The Regression Of A Grand Mercenary

After I butchered the boar, the savory aroma wafted through the air, filling our home with a warmth that had been absent for too long. As my family gathered around the table, their laughter and chatter enveloped me like a comforting embrace. It had been ages since we’d shared a proper meal, and seeing them eat to their hearts’ content ignited a flicker of joy within me.

“Thill, this is the best meal ever!” my youngest sister, Tilly, exclaimed, her cheeks stuffed with tender meat.

“Don’t forget to save some for everyone else, Tilly,” I chuckled, ruffling her hair playfully. The sight of her happy face reminded me of the simple pleasures in life, making my heart swell with a bittersweet pride.

After dinner, I lingered for a moment, watching them finish their meal. Their smiles, the light in their eyes—it was all the motivation I needed. I needed to regain my strength, not just for myself, but for them.

With a nod of farewell, I slipped away to the workshop, a sanctuary where metal and hammer would meet.

Taking a deep breath, I knelt on the cool dirt filled floor, feeling the weight of my resolve settle in my chest. Tonight, I would meditate—not merely to clear my mind, but to awaken the Pure Core that lay dormant within me.

“Awakening a core…” I murmured to myself, recalling the teachings of seasoned warriors I had met in my travels. “I need a strong body, a strong soul, a strong mind…and a sense of purpose.”

I sat cross-legged, my palms resting on my knees, and closed my eyes. The silence around me deepened, enveloping me like a shroud. I imagined a luminous orb nestled within my chest, pulsing softly with each breath I took.

Inhaling deeply, I envisioned the orb growing brighter, expanding with warmth, filling the void within me. It was as if I could sense the shadows of my self-doubt slowly retreating, replaced by a burgeoning confidence.

If any at all interference was made, my body would be destroyed.

This was a crucial moment.

As I delved deeper into meditation, memories surged to the forefront of my mind—flashes of my life as a mercenary, the thrill of the chase, the bonds I forged in the heat of battle. Each recollection was a reminder of the strength I once wielded, the warrior spirit that had driven me through countless trials.

‘Remember who you were….’ I urged myself, the mantra resonating within the chambers of my heart. ‘You are Thill Cicial…You are the Wind-crazed Orc Slayer’

The energy within me began to swirl like a tempest of sensation as I embraced the feelings fully. I felt the earth beneath me, the air filling my lungs, the very essence of life itself. This was the awakening I sought—a rekindling of the fire within.

In that moment of clarity, I realized that the journey to produce a Pure Core was not simply about strength. It was about understanding myself, embracing every trial and hardship, and harnessing the power that lay dormant inside me. I wouldn’t let my past define me any longer; I was not a coward hiding in the shadows.

With newfound determination, I pressed on in my meditation, willing the orb within me to awaken. I felt it pulse in response, a soft thrum against my ribcage. Tonight, I would take the first step toward reclaiming my strength, my purpose, and my place in this world.

As the minutes turned into hours, I began to feel the life of what it meant to carry power…

This was the feeling of a pure core…

‘Oh…the memories…the sensation…’

For a memory from the past, I felt it’s nostalgic touch in my chest…the beat of the pure core was settling in….

I have done it.

“…” when I opened my eyes, the sun had already risen.

And when I looked to my body, I had gained the pure core I once had…

This sensation of power…

‘Ahh….I really want to let it all out like the good old days.’

The thought of wanting to go berserk.

To go all out like a madman…

It was swirling inside of me like a twister…

“khe-khe…” I laughed like a villain…this was very much like me.

But soon enough, I decided to let this feeling go.

There are times when I can go mad…and there are times when I have to take responsibility…

Let the power simmer down…

For now, I have to be the brother that my siblings need right now.

***

As the first light of dawn stretched across the horizon, painting the sky in hues of orange and pink, I set off toward the village marketplace. The air was crisp and invigorating, a reminder that a new day held endless possibilities. Each step felt purposeful as I navigated the familiar cobblestone paths that led to the heart of our community.

The marketplace was alive with energy, a vibrant tapestry woven from the sounds of chatter, laughter, and the clinking of metal. Merchants had already begun to set up their stalls, showcasing their wares in a colorful display. I could already smell the sweet aroma of baked bread mingling with the earthy scent of fresh produce.

Rows of vendors greeted me with enthusiastic shouts, eager to attract customers. A stall overflowing with ripe fruits caught my eye—plump apples gleaming in the sun, their skin a rich red, while vibrant oranges and juicy berries added splashes of color to the scene. Nearby, another merchant boasted intricately woven garments, their fabrics shimmering in the gentle morning light like treasures from a distant land. Delicate jewelry sparkled with each ray of sunlight, enticing passersby with promises of beauty.

Yet, despite the bustling activity, my heart sank at the realization that no armor or weapons were on display. The lack of competition made me wonder if there was an opportunity waiting for me. My heart raced at the thought; perhaps I could sell my own crafted goods.

With determination, I approached a middle-aged merchant who appeared to embody the spirit of the marketplace. He had a rugged face, weathered by years spent under the sun, and his hands bore the marks of hard labor. His stall was modest, displaying a colorful array of fruits, neatly arranged in baskets that seemed to beckon with their freshness.

“Good morning!” I greeted him, mustering a smile to hide the apprehension stirring within. “I’m Thill Cicial, a blacksmith from the village. I was wondering if you might be interested in purchasing some weapons or armor.”

His eyes narrowed slightly, a mixture of curiosity and skepticism flickering in his gaze. “A blacksmith, you say? That’s rare around these parts. Most people go to the city for their weapons.”

“I understand,” I replied, my voice steady despite the uncertainty swirling inside. “But I craft high-quality swords and armor, made with care and precision. They’re built to withstand the tests of time, not just for show.”

“Hmm mind if I see one of your products then?” asked the old man.

As I showed him the sword that I was carrying on my waist, he was shocked to see such a finely crafted sword.

“Oh my, this is truly a great piece…what do you think is the value of such a sword?” he asked.

“Well, I’m confident of it’s quality, so in my own opinion, it’s probably around a hundred silver.” I said.

To us, the value of a single silver coin was worth a hundred cooper coins, and a hundred silver coins was worth a single gold coin. The worth of a single cooper coin was only that of a single piece of bread from a bakery.

“A single gold coin? You must be joking. Swords made of iron and simple wood will never reach to such a value. If you want to sell a weapon that is worth a gold coin, you need to craft a sword made of a monster’s bone at least…a simple iron sword like yours would ultimately reach maybe half of your original intent.” said the merchant as he was flabbergasted by the price.

“Really? 50 silver coins? But I can vouch for it’s quality though.” I said as I was denied by his words.

“Hmm, this may seem like a fine sword, that much I can see, but I am a simple merchant. I won’t take the risk of buying your sword simply because you, a young eager boy, said of it’s quality…if you want confirmation of its true price, you need to have at least the vouching words of a blacksmith from the city.”

“And besides, me and the other merchants here today are not in the proposition to buy a sword. We are simply here to exchange our goods. We are simply here for the coin. We do not have the expense to buy such a product.” he said.

Despite what he said, a young boy such as myself can never sell this sword to a merchant that easily. if I truly want to sell it at the value it has right now, I need to sell it directly to a blacksmith or a larger shop who knows of its true value.

Wandering merchants don’t have the coin to buy such an expensive product like my sword.

It was here that I realize I need to go to the city.

***

“What did you say?”

“I said that I’m going to the city.” I said.

“Why?” she asked.

“To sell the swords to a better and bigger market. The merchants that come to our village don’t have the budget to spend on my sword.”

“Eh…Hmm, your swords are pretty expensive. I mean, a single gold coin? Who has that much money to buy your sword here in the village? If you want, you can just push down the price a little.”

“That won’t do. I know the value of my swords. I won’t sell it for any less.” I said.

“Hmm…but the city is pretty far from here. It’ll take you at least an entire day just to get there on a carriage.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll be back as soon as possible.”

“…but you do know that we don’t have a horse right?” she said.

“I’ll find some way to get their fast. Trust me.”

***

It was a risky ordeal…

But I have to make money somehow.

From what I remembered, the reason why we left the village in the first place was because it was taken over by a band of bandits. My brothers and sisters were lucky enough to run away while the bandits were busy taking over the houses one by one…

That day…the day we lost our house, I couldn’t help but point all my anger towards the bandits…

But my anger did nothing to help my siblings.

From then on, we decided to move to the city to find some sort of opportunity, but it didn’t take even a month before we started living in the slums.

Each day we went hungry…

Each day in the slums was more dangerous than anything…

I was weak…

Incompetent…

And one by one, my siblings went through pain that I could not bear to witness…

Before long, the city took each of their lives…and no one batted an eye.

From then on, I was the only one left alive…

I couldn’t do anything then…so I decided to take revenge on the world…

I decided to paint the world a bit of red…

Soon, after a few years went by, my name was heard as a fairy tale to the children wanting to achieve greatness and as a nightmare to those who had sinned vicously…and the trail of red I left behind was the evidence of my own promise and anger.

It was my curse to the world.

For each bandit that came my way, I declined giving them mercy.

There was no bandit in the world that didn’t know my name.

Even now…my hate towards the bandits are still intact. Bandits don’t change.

Their greedy, tricky and sly like a snake. They’ll do anything all for the sake of their own wants and needs.

Although I said to my sister that I would go to the City straight away, I took it upon myself in taking a detour.

As of now, there was only one part of the forest close enough to the village that is huddled with those bastards.

I’ll take it upon myself to kill them before they’ll make a move and take my home again.

Today, once again, I’ll start painting the world red…a little at a time.

***

In a shady part of the forest, about three dozen men were found resting under the shades of the trees.

One tree in particular was ten times larger than the others. And this tree held the tent of a single man who had a hook for a hand.

“256…257…258…259…260…darn, only this much?” he complained as he was counting the stack of silver coins that was on his table.

Recently, they had just ambushed a passing merchant, and to their surprise, this was the only bounty they came upon.

Feeling annoyed, he turned to the other men who were resting about.

And then he turned to the barrels of booze stacked near the cliff side.

Lastly, he turned to the five cages that were holding on to a dozen women…women who were seen quite bruised and traumatized.

He smiled at the sight of them like the grievous bastard that he was.

“Oh well, I guess I’ll just release all of this stress on them later tonight.” he said as he smirked with such a lustful expression.

One particular woman who he had his eyes set on was a blonde beauty whose glaring expression filled with hate was exposed all for the mean to notice.

‘Especially her…I’ll enjoy myself breaking her spirits little by little.’

To this thought, he felt completely blessed by the days to come. And then, he turned back to the stacks of silver on his hand. He grumbled in annoyance.

‘…But still, this much coin isn’t enough to satisfy my men. It’s been a while, but since the plague has already cleared away from the village, maybe it’s time that we take it for ourselves and set it as our base of operations.’

Truly, his plan to overtake a village was being set.

It was no doubt that in a couple of weeks, he and his men will invade the village with no remorse.

The women will be raped.

The men will be slaughtered.

The children will be enslaved and used for labor.

No one was an exemption to his greed and lustful ambitions.