Return of the Woodcutter

Aito\'s vision blurred. Inside him, his fractured soul was about to be eaten by the ninja\'s. His soul had proven to be a worthy opponent. The ninja\'s soul was wounded, but not as badly as Aito\'s soul. 

However, despite its injuries, the ninja\'s soul appeared to be the victor. 

\'Fuck….\'

Blood rapidly escaped Aito\'s body, flowing out of his armor onto the already red floor. There, everything seemed to stop. Images of his previous life brushed past his mind. 

His childhood, teenagerhood, some part of his adulthood. 

.

His decisive choices. Good and bad. Failures and successes. 

His regret.

\'No… I cannot die here,\' he thought. 

Pieces of memories from the tournament and the turning point in his life flashed by. His time in prison, on the fishing slave ship, and his encounter with his trusted best friend.

\'Jack…\' 

A lean man with grey hair. Tanned body due to the constant exposition to sunlight. Jack had saved his life by taking him on board his sailing boat.

He had fed him and nursed his wounds. 

Aito had never seen such kindness in his life coming from a stranger. Turns out, Jack was just that kind of person. Helping others without waiting for something in return. 

With nowhere else to go and wishing to repay his debt, Aito had accepted Jack\'s offer to follow him on his journey. Sailing where the wind would bring them. 

During the journey, Aito had talked about his past misdeeds, how he was a criminal, a father killer. 

Turns out, Jack was no better himself. He was a thief known throughout the world as the Untraceable. A stupid nickname the media had given him because they\'ve never been able to find traces of him. 

Even Aito had heard of him. 

Jack had laid down his mantle after a while for the person he loved the most. Surrendering himself to the police and giving back most of what he had stolen in exchange for a lower prison sentence. 

Unfortunately, his ex-wife hadn\'t had the patience to wait for him during his time in prison and left him for someone else. 

Since then, he had found salvation in God and became a fervent follower of the Catholic religion. Spreading whatever good he could, using the small stash of stolen goods he had hidden before entering prison.

Even though that wasn\'t ethical from a certain standpoint—that could be argued—Jack hadn\'t cared. To his mind, that money would do more good in his hand than in a bank\'s safe.

Jack had encouraged Aito to serve his sentence. Although it might result in going back onto a fishing ship, Aito had accepted but wished to ascertain his family\'s safety first. 

Leaving the sailing ship behind, they had then traveled to a small town called Lac St-Jean where his mother originated from. If Olivia had gone somewhere after her husband\'s death, there was a high chance of being in her birthplace.

With Jack\'s thievery skill, he had been able to hide Aito\'s identity long enough to reach the town. 

However, Olivia was nowhere to be found. Jack had called upon his old network through the darknet, but no traces of her or Haley were found. It was like they had vanished and become ghosts. 

Desperate, Aito fell again into alcoholism, deeper this time. Unwilling to borrow money from Jack, he had worked as a woodcutter to pay for his alcohol, always taking his salary in cash to avoid unnecessary traces. 

At some point, Aito had learned from a local doctor he had cancer in the terminal stage, not that he cared. 

Pitying him, Jack had helped Aito stay hidden until that faithful day where he died, alone on his way to a local shop to buy his daily dose of alcohol.

\'I miss that old man and his jokes,\' he thought as he progressively closed his eyes. 

A single regret had kept him awake until now, but sheer will could only lead him so far as his body would allow him.

\'I\'m sorry dad… after all my talk about failures, this is all I amount to.\' 

Around him, challengers fought for their lives. 

\'So noisy…\' 

His eardrums stopped functioning due to his fractured soul, preventing the fighting sounds from disturbing his soon-to-be last sleep. 

The stench of human corpses, wet by piss and feces, started to bother him. 

\'So gross…\'

His sense of smell soon disappeared. Unaffected by the putrid stench surrounding him, the idea of welcoming death seemed more and more enticing. 

Aito\'s body temperature lowered with each passing microsecond. The chill biting him to his bones. 

\'So cold…\'

His sense of touch waned to the point he couldn\'t even feel the cold anymore.

Soon the blood in his mouth became tasteless, leaving him with nothing but a blurry vision that… was disturbed by a notification window that wasn\'t blurry for some reason. 

[Do you wish to live, mortal?] It asked, [It is not too late for me to help you.]

Aito\'s mind jolted awake… as awake as it could, temporarily restoring his ability to think, recognizing that personality. \'What the fuck are you doing here, Valinar?\' 

[I\'ve always been by your side, watching you and your struggles. You couldn\'t read nor see me since I\'m not powerful enough for that. However, in your current state, the barrier between the material and immaterial world thinned, thus allowing you to see me. Can\'t you feel it? The souls surrounding you?]

Indeed, now that she said that, Aito noticed he could somehow feel the people that were still alive around him. It was messy, but he could sense them. 

The hobs enjoying themselves. 

The humans fighting for dear life. 

The many grey monstrosities still awaiting outside the cathedral for their turn to feast. 

He could even feel his own soul with more clarity than before. It was like it stood in front of him. Like he could touch it. 

As if a connection had been established between body and soul. Between the material and immaterial. 

[What say you? Life or Death?]

\'You already know my answer, goddess. So why do you ask?\' 

[Indeed, since it is perfectly obvious. But I need to hear it from you. Do you accept my help or not? If it hadn\'t been for your level 3 body, you\'d already be dead. Now, hurry! Say the words!]

Aito remained silent. Instead of answering, he took this opportunity to rapidly feel the surroundings in search of his partners. 

He didn\'t know what he was looking for, though. However, strangely, he could feel some kind of link guiding him towards another soul he somewhat felt familiar with. A weeping one, full of distress.

\'Ogoro…, why is a man like you filled with so much despair?\' 

[Mortal? Your answer!?]

His mind then wandered elsewhere, following the link to another soul. A soul filled with hope in... he couldn\'t tell in what exactly. But despite the number of souls around her, he supposed she was still fighting. 

\'Sheyla…, so much hope....\' 

[AITO WALKER, DO YOU WISH TO DIE!?]

Aito turned back his attention to himself, his blurry vision and the annoying blue window only visible to him. 

\'No, I don\'t want to die, goddess.\' 

[Then quickly say it! Tell me that you accept! With my help, those filthy creatures will be nothing to you!]

Inside him, his soul that was about to be devoured hadn\'t given up just yet. He could feel it. He could sense it. 

Body and soul were linked, forming one single entity.

\'Hahaha…\' 

[Why are you laughing!?]

In Aito\'s core, the ninja\'s soul approached his, its attention solely focused on its meal. 

Sensing this, the eight other injured minor souls took this opportunity to gang up on, contrary to Aito\'s expectation, the easy meal—him.

However, the ninja\'s soul furiously defended what was its by right. Unprepared, it worsened its injuries even more. Angry, it focused its attention on the others, thinking that the dying soul could wait. 

\'HAHAHA!\' 

[Did you go mad, mortal!?]

\'No, goddess. If anyone went mad here, it is you! If you\'ve observed me for this long, you should already know my answer.\' 

Aito seized control of his soul, no, he seized control of himself. 

\'I am tired of your divine games and schemes. You hear me!? Never again will I accept the help of a god! Twice was plenty enough. The other challengers might have not realized it yet, but I know, I know what you all think of us!\' 

His soul trembled, starting to move again despite its crumbling state.

\'We are not puppets you can order around under the pretense you revived us only to be butchered someplace else like cattle! You don\'t own us!\'

Gathering its remaining strength, Aito\'s soul dashed at its target in a final attempt to shift the power balance, aiming at the ninja\'s soul\'s most wounded spot.

\'If I must be saved or save others, I will do so on my own! I will strive to pave my own path, as a mortal! No matter the odds, I will achieve my goal with these very hands! Not yours nor any other gods!\' 

His soul rammed into the ninja\'s soul, shattering it, liberating particles of soul essence. Fleeing and unprepared, the eight others barely had time to notice Aito absorbing everything. 

\'I don\'t need your help, goddess of bravery. Just stay silent and watch from the side like a pervert getting wet from our misery. Watch me save myself and those mortals you gods consider mere puppets!\'

Aito\'s soul shone brighter, expanding, recovering strength and vigor, but it wanted more. Taking advantage of the others\' injured state, it bolted faster and faster. Shattering, swallowing, sucking in every ounce of soul essence it could. 

\'And if I must fail, if I am to die, despite my regrets, I will do so as a man! Unfulfilled or not!\'

[…]

\'This is my answer, goddess!\'

[You..., *Sigh*. It appears that I am not needed indeed.] Surprisingly, that was all Valinar said, despite Aito\'s particularly apparent lack of respect.

Her notification window dimmed, progressively replaced by a blue light emanating from Aito\'s body, glowing denser and brighter.

\'Time for round 2.\'