Chapter 7, To Wash off One's Crimes, To Clean One's Conscious
Chapter 7, To Wash off One's Crimes, To Clean One's Conscious
-Heres the showers. Be quick, but be thorough. Theres shampoo and conditioner over there. The showers were of the several kind. The floor was covered in beige tiles and rust-bitten chalk. Although Kreig no longer knew how to use shampoo or conditioner, he went over and grabbed two bottles anyways.
And then, he took a shower. Let the warm water wash over him rhythmically. Wash off the grime and dirt that had stuck to him like muddy memories of the past. Fifty years. The blood in his hair, the dirt in the grooves of his rigid body He had to scrub at a few parts to really get it off, and when he used the shampoo to remove smells as well He had never felt cleaner. Not in 130 years. Like a newly-born baby, warm and safe and good. The tension in his muscles seemed to melt off and seep down into the drain. Gone.
And when he stepped out of the shower, dried off on a towel officer Jenkins had reluctantly handed him, dressed up in the clean jumpsuit
He was new. Fresh.
As if everything that had happened was just gone. It wasnt gone, he knew that, but all of a sudden it sure felt like it had.
The interrogating offer took a look at his watch and noted that they would arrive shortly. Kreig nodded, almost completely out of it. For some reason, he really just wanted to lie down. This new clothing felt light. Light and comfortable. Sleeping would probably feel nice. Since he had Warriors Breath, the evolved version of the skill Stamina, he no longer needed sleep. But even then, that didnt mean he couldnt sleep at all.
And right now he really wanted to.
He was led through the halls again, through winding corridors and doors that he had to hunch to go through. And, finally, he was outside again. He liked seeing the sky. It was blue, and he really liked that. And in the middle of that blue, blue sky, something approached.
It hummed like the melody of a massive cricket. A helicopter. Thats what it was. Rather large, too. As soon as it came close enough to the ground, a man wearing a full set of plate-armour jumped out of it, landing with a clang and a rustle. He flicked the visor of his helmet open, revealing the face of a rather young, gravely confident man. His eyes landed on Kreig before turning to meet the interrogating officer. -This the guy, sergeant?
Human, Level 343
The interrogating officer didnt hesitate to hand Kreig over to who Kreig could only assume to be a Fighter of high class. After all, though his level wasnt much when compared to Great Beasts like Wyverns or even Two-Legged Drakes, compared to almost every other human, he had a rather robust level. The man accepted Kreig, and somehow, he didnt seem frightened in the least.
He looked like a man posing with a tiger, full of vapid confidence.
Soon, several other Fighters with levels above 100 (though nobody in the 300 range) stepped out of the helicopter, likely to escort Kreig wherever they were going. Why, Kreig hadnt felt this important since there was an international manhunt out for his head.
The 300-levelled Fighter handed Kreig over to another Fighter who led him onto the loud helicopter while he went over to chat with the interrogating officer. Apparently, going by what Kreig could hear, it was mostly a brief summary of who Kreig was, what not to do and who to hand him to once they got to the Other Island, whatever that was. After hearing the interrogating officer (or, as the 300-levelled Fighter called him, sergeant) say for the third time that messing with Kreig would be a death sentence, Kreig couldnt bother listening to it anymore and brought his focus back on the helicopter.
It was very high-tech. Filled with things on the walls and people with big guns and soldiers and, most importantly, 100+ levelled Fighters. Was he really that important? Possibly. Though, since he had no intention on being a bother, it really wasnt needed.
They guided him to sit in a seat fastened to the wall, and the second he did, they chained his specially strengthened cuffs to the ground. He didnt mind much, but he really would have liked some freedom. Not holding his sword or shield He felt naked. Hung out. Empty. He was confident in his hand-to-hand skills, but as a paladin, his greatest strength always laid in his use of a sword and shield.
The 300-levelled Fighter said goodbye to the Sergeant (?), entered the helicopter and shouted for the pilot to lift off. Then he strode up to Kraig and sat down in the empty seat right next to him.
Hi there. Big guy. Fella down there told me your name is Kreig? he said, leaning in far closer than Kreig was comfortable with. Even then, he didnt respond. For some reason, he felt like responding to that question would only make the situation worse. Not that it wasnt already bad. The last time hed been this high up in the air was when hed hopped on that arrogant dragons back while it took to flight It is, isnt it? See, the funny thing is, my name is actually Craig! So, there can only be one. Ysee where Im going with this?
Now Kreig turned to Craig. He had strangled people before. If he didnt put that much strength in, he could surely restrain himself from snapping the guys neck.
Hey, hey! It was a joke! Geez, you really dont have a sense of humour, huh? See, the sergeant went and told me not to stir up anything with you since youre some sort of dangerous guy, but you really dont look like it. Honestly, you look like the kind of guy whod go around spouting about the power of friendship, hah! Craig babbled. Kreig could feel himself being lulled to sleep by the drone of Craigs loud, grating voice.
Um, Craig, maybe you shouldnt tease it? a cloak-clad girl sitting just across Kreig and Craig said, hunching her back shyly. Kraig agreed fully. He didnt like being teased.
Huh? Nah, nah! We got two hours of flight! If I dont get to tase someone Ill just pick a fight instead! Craig said, ending his little statement with a throaty laugh, the kind youd expect from a larger man than Craig. Hey, Mr Big-And-Scary, wouldnt you like to hear what happened to your equipment? Now that got Kreigs attention. -Thought so! See, they got a bunch of guys in there, but nobody could lift the thing. Not even a glove! So theyre gonna get a bunch of high-level Fighters to lift it, but even then they doubt theyll be able to get it far.
...Alright. As long as Kreig would be able to make use of them again, he was happy. Well, maybe not make use of, more like see. After all, hopefully, he wouldnt need his armour any longer. He just wanted it for nostalgic purposes.
Ah, but they might also try to melt it down to see what its made of. The sheer amount of killing intent that exploded from Kreig in that moment was enough to make even Craig a bit woozy. N-, not that theyll actually do it! Theyre just considering it! Relax, dude!
After a few seconds of calming himself down, Kreig was indeed able to relax.
Gee. Im not sure if youre fun to talk to or not. Like, you barely react. Or, I mean, you do react, but not by speaking. Mighty uncool of you.
Maybe if he ignored Craig hed stop talking.
...Do you think Ill stop talking if you keep ignoring me? Ohohohoh, not so! As my mother can attest to, that is not the case, not at all!
Shoot.
Two hours of this. The duration of which Craig spent 90% talking. Talking and talking and talking. Kreig just wanted to bury his face in his hands, but if he made such a movement hed snap his chains and be a bother to everyone. So, all he could do was sit wide-legged and stare out of the window on the other side of the helicopter. Watch how the land turned to sea until, after two hours, he could see land again.
It was a little splotch of grey. Just a grey island, like a large fortress. It wasnt that big once they got close to it, hardly larger than the Royal Palace of the Empire or even the Grand Dom of the theocracy.
...Still, it was their destination.
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