Mastery Is Earned

Henk carved a deep gash across a fishfolk’s face, then sent it flying with a kick. He drove his sword straight through another fishfolk’s face, but even that was not enough. Pinning its head down, he wrenched his hand-and-a-half sword free with brutal force.

*Yes. This is the feeling.*

Heat stirred inside him, and the entire world seemed tinged crimson. Henk had always kept himself under tight control. He was quiet and poor with words. Only in the midst of battle and slaughter did he truly feel alive.

The spray of blood, the piercing screams, and the sight of just how fragile life could be always set his blood racing with excitement.

Slaughter... Battle...

Yes. This was it. This was what life was truly meant to be!

Henk began to laugh. His laughter grew louder and louder as he savagely attacked the other fishfolk.

One fell to a single stroke of his sword, and he followed through by crushing its skull beneath his boot. Another leaped at him, but he caught it by the neck with his empty left hand and snapped its neck with a sharp twist.

Henk had turned the battle against the fishfolk into a bloody feast. Each one died differently, but every death was equally gruesome and horrifying.

The fishfolk that had been attacking Henk and the others began to shrink back, too frightened by his brutality to approach.

Even Bram and his companions, who had been fighting fiercely moments before, stared at Henk in shock. Their movements gradually slowed, and without realizing it, the three drew closer together.

“Gurli gurli gala wawa!”

The fishfolk suddenly erupted into commotion. Another group came rushing from nearby, led by one that looked completely different from the rest.

It stood nearly six feet tall. Unlike the hunched fishfolk around it, it held itself unusually upright. Its body remained lean, but the muscles across its shoulders, back, abdomen, and thighs were firm and full. Dark blue-black scales covered its body, and its dorsal fin was taller and more complete than those of ordinary fishfolk.

A necklace strung with shells, teeth, and human coins hung around its neck. In its hands was a short-handled, barbed harpoon. There was a depth and ferocity in its gaze that the others lacked.

Two or three dozen fishfolk followed close behind it, bearing down on Henk’s group.

“Henk! Watch out! That’s the fishfolk leader!” Bram shouted.

*The fishfolk leader?*

Henk looked at it eagerly and charged straight toward it without the slightest fear.

*Three whole gold coins. I have to kill it with my own hands. No one else gets to take it from me. No one!*

The fishfolk leader roared when it saw him coming and charged to meet him. It was not fighting alone. Many other fishfolk crowded around it and rushed at Henk without fear of death.

Henk cut one of them in half with a single stroke, but another darted in low while he was distracted and drove its weapon into his thigh, which was protected by nothing more than a pair of worn breeches.

Henk frowned and sent the creature flying several yards with a kick. It slammed heavily into the ground nearby.

While the other fishfolk kept Henk occupied, their leader thrust its harpoon precisely at the hand-and-a-half sword in his grip. The harpoon’s two prongs caught the blade and held it fast. The other fishfolk seized the opportunity to hammer at Henk’s sword hand with their assorted weapons.

Henk was forced to let go. The leader caught his sword between the prongs of its harpoon and flung it aside. Baring a mouthful of sharp teeth in a vicious grin, it drew back the harpoon and thrust at him.

Henk was unarmed, and the other fishfolk were still attacking his legs. Yet despite the rage consuming him, his mind remained unexpectedly clear. Their attacks had suddenly become coordinated and disciplined, obviously because of the leader. If he wanted to deal with the group, he had to kill it first.

Without hesitation, Henk caught the harpoon in both hands. Even when its point pierced his leather bracer and tore into his right hand, not a trace of fear crossed his face.

The pain only fed the bloodlust inside him. He tightened his grip, lifted the fishfolk leader off the ground by the harpoon, and began to spin with all his strength.

Love this story? Find the genuine version on the author’s preferred platform and support their work!

Still clinging to the weapon with both hands, the leader whirled around Henk like a top. Its legs flew outward and knocked away every fishfolk surrounding him.

The leader had no choice but to release the harpoon. Momentum sent it crashing hard into the ground, but it quickly scrambled back to its feet. Opening its sharp-toothed maw, it charged at Henk once more.

Henk gave a cruel grin, tossed the harpoon aside, and rushed to meet it.

The fishfolk leader bent its legs and leaped. It struck Henk like a cannonball and knocked him flat, then opened its jaws and lunged for his throat.

Henk reacted quickly, raising his left arm to block the bite. The leader’s teeth sank into his leather bracer.

While it was still clamped onto his arm, Henk drove his right fist into its head. The blow left it dazed and barely conscious.

He did not waste the hard-won opening. Henk threw his weight onto the leader and seized the upper and lower halves of its mouth with both hands.

The muscles in his arms bulged as he pulled. The sound of its jaw tearing mingled with the leader’s screams, followed by a sharp crack as Henk ripped its entire lower jaw away.

Henk snorted and rose from its body. The leader lay convulsing as blood poured from the wound, completely incapable of resisting.

The fishfolk still fighting the other half-orcs, along with those preparing to attack Henk, shrieked at the sight of their leader’s brutal death. All desire to resist vanished. One after another, they plunged into the water and fled.

“Hah... Hah...”

Henk tried to steady his breathing, but he could not suppress the fury inside him. The battle was over, yet the urge to fight still raged through him. He wanted to tear apart anything that stood in his way.

“H-Henk, are you all right?” Mara asked hesitantly.

Henk turned. The three half-orcs stood shoulder to shoulder a short distance away. A bloodthirsty red gleam burned in his eyes, as though he were on the verge of flying into a rage. The sight made Mara and the others recoil in alarm.

*Three half-orcs? All three of them must be worthy opponents! If I kill them, I’ll earn even more bounty. All that money will be mine!*

Henk licked his lips, tossed away the severed jaw in his hand, and slowly approached them with clenched fists.

“Ber... Berserker!” Mara cried.

Bram was startled by the word, but one look at Henk’s blood-crazed state made him tighten his grip on his weapon and shout a warning. “Henk! Don’t come any closer!”

Only then did Henk freeze. After standing there in a daze for a moment, he dropped heavily onto the beach and began gasping for breath. Between breaths, he asked Mara, “You just said ‘Berserker.’ What’s a Berserker?”

“I’ve only heard other half-orcs talk about them. They say some orcs are born warriors known as Berserkers.” Mara hesitated before continuing. “Supposedly, they enter a state of rage during battle. It sounds a lot like what just happened to you.”

“Is that so...” Henk looked down at his hands, then swept his gaze across the devastation around him. Drawing a deep breath, he turned to Bram. “The fishfolk have fled into the lake. We can’t keep them occupied anymore. Sound the retreat horn so Raymond knows to get out.”

“We should sound it,” Bram agreed with a nod. Instead of reaching for the horn, however, he looked at Henk. “But are you all right?”

“I’m fine. I can manage.” Henk forced himself to his feet, but his body swayed slightly. He was clearly in poor condition. Spotting his hand-and-a-half sword where it had been thrown, he dragged himself over and picked it up.

Bram and Ned exchanged a glance but did not move. Bram gave Henk a meaningful look. “You won the wager. No one killed more than you, and you took down the fishfolk leader all by yourself.”

“We can settle the wager later. Sound the horn and signal them first,” Henk said with a frown.

“Right. Normally, that’s exactly what I should do.” Bram chuckled. “But what if I don’t feel like it?”

“What do you mean?” Henk asked warily.

“I think your good friend has problems of his own right now, Henk.” Bram pointed in the direction of Brightwater. “Before we left, someone paid us to kill both of you. Paid us very well, too.”

“Money? What money?” Mara asked, utterly confused.

“Oh? Is that so?” Henk sneered. Straightening his back, he held the hand-and-a-half sword across his waist and stared coldly at Bram.

Bram shrugged. “I took the money, but I don’t want to hurt you. Your friend, on the other hand, probably won’t be so lucky.”

“You don’t want to hurt me? Why?”

“It’s simple. We’re all half-orcs. We’re kin,” Bram said seriously. “Come with us. The four of us can go wherever we want. You don’t need to stay with humans anymore. Half-orcs should look after one another!”

“And if I refuse?” Henk’s voice was empty of emotion.

“Even if you refuse, your friend is as good as dead.” Bram gave a low laugh. “Everyone around him has been bought. The moment they find the cargo, they’ll all attack at once. Your friend doesn’t stand a chance. Understand? That’s what humans are like. Treacherous, shameless creatures.”

Alarm surged through Henk. He knew Raymond needed help now more than ever.

He tried to turn and run, but weakness flooded his body and nearly made his legs buckle.

*Damn it!*

It was happening again. Every time the rage left him, he fell into this weakened state. He normally calmed himself only once he was safe, but he had never expected these supposed companions to suddenly turn on them.

“Look at the state you’re in. You’d better stay put. Forget about your friend and come with us. Would that really be so bad?” Ned said.

“I have to save him,” Henk replied firmly.

“I’m afraid I can’t allow that, Henk.” Bram’s voice was calm. “You can barely stand. Do you really think you’ll be any help? Besides, I’m not going to let you simply walk away.”

“So choose, Henk,” Ned said coldly, tightening his grip on his hammer. “Are you coming with us or not?”

“He’s my friend.” That was Henk’s answer.

“We’re your kin!” Bram raised his voice.

Henk shook his head. “We happen to be half-orcs. That’s all. Now I’m going to save my friend.”

Bram’s patience ran out, and his voice turned cold. “So that’s your answer? You’re betraying your own people for a human? Betraying your own kind? Spend enough time with humans and you start thinking you’re one of them. Is that it?”

Henk said nothing more. He merely tightened his grip on his weapon and looked at the three half-orcs before him.

Bram and Ned gripped their weapons, hostility plain on their faces. Mara looked bewildered. She clearly had no idea what was happening. Her gaze moved from Henk to Bram and Ned, uncertainty written across her face.

**“You’ll die because of him.”**

**“No.” Henk tightened his grip on the hand-and-a-half sword. “The three of you will die because of him too.”**