Night had fallen, casting long, eerie shadows that danced amongst the towering, bioluminescent flora. The air thrummed with the cacophony of nocturnal creatures, their calls a symphony of clicks, whistles, and guttural croaks. The ground beneath my feet was spongy, covered in a thick layer of moss that glowed with an ethereal light.
A jungle? And this is quite familiar.
Then, I saw him. He sat beneath a tree.
I approached cautiously, my footsteps muffled by the thick moss. He was so focused on the holographic display in front of him, he didn't notice me until I was mere steps away.
"Who's there?" he shouted. "Stay back!"
His gaze fell upon me, and his eyes widened in disbelief. "Naofumi?" he whispered, his voice laced with a mixture of shock and terror. "How... how are you here?"
The surprise on his face was genuine, a stark contrast to the chaotic energy that surrounded him.
"You stole something from me," I said, my voice low and steady.
"It wasn't yours," he sputtered, his voice thick with blood and disbelief. "Besides, why are you even here? Wait… you have a shield too? How?"
"That's not important," I repeated, the words echoing in the eerie silence of the jungle clearing. "You've meddled with forces beyond your comprehension." My gaze hardened. "Look, I have no personal grudge against you. But I'm going to have to beat you… quite thoroughly. It's the only way he'll listen."
"He? Who are you talking about?" His eyes darted around the clearing, searching for an unseen presence.
"Doesn't matter." I stepped forward, my shield gleaming in the dim light. "Brace yourself."
A swift, brutal hook punch connected with his jaw, sending him crashing against the gnarled trunk of a towering tree. A crimson stain blossomed on his cheek, the force of the blow jarring him to his core. My attack stat isn't nearly this high. The thought flashed through my mind. This… this is the God's doing.
He staggered to his feet, a look of stunned disbelief on his face. He began to glow, a faint, ethereal light emanating from his wounds, signaling his healing spell. But before the healing could take hold, I was upon him, a savage thrust to his gut sending him reeling. He coughed, a spray of blood staining the glowing moss beneath him.
"I'm sorry," I said, my voice devoid of emotion, "but you'll have to endure this."
And then, the beating began. A relentless barrage of blows, each one landing with brutal efficiency. His cries echoed through the jungle, a symphony of pain and confusion. I didn't give him a moment's respite, the God's unseen hand amplifying my strikes, turning me into a force of brutal, divine justice.
After a time, he lay broken and bleeding. I paused, my chest heaving, and then, with a strange sense of detachment, I activated a healing spell, mending his shattered bones and closing his gaping wounds.
He gasped, his eyes wide with terror, and then, the beating resumed.
"Answer me!" He demanded. "How did you get here? How do you have a shield? Why are you so strong? Where were you until now?"
When do I stop? I wondered, my gaze searching the dense foliage for any sign of the God.
Then, a voice, cold and clear, echoed in my mind. "Don't repeat your previous mistake. I know you are so intelligent. Also, don't stop until I tell you to."
The God.
The realization settled over me like a shroud. This wasn't about teaching him a lesson. This was about… something else.
Something far more complex and sinister.
I resumed the beating, each blow landing with a chilling precision. His cries faded into whimpers, his body a canvas of bruises and scars. The jungle clearing became a macabre stage, the glowing moss stained with his blood.
I can't stop. The God's command echoed in my mind, a chilling reminder of my powerlessness. I have to keep going.
The rhythm of the beating became a grim, hypnotic cadence. Each impact, each grunt, each whimper from him, was a stark note in a symphony of divine punishment. The air grew thick with the metallic tang of blood, the scent mingling with the damp, earthy aroma of the jungle. The bioluminescent flora cast an eerie, pulsating glow over the scene, turning the clearing into a grotesque stage.
I paused, my shield dripping with crimson, my breath ragged. He lay at my feet, his body twitching sporadically, his eyes glazed over with pain and exhaustion. He was barely conscious, his mind lost in a haze of agony.
"Please…" he whispered, his voice a raspy, broken plea. "Stop…"
But the God's command echoed in my mind, a relentless, unyielding directive. "Don't stop."
I resumed the beating, each blow landing with the same brutal precision as before. His body jerked and spasmed, his whimpers growing fainter with each impact. The clearing was silent, save for the rhythmic thud of my fists and the soft, guttural sounds of his pain.
The jungle itself seemed to hold its breath, the nocturnal creatures falling silent, as if even they were awestruck by the sheer brutality of the scene. The air crackled with a strange, otherworldly energy, a tangible manifestation of the God's power.
Time lost all meaning. The beating became an endless cycle, a macabre ritual performed under the watchful eyes of the ancient trees. His body became a canvas of bruises and scars, a testament to the relentless force of divine retribution.
Suddenly, a shift in the atmosphere. The air crackled with a surge of energy, and the God's voice echoed in my mind, clear and sharp.
"Enough."
Does he think I'm his puppet or something? I stopped, my fists hovering inches above his broken form. The silence that followed was deafening, broken only by the soft, ragged breaths of the dying jungle.
He lay motionless, his body a mangled mess.
"Good," the God's voice said. "Now return to me." the God's voice continued, a hint of satisfaction in its tone.
I looked down at his broken form, a strange sense of emptiness washing over me. The beating had been brutal, merciless, a reflection of the God's capricious will. But now, it was over.
A swirling vortex of energy opened before me, identical to the one that had brought me here. I stepped through, leaving behind the ravaged clearing and the broken form of him. The jungle faded into a kaleidoscope of colors, and then, I was back in the austere, echoing hall.