Noslen and Hervald are finished before they even start. For with merely
two swings of their swords, the Elders’ adversaries drop to the
ground. With the Elders’ first swing, they slice through the
Cutthroats’ sword. With the second, they slice clean through their
adversary’s neck. Effectively severing their heads from their bodies.
Heads that slide off from the Ordermen’s necks shortly after.
Seamlessly following the Elders’ swords’ swing path. All while their
victims’ eyes stare up in complete disbelief the entire way to the
ground below. Their brains shutting down completely mere moments after
Even though the men were brick shithouses layered with naught but pure
muscle and rage, the poor souls had no idea what was coming. The men
died before they could even think of swinging their weapons in
retaliation. It could almost be considered a tragic sight to behold.
That is if it was anything besides human waste being disposed of.
For you see, that is one of the many benefits of social Darwinism and
the justice it naturally brings. Lesser intellect generally equates out
to increased aggression in most hominids. A trait that will eventually
catch up to the aggressors and get them killed. Even if it occurs after
they have already killed—they still end up dying prematurely. At least
that is how it should work.
Now I believe it is safe to say that those who live in their own mind,
those that fail to increase their potential by simply learning about the
world around them and its many wonders, can all be categorized as those
with the lesser mental power. They box themselves in and fail to educate
themselves enough to form even a minute understanding of the world’s
happenings. Those ignorant hominids are normally the ones with the
Such aggression stems from the ignorant hominid’s innate fear of the
unknown. A fear that only grows due to the fact that new knowledge is
perceived as blasphemy to such beings. Well at least until the fact is
reasserted by several other hominids to back up the initial claim. But
most fail to ever go to such extremes to solidify their beliefs.
You may be asking, just what does this have anything to do with
anything? Well, it is very simple. Those narrow-minds are very easy to
control. All one has to do is use the beings’ ingrained herding
instincts against them to achieve total dominance. The ruling elite
simply utilize their feeble minds to get them to reproduce rapidly and
continue on the cycle of ignorance.
Figuring that ignorance breeds intolerance, one can only assume that
such will eventually lead to naught but apathetic narcissism. These
traits are ones that are inherently detrimental to the human form. Ones
that will lead to the devolution of humanity as a whole if left
unaccounted for. Because to evolve, Homo sapiens must maintain their
intellect throughout the entirety of their lifecycle.
If those gullible hominids with the lesser intellect become the
majority, it spells out death for any free society. Those brainwashed
citizens will kill their own mother if it means moving up in the
sociopolitical ladder of their cult-like society. In essence, such acts
of blind devotion are precisely what is going on here in the story. The
masters have simply sent their dogs out to do their bidding.
However, things are not quite working out in their masters’ favor. For
soon after the Elders vanquish their foes, Darios and Vegard are
finished with theirs. Both of whom hastily make mincemeat of their
Darios simply swings his longsword into the side of his opponent with
all of his might. Instantly paralyzing the Orderman by means of severing
his spinal cord. However, Darios’ blade does not slice the entire way
through as the Elders’ blades had done. For once it severs the
Orderman’s spine, Darios’ blade comes to an abrupt stop.
The initial look of shock on the Orderman’s face is followed by a
myriad of other emotions. He drops his blade the moment his spine is
severed and stares at Darios as he experiences a lifetime’s worth of
emotions in several seconds. His twisted and perverse fantasies soon
begin playing out while staring deeply into Darios’ eyes. Staring with
the sole intention of cursing Darios’ soul.
While staring, the Orderman wishes to die assuredly knowing that his
opponent’s time on this Earth is about due as well. Such fantasies
being the ones that are playing out as his brain shuts down. Fantasies
of his masters torturing all of the dissidents around him until their
However, Darios has no intention of letting his opponent die on his
blade. So before the man even has a chance to completely fulfill his
deviant cursory act, Darios musters up enough strength to finish his
slice. Causing the man to immediately collapse to the ground in two
separate pieces. His entrails spewing out from both halves after the
pieces of him fall. Followed suit by all of his blood and bile, which
begins pooling around the corpse. Creating a viciously brutal stench
that would make any being cringe.
Vegard makes quicker work of his adversary than Darios. But only because
instead of using a longsword, he is using his fancy scimitar that is
much more lean and easy to maneuver. Still, the adversaries share
several blows before Vegard uses a nifty sleight-of-hand technique. A
technique where Vegard magically bypasses his enemy’s sword midair
before slicing the man’s neck. Effectively severing one of the
Orderman’s carotid arteries.
The Cutthroat scum is apparently in shock after the impact. Looking as
though he does not know what hit him. Because he stops dead in his
tracks with a look of sheer fright on his face. Only proceeding to grab
his neck after blood begins visibly spewing out from his mortal wound.
Its red velvety essence splattering on his shirt and the ground below as
it intermittently spurts out from his flesh. Forcing him to walk toward
the shoreline to get a view as his life drains out from betwixt his
hands. Both of which he is using to apply pressure to the wound.
Desperately attempting to stop the blood flowing from his neck.
Yet, the man can do naught but stumble toward the shore to get a
mirrored view of himself. Leaving naught but a trail of blood in his
wake. For all of his paltry attempts to hinder the flow prove to be all
but frivolous. Because each stumble equates to an exponential loss of
life. Life that the man does not have much of. A fact that becomes quite
apparent moments later when the man is coughing up blood clots while
trying desperately to gasp for air.
Just before the Orderman reaches the water, he suddenly collapses to the
ground. Upon making contact with the earth below, he throws up a
grotesque mix of blood and stomach acid. Doing so before expiring on the
rocky shores of Little Valentine Lake for good. His remaining life force
spilling into the lake as it finishes draining from his corpse.
Replenishing the lake with his body’s sustenance. Finally giving back
for once in his vile and pathetic life.
Once both of their opponents are slain, Darios and Vegard peer over to
their right. They are soon to realize that Hervald and Noslen have
vanished along with Zakaria. Only the trio’s adversary’s corpses
remain in their stead. Giving rise to a barrage of questions inside of
the brothers’ minds. Apart from the Ordermen’s corpses, they see
Roland, who is as steadfast as ever while clashing with Julian.
Darios and Vegard merely nod at each other in approval over the sight of
Roland before looking to their left. For they know he will be able to
make mincemeat of Julian in no time with his Sowilo Spear. So why bother
even thinking about helping?
However, things take a sudden turn for the worse the moment the
brothers’ eyes catch sight of the other two Mutineers. So much so that
they can do naught but quickly run to help them. For Azimov and Merlin
are both clearly struggling to overcome their more-than-formidable
Azimov is sparring against a towering six-foot man. A man that seems to
be well over three-hundred pounds of pure muscle. Not to mention drunk
off of rage due to his companions’ losing their fights so quickly.
Now even though his massive stature hinders his stealth, the Orderman
makes up for it with his armor. For you see, Azimov’s foe is not
equipped with the standard cloth-layered armor as all of the others.
Instead, he has rebar-lined leather manicas on his arms. Manicas he uses
to block every blow Azimov throws his way.
After each block, the Orderman counters Azimov’s advances with a
powerful swing from his broadsword. Letting out intimidating grunts and
groans with every devastating blow. Each swing knocking Azimov back as
he tries desperately to block it with his worn, yet similar,
Just after the first several swings, Azimov can do naught but begin
growing weary of his opponents unrelenting defensive maneuvers. I mean,
the unwavering barrage of swings his enemy is issuing would be enough to
slow any man. For each swing is riddled with naught but malice and
scorn. Such emotions are quite evident on the Cutthroat’s face with
each failed attempt at vanquishing his foe. They do naught but grow with
ferocity every time he has to recoil his body to swing.
Before Azimov loses anymore oomph in his defensive abilities, he takes a
gamble and chooses to take an offensive stance the moment after his
opponent’s next brutal blow. So once the Orderman swings and his body
is in its transitory state of recoiling for the next strike, Azimov
gallantly thrusts his sword into the man’s abdomen and turns it every
which way to ensure his fatality. However, even with Azimov’s sword
decimating his innards, the Orderman does naught but grow all the more
The hulking Cutthroat scum begins makings all kinds of demonic noises as
a look of sheer fright overcomes Azimov’s face. For it soon becomes
clear that the now defenseless Azimov very well might not come out of
his scrimmage alive. So Azimov does what little he can to escape. An act
that simply consists of him hurriedly leaping back. Only to fall to the
ground below and begin crawling on his hands and feet to avoid his
adversary’s final attempts at vanquishing him. His eyes never leaving
his opponent throughout the entire process.
During such acts the Orderman is looking dead into Azimov’s eyes. All
while standing there with a blade sticking out of his gut. Standing
motionless for several moments before taking one last swing that fills
Azimov with terrified angst. But only due to the fact that his foe’s
blade barely misses his throat. For the Orderman haphazardly spins
himself down to the ground and uses his momentum to launch his sword at
Azimov as he collapses. Only for him to expire moments later.
To the right of Azimov is Merlin, who is also struggling to overcome his
foe. Now Merlin is simply trying to deflect his adversary’s sword
swings with opposing swings from his cumbersome club. However, with each
block, another chunk is taken out of the club. So as the fight
progresses, Merlin’s club slowly begins dwindling down to nothingness.
After several blocked swings, Merlin manages to swing his club at his
adversary’s hand. Effectively knocking the Orderman’s sword to the
ground. Yet, before the Orderman’s sword even touches the ground, he
rushes Merlin and initiates a bloody fist fight to the death.
The surprise alone troubles Merlin, who is more than overpowered by his
adversary’s immense stature. Because the man pummels down on Merlin
with the fury of god himself. Issuing a rapid hostile beating the likes
of which said gods would only give to the evilest of men.
Upon seeing the fight beginning to turn in the Orderman’s favor,
Darios and Vegard hurriedly make their way toward Merlin. As they run,
the Kilmar brothers see Merlin falling to the ground while his enemy
ruthlessly swings his fists at Merlin’s bloodied face. However, upon
hitting the ground, Merlin simultaneously falls onto his back; reaches
for his club; and kicks the Orderman back before leaping up off the
As he leaps back up, Merlin blindly swings his club up the side of his
stumbling opponent’s head. Producing a large burst of blood that is
accompanied by a loud cracking sound. A sound that resonates throughout
the valley. Reverberating for only a moment before being followed by a
loud thud. For the Orderman immediately falls to the ground after
impact. His blood pooling on the ground the moment he makes contact.
Upon coming to and seeing the sight of his fallen adversary, Merlin lets
out a heaving sigh of relief as the Cutthroat’s blood begins to pool
around his feet. However, Merlin is still beaten and fiercely shaken up
inside after the scuffle. Walking away with at minimum a concussion. Not
to mention the several lacerations and broken facial bones he has
By the time Merlin is finished with his opponent, Darios and Vegard are
not even halfway to him. So on their way, the brothers fetch Azimov and
take him to Merlin. Now, since all that is left is Roland and Julian,
the brothers simply find a good spot away from all of the Ordermen
corpses and lead the others there to watch the fight.
It does not take long for the small group to grow bored with what they
are seeing. For upon initial inspection, the group of onlookers notice
Roland is not really having any trouble at all. So instead of watching a
one-sided fight, the group makes their way up toward Cathedral Peak to
tend to Tomas.
On their way up, Hervald and Noslen keep telling the group to “Make
haste,” and “Hurry before the finale”; whatever that means. So the
four men do as they are told and rush to go get Tomas. Leaving Roland
and Julian all by their lonesome to finish their brawl.
From the get-go, Julian and Roland fiercely trade blows. Effectively
cancelling each other’s blows by deflecting them with their weapons.
However, as soon as Zakaria slays Julian’s brother, Julian begins
striking faster and more violently. Causing Roland to take primarily
“I want to watch the life drain from your eyes you defiant scum!”
Julian ferociously roars as he stabs and slashes at Roland, who is none
too pleased with his negative sentiments.
“You deserve to die for your misdeeds toward mankind!” Roland snarls
As Roland’s anger grows, he begins to lose his patience. It boils up
to the point where he can no longer tolerate the constant onslaught of
Julian’s advances. The Sowilo Spear evidently picks up on Roland’s
impatience. For it soon begins glowing a mystical fiery-orange right
before their eyes.
Even though it appears to be scorching to the touch, Roland seems
unfazed by his spear as he ferociously swings it in tandem with
Julian’s sword’s swing path. His blade glimmering as he swings it
with the utmost force. Swinging it so hard that once the two weapons
collide, the spear slices right through Julian’s sword.
“Wh–wh–what in the hell was that!?” Julian cries.
However, Julian gets no sort of solace for his panicked inquiry. He does
get to dumbfoundedly watch the next series of events unfold though. For
he can do naught but stare madly at Roland as he draws his spear back
for his next attack. An attack where he proceeds to slice Julian’s
hand clean off with the swift flick of the wrist. Showing no hesitation
or remorse for such actions as he stares wildly into the blue.
“What in the hell is wrong with you, Rollo?” Julian nervously
questions as blood begins pouring out from his forearm.
Instead of responding, Roland blankly stares at Julian. For he appears
to be lost in a trance of sorts. So much so that his eyes become heavily
glazed over mere moments later. Making it appear as though Roland is
being sedated by his mystical spear. Yet, even though his mind is out to
lunch, his body more than makes up for its absence by moving ever so
eloquently as Roland tortures Julian.
It appears as though Roland is in auto-pilot. As though he is letting
his spear take control of his every action. All while he stands back in
pure bliss watching the spear do his bidding. Playing out all of
Roland’s devilish fantasies that have been accumulating inside of his
mind since the moment he saw Julian’s vile face.
Before long, Roland begins mindlessly, yet playfully stabbing toward
Julian’s chest with his spear. Forcing Julian to stagger back while
looks of sheer horror engulf his being. He knows for a fact all of the
pain and suffering he has ever inflicted on others is about to be
wrought back unto him. Coming to such realizations the moment Roland
lunges forward toward him.
Roland gracefully swings his spear as he floats through the air. Just
barely coming in contact with Julian’s body with its glistening blade.
An act that seemingly forces Julian to wince in panicked pain.
Because just from it singeing the hair on Julian’s chest and lightly
cutting into his flesh, the entire Sowilo Spear transitions to a
brilliant scarlet-red coloration. Once its transition is complete, the
spear apparently takes full control of Roland’s being. A sight that
clearly upsets Julian. For Roland proceeds to bring his spear back to
his person before delivering the final blow.
Excerpted from "The Last Mutineers: Stigmata Rising (Volume 2)" by Patrick M. Bedont Jr.. Copyright © 2017 by Patrick M. Bedont Jr.. Excerpted by permission. All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher. Excerpts are provided solely for the personal use of visitors to this web site.