Fractured God

Nearly an hour earlier.

Tibaut looked down at his fist and started opening and closing his gauntlet. He produced a flame to get a better look at it.

It was spotless.

(“Not a drop of blood on it. I know, I didn't get a clean hit but this is still some solid metal. Elizabeth might have some trouble against her.”)

He was currently still in the forest that surrounded Elizabeth's property on his way to town. Whether he'd know where it was taking place or not in time was another matter.

(“Elizabeth mentioned that Mr. Bentley guy, maybe he'd know what they’d be planning to do tonight. Shit, I hope he's still there otherwise this would be an unnecessary time waste.”)

As he saw the end of the forest he noticed an ever so slight noise coming from above him. Given what happened he decided it was better to play it safe and stop himself. A knife flew in front of him, the thrower likely expecting him to have kept a consistent pace.

He formed a fire lance and looked to the trees. He saw the leaves shake but before he could fire, an arrow nicked his arm.

He noticed it in time and managed to dodge but he immediately felt the effects of something.

“What the?”

He stumbled to his knees.

He heard someone mumbling in the forest as he knelt down.

“You fucking idiot, which poison did you use!?”

“I don't know! They were just lying around! It's not like you guys labelled them!”

Tibaut slowly brought a hand to his chest and an unnoticeable green glowed over it as his enemies argued for some reason. Were they on orders not to kill him? Thinking back, it seemed the hired woman didn't want to kill Elizabeth either. What was the point of this?

He decided to see what this was about and fell to the floor like a sack of potatoes, ready to spring up if it sounded like the enemy wouldn't be too perturbed with killing him. He laid face up to get a better view of them.

The moment he fell down to the floor, two people came to the forest floor and ran towards him. They stopped a few feet away and began groaning. They were likely men and more importantly, they both wore all black just like the men that infiltrated the mansion.

“You fucking idiot we weren't supposed to kill anyone! Doesn't he like this guy as well!?” One complained as they stared at Tibaut. He was doing his best to make it seem like his breathing was laboured and made sure to weakly turn his head towards him.

“Shut up you idiot, he's still alive. He's just a bit… tired is all.”

“Give me those arrows dipshit, and take these.” He handed the other man his knives and rested a palm against his head. “Sigh, let's just pray this isn't to-”

Tibaut got to his knees and began crawling towards him while he pretended he choked. It looked like a dying man trying to get one last hurrah on his attackers.

One of them looked at Tibaut and clicked his tongue.

“You really fucked up man, let's just hope we can leave the parish before he finds out. If we're smart we ca-”

He stopped paying attention to Tibaut. And for that, he'd pay dearly. With his new gauntlets, Tibaut decided to test something out.

He brought his arm back and quickly brought it forward.

The man’s leg shattered like a twig.

“Arfh!?” He squealed before falling to the floor. “My leg, he got my fucki-”

Tibaut quickly got up and pounced on the other man. He brought up his hand, likely hoping to conjure some magic but Tibaut’s fist was far faster and he punched at him.

(“Oh right the gauntlets, it'd probably kill him if I punched him in the face.)

Worrying he might kill him, he moved his fist past his head. The man was completely still, already accepting his apparent death as he closed his eyes. He grabbed his neck before pulling him closer to land a softer-than-average punch to his torso.

The man fell with the whites of his eyes showing.

(“Were these guys always this weak? I guess it is two instead, what was it, seven? last time.”)

“Gah, damnit, how'd we let this-”

Crack

A sickening sound echoed through the forest that silenced the man. He looked over to Tibaut, to see him with his fist slammed into his comrade’s leg.

(“I can't have them running off, so this should be fine. I can't imagine them running far without their legs.”)

He positioned himself over their other leg and smashed another one of the unconscious man's legs.

He soon turned to the other man, who was crawling away at the floor.

But it was a laughable pace. He just had to walk over to him.

“NO LEAVE ME ALONE YOU SON OF BITCH, WE WEREN'T EVEN GONNA KILL YOU, HE'S THE ONE WHO FUCKED UP, NOT ME, FUCK THAT BASTARD UP!” He pleaded as he could only watch as Tibaut got closer.

Tibaut lightly stepped on the broken leg and began digging his heel into it, as the man tried to claw his way through the dirt.

“FFFUUCCKKKK!!”

“Listen, if you don't want the other leg broken-”

“AAAAAHHHHFFDDDD”

Tibaut took his leg off and the man began panting, covered in an unnaturally viscous sweat that had formed. He breathed heavily as he turned to Tibaut.

“Like I was saying, you guys are planning something tonight, right?”

The man in black began vigorously nodding his head. “(RIGHT, HE CAN DEAL WITH HIM!!!!!!) THE PARISH GUILD, THEY'RE GONNA BURN IT DOWN WITH THE OLD MAN INSIDE, PLEASE JUST LET ME GO!” He shouted.

“(Wow, I didn't even give him my terms yet.)” He brought his hands down to his neck and quickly choked him out.

He lifted up his hand and….

“Nice, he still has a pulse. Should I break the other leg? Nah, at his current pace, he'll likely be stuck in the forest all night. He shouldn't be too hard to find after this is all done.”

Tibaut immediately began his sprint back to town.

(“Wait, burn the building down? Are they planning on killing the old guy!? Then why leave us alive? Tch, this doesn't matter right now, I have to reach there before they manage to kill him.”)