Dark Rising : Blood Of The Eaters

Rio's eyelids trembled before peeling open. His vision, at first a meaningless blur, slowly sharpened to the silhouette of a low, unfamiliar wooden ceiling, where lazy cobwebs hung in the corners. The first thing he registered was the scent: a calming blend of herbal medicines overlaid with the distinct dampness of decaying wood. His head felt leaden, as if it had been struck by a sledgehammer, and a dull, throbbing ache radiated from every joint—the phantom echo of a brutal battle that had nearly claimed his life, a fight that had forced his body past unimaginable limits.

"Where… am I?" His voice was a dry rasp, more a guttural whisper than speech. His throat felt like a desert.

A shadow moved beside him. A familiar voice answered, its tone as flat as ever, yet threaded with a tremor of relief it couldn't fully conceal. "You're awake." Lisa sat on a simple wooden chair by the bed, her posture ramrod straight despite the fresh bandage on her shoulder clearly restricting her movement. Her pale face was etched with a fatigue that settled in the faint circles under her sharp, black eyes, but her gaze remained as vigilant as ever.

The memories crashed back into his consciousness with the force of a physical blow: the Domifirt, the burning poison, the soul-tearing agony. He jolted upright, a reflex born of instinct, trying to scramble from the makeshift bed of dry straw. "Lisa! What happened?! The Domifirt—the Eaters—"

"Calm down, Rio," Lisa cut in, her uninjured hand pressing firmly but gently on his shoulder, preventing him from moving and aggravating his condition. "You're in the village chief's house. Or rather, one of the empty huts we managed to… 'secure.' Dany and I took care of the remaining Eaters in the hall after you… well," she paused, her eyes studying him with a strange intensity, "after you did whatever it was you did to that Domifirt." She let out a slow breath. "As for that creature… Dany is 'babysitting' it outside. He's got it trussed up like a cocoon on the biggest, thorniest tree we could find. Seems he's thoroughly enjoying the task."

Rio breathed a sigh of tenuous relief, though a tightness still gripped his chest, and a strange vibration lingered deep within his bones. He let his head fall back onto the coarse straw pillow, his gaze fixed on the ceiling. "My body… it feels strange. It should be shattered. My bones… they feel new."

"You used the second stage of Shunpo," Lisa stated, her voice dropping to a more serious, analytical tone, as if she were trying to solve a puzzle. "The one Grandpa Henry told us about… the forbidden technique that sacrifices the user's body, that shatters every bone. I saw Grandpa use something similar once to escape a fatal blow—though not as violently as you did—and it left him bedridden for nearly a month. He could barely move; every breath was agony. But you…" Lisa tilted her head, her sharp eyes scrutinizing him from head to toe as if he were a rare and baffling specimen. "...you were out for half a day and you're already awake and complaining. That… isn't normal, Rio. Not even for the most gifted Gladius. There's something… different about you."

Rio held up a hand that felt unnaturally light, flexing his fingers, trying to feel each joint, each muscle. A deep soreness and a profound exhaustion clung to him like a heavy shroud, yes, but the piercing pain of shattered bones… it was almost nonexistent. There was only a peculiar warmth flowing faintly beneath his skin, a current of life energy working overtime to repair the damage with impossible speed. "This… this is strange," he murmured, more to himself than to her, his face a mask of clear confusion. "Why did I recover so fast? That poison… it should have crippled me for much longer."

Lisa shook her head slowly, her gaze never leaving him. "I don't know. And frankly, I don't have the luxury of pondering medical miracles or genetic anomalies right now. What matters is that you're alive and you can move." A genuine relief colored her voice, an emotion she rarely showed and quickly tried to bury beneath her usual stoicism. She paused, then swiftly changed the subject, as if not wanting to dwell on the strangeness of him for too long. "But I am curious, Rio. Why was that Domifirt so obsessed with this remote village? Cursing them with failed harvests for centuries just for a few sacrifices? It sounds… incredibly inefficient, even for the greediest of monsters."

Rio was silent for a moment, letting his still-foggy mind process her question. The memory of the old woman's despairing story surfaced with stark clarity. "The old woman I met… she said that centuries ago, this village was different. The land was fertile, the harvests always bountiful. There was no famine, no suffocating despair."

"Then what happened to make it like this?" Lisa asked, a single eyebrow raised with interest.

"Then, out of nowhere," Rio continued, his gaze distant as if watching the tragedy unfold, "everything changed. Crops began to wither for no reason. The soil turned barren. The streams, once clear, ran dry or turned foul. The villagers tried everything, praying to gods who never answered, but the famines continued, year after year. Starvation became rampant, and disease followed like an unwelcome guest. They were frustrated, desperate, on the verge of losing all hope."

Lisa listened intently, her serious expression showing she could well imagine the horror of it.

"And just as they hit rock bottom, when death felt closer than life," Rio went on, his voice now laced with a deep bitterness, "he arrived. The Domifirt. Or as the old woman called him, 'the man in the fine suit.' He appeared from thin air with a charming smile and promises of paradise. He offered them a solution. He swore he would restore the fertility of their land and make their harvests plentiful once more."

"And in their desperation, they just believed him?" Lisa asked, her trademark skepticism showing.

"They didn't have many other options, Lisa. They were on the brink of total annihilation. Of course they welcomed him like a saviour descending from the heavens. And the Domifirt… he actually kept his promise. In a short time, their land became fertile again, the crops grew strong, the harvests were overflowing. The villagers worshipped him, built that cursed temple for him." Rio paused, his jaw tightening at the memory. "But he demanded one thing in return for his 'generosity.' A sacrifice. One human, every week."

Lisa snorted softly, her eyes flashing with cold fire. "Classic. Giving with one hand, only to take with another already stained with blood. A disgusting scheme."

"But that's not the worst part, Lisa," Rio said, his gaze now locking onto hers, a cold realization dawning in his eyes. "The old woman thought the Domifirt truly possessed some magical power to enrich the soil. But I… I have another theory, after hearing your story about discovering the poison he was planting in the fields."

Lisa waited, her eyes narrowed, trying to follow the logical leaps Rio's mind was making.

"What if," Rio said slowly, each word heavy with a dawning horror, "the Domifirt itself was the cause of the failing harvests from the start? What if he, with his cunning power and perhaps aided by his Eater underlings disguised among the villagers, had been secretly poisoning this village's soil and water for years? Making them suffer slowly, driving them to the very brink of despair, until they were ready to accept help from anyone, under any conditions, without asking a single question?"

Lisa's eyes widened slightly as she absorbed the implication of his words. "So… he created the problem, then arrived as the false hero offering the solution?"

"Exactly," Rio confirmed, his tone bitter. "He didn't magically make their land fertile. He just… stopped poisoning it. He lifted the curse he himself had cast, like a puppeteer manipulating his puppets. And in return, he secured an endless supply of human sacrifices, generation after generation. The villagers never knew that the 'God' they worshipped so blindly was the very demon who had plunged them into damnation for centuries."

A heavy silence fell over the small room. The truth Rio had unearthed felt colder, crueler, and far more insidious than the simple physical brutality of the Eaters they were used to. This was high-level psychological manipulation, a long game that had consumed souls and rotted a community's faith from the inside out.

Lisa finally let out a long, slow breath, a sigh laced with disgust and a touch of horror. "That creature… he truly is the definition of a charming devil." She looked at Rio, a rare glimmer of acknowledgement in her eyes. "You put that all together very quickly, especially in your condition."

Rio just gave a weak shrug. "Logic can sometimes be more painful and sharper than any sword." He fell silent for a moment, the dull ache in his body beginning to throb again, reminding him of the fight. Then he asked in a quieter voice, "Your turn, Lisa. How did you end up chained to that cursed altar? I thought you were only going to scout from the outside. You're not usually so reckless."

Lisa's expression tensed again, a shadow of the horror crossing her eyes as she remembered. "That was the plan," she began, her voice trembling slightly before she forced it under control. "I snuck into the building alone. The place… it radiated a wrongness even from the outside. Cold and oppressive. I only brought a short blade, thinking it would be enough for self-defense against ordinary guards and would allow me to move more quietly."

"I followed the dark corridors until I found a steep stone staircase leading to a basement. It was pitch black, and the air was thick with the smell of damp and mould. The stairs led to a massive chamber, more like a cavern than a room. And there, Rio… there were dozens of people chained to the walls, mostly children and women. Their faces… they were masks of indescribable despair and fear. Some were already lifeless." Lisa's voice choked for a second.

"Just as I was observing them, trying to find a way to help without being seen, my Shunpo senses detected them. About five or six Eaters, coming from behind me, moving without a sound. I didn't have much time to react."

"Why?" Rio asked, knowing Lisa was typically hyper-aware.

"The damn urn," Lisa spat, clearly still furious with herself. "I decided to hide inside a large ceramic urn in the corner of the room, thinking it was a safe place to observe from. But the thing… it was filled with dust that must have settled for ages. I couldn't stop myself from sneezing. Just once, but it was enough."

"And they found you instantly?"

"Of course," Lisa said, her voice bitter. "They swarmed the urn. I managed to leap out and dodge their initial attacks, even wounded one or two with my knife. But there were too many of them to fight alone and unarmed. They kept pressing, my space shrinking. I was cornered. One of them swept my legs out from under me, and I fell hard, my head hitting the stone floor."

She paused, touching her bandaged shoulder. "When I tried to get up, they were already on top of me. There was a bit of… 'resistance,' on my part, naturally. But they didn't kill me. One of them, who seemed to be the leader, licked the blood from a scrape on my wrist. Instantly, his red eyes lit up like he'd just found a gold nugget. He knew. He knew I was a Gladius. They didn't even bother interrogating me. They just laughed, saying their 'Master' would be thrilled with this 'special offering.' They said Gladius blood was an aphrodisiac for their God."

"Because it was the day of the ceremony," Rio murmured, connecting the last piece of the puzzle. "They didn't want to damage the 'offering' before it was presented."

"Exactly," Lisa nodded. "They treated me like a prized trophy, dragged me upstairs, and chained me to that stage. Guarded me closely, waiting for their 'God' to arrive." She fell silent, then looked at Rio with an unreadable expression. "The rest… you already know."