Page 57 of The Freedom You Seek
Giving in to the fury boiling inside of me, I allowed the monster to come to the surface, let the part of me out to play that was dark and twisted, and I could tell that the farmers felt the shift.
I relished the unease entering the eyes of my opponents as wisps of darkness caressed my skin with gentle motions. All the restraints I normally placed on myself fell away, and I basked in the sensations this freedom gave to me.
Feeling the power crackling under my skin, sensing it coursing through my veins, knowing that my eyes turnedblack as night—how I had missed it. Now that I wasn’t holding back, I could almost recognize myself again.
The man—no, theboyholding the horses—I internally dubbed him Farmhand—called over, “Hurry up and get it over with. He isn’t even armed.” He was playing brave, although the fear that had crept into his expression gave him away and was already morphing into horror.
A forced sigh escaped me as the farmers agreed with the youngling and drew their weapons, but I could tell that it cost them to keep up their bravado.
Farmer One shook and almost lost the sword he was wielding because of it, and I got the impression from Farmer Two that the greatest battle he had to fight was the one against his bladder. One he’d already lost, judging by the fabric that darkened between his legs. Well, it wouldn’t be the only fight he would lose today.
Both men jerked their heads around back to where they came from, and I was certain that at least one of them would try to run away. However, Farmer Three was the only one who still showed an ounce of determination. Not that it would help him.
“Any last wishes, Cantor?”
“Only one. I wish you were more of a challenge.” Urged on by some dark force in my mind, I pulled at my magic and materialized my favorite type of sword—and weapon of choice—and welcomed it like an old friend.
The blade was slightly larger than those typically wielded in one hand and darker than pitch. It was made of the same material as the midnight dagger I’d crafted for Nayana, but since this one was only an extension of myselfand not meant to last, I could summon it faster than others could draw their weapons.
Of course, none of those hinterland men had ever seen a magical blade of darkness that appeared out of nothing, and I made good use of the seconds they stared at it. Jumping in front of Farmhand, I severed his head from his neck with a single clean swipe as the horses recoiled and fled. Too simple.
Slowly turning around, I was greeted by shocked expressions I couldn’t help but savor. My attention turned to Farmer Three—the most despicable of the remaining trio—and, coaxing some more magic free, I built a small bubble of impenetrable darkness around him. This man had threatened Nayana with rape, and I was a spiteful asshole with too much power at my disposal—Fig’s words, not mine. A quick death would be too generous to satisfy the hatred that poured into my body with every beat of my heart, and I planned to take my time with him later. His pained cry told me he’d tried to escape his temporary prison and hurt himself in the process.Good.
Without hesitation, I whirled around my own axis, and in the blink of an eye, I was in front of Farmer One. My sword clashed against his poor excuse of a blade so hard I could hear his teeth clank and his bones rattle, and my opponent’s weapon snapped cleanly in half.
“Underworld spawn!” He barely dodged my next lazy swing—I’d wanted him to think he was fast enough, so I held back, and still, he almost ended up cut in two.
Amused, I flashed him my teeth in a grin and chuckled. It was so predictable how peopleexplained what they didn’t understand with religious allegories, no matter how wrong they were, and I couldn’t do anything but laugh every time it happened. “Not quite. But feel free to call me a god. You wouldn’t be the first one.”
I was done holding back, now allowing the inferno in my blood to fuel me, and with a clean strike, I drove my blade into Farmer Two’s chest, who thought he could not only sneak up on me but also stab me with the dagger he was wielding.
Even without taking my eyes off Farmer One, my blade hit true, and my attacker crumpled to the ground.
Bored already, I struck Farmer One in the same way, letting him fall to bleed out. So far, not even my breath had picked up. Pathetic.
But I’d saved the best for last: It was time for Farmer Three to pay the price for his earlier threats against Nayana and my comrades.
I willed the prison of darkness around him to disappear and savored the horror revealed in his eyes, which was soon joined by shock and panic as he spotted his fallen and dying companions. He reacted exactly as I’d thought he would, which was no surprise: the likes of him were usually predictable. His shoes kicked up loose dirt as he scrambled and ran away.
But I wasn’t having it. I considered myself a monster, but at least I was one with my own moral compass. And assaulting females, or even threatening to do so, made it to the top of my list of punishable crimes.
So I sent thin ribbons of shadows after him, which curled all around his body and solidified, stopping hisescape attempt with ease. I sauntered toward him, still radiating the deadly air of danger I wasn’t bothering to smother.
“Tell me, farmer.” I stopped directly in front of him, basking in the music of his panicked breaths. My shadows weren’t hurting him, merely holding his body in place, and if that was already too much for him, he wouldn’t like what his immediate future had in store for him. Studying him like a strange insect on the wall, I canted my head. “How often have you taken females against their will?”
“Ne…never.”
“Lie. Try that again, and I’ll show you what true suffering is.” Which was my plan anyway, but he didn’t have to know it just yet.
“It…it isn’t forcing be—because it’s my wife.”
Kill.
I took in a sharp breath. Narrowing my eyes, I manifested additional black cords around him, altering their surface until they were razor-sharp. “Guess I’ll do yourfuture widowa big favor.” I couldn’t help but smile, the one that witnesses had called unhinged or deranged before. They wouldn’t like to see me if I’d truly lose it—even I wasn’t sure that I wanted to.
Kill.
The man pleaded, but I slowly tightened the shadow cords around him with vengeance in my heart and wildness in my eyes. Farmer Three screamed as soon as they worked their way through his threadbare clothes and pricked into his skin. His pleading turned to painful whimpering as his prison of thin, cutting shadows slowlygradually contracted, becoming tighter and smaller, tearing through flesh and blood. All the hatred threatening to bury my rational side urged me on to utter carnage—to rip, to tear, to destroy.