man, saw the terror etch itself ever deeper into his face with every passing moment. He knew Nero was a Light Breather and they both knew what would happen to him if this ever got out.

Tommy’s voice was a low whisper now. “I didn’t see anything, I won’t tell anyone.”

“Yes you will.” Nero told him. “You know what I am, you know what I’m worth and you’re an addict who’s going through a case of withdrawal so bad that he’s willing to try and mug a guard to get his fix, an act which would almost surely end quite grizzly for you. I could threaten to chop off your balls and that wouldn’t be enough to keep your mouth shut, sooner rather than later, you’re going to tell someone who’s willing to pay for the secret about the mysterious stranger.”

It was the truth, he didn’t know whether or not Tommy agreed, the man didn’t speak, so petrified that his lips seemed preternaturally sealed. His eyes spoke though, they begged him. ‘You don’t have to do this,’ they said, but they were wrong, they were so, so wrong.

He was torn, but he often found himself torn lately, being torn was just a side effect of making decisions. It was the decisions themselves that made a person.

Nero made his decision.

He got to his feet and with slow steady steps began walking. He’d have to move quickly, people would be out and about soon, which would make hiding that much harder. Then there’d be the guards, they’d come for him soon, it was simply a matter of time.

He couldn’t pack anything, couldn’t risk it, all he could do was rely on the skills he gained in the two months he’d lived here.

“Where are you going?” Tommy asked, voice tight.

It probably wasn’t wise to answer, but Nero did so anyways, to solidify his decision. “I’m leaving Stradale.”