"Ghosts of the Battlefield, Reapers of Monsters"

(BtVS/God of War Verse/Bleach/Fate Series/Danjon ni Deai o Motomeru no wa Machigatteiru Darō ka/Others)

By Shadow Master

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the copyrighted materials contained herein. They are the rightful property of their respective creators and/or associated companies. I make no profit from this whatsoever and I have no intention of changing this in the future. I write because it's fun and because there are those who enjoy reading the stories I want to tell. Therefore I would appreciate it if no legal action was taken against me for writing this story. I can promise you that no matter what there's no way I have enough money to make legal action against me worth it.

Note: Got the compulsion to write this after watching the latest season of 'Danjon ni Deai o Motomeru no wa Machigatteiru Darō ka' aka 'Is It Wrong to Try to Pick Up Girls in a Dungeon?'. After enjoying the season I asked myself what would be needed in order to write a good crossover with this anime and what would be amusing. This is what I came up with.

Note 2: Don't worry this isn't going to be one of those stories where the person that is changed instantly becomes a badass with full mastery of their new abilities. For the most part, there are always exceptions, I believe in a feasible learning curve between being changed and becoming the master of every one of those changes. I won't drag it out to the point where it gets boring but neither will I make it go by quickly just because some readers are lacking in patience or drama.

This is part of the 'Rough Cut Diamonds' series of stories. I have made this series with the intent of updating them as regularly as possible factoring in RL(Real Life) and work on those other stories already in progress. In order to post new chapters as swiftly as possible I will be putting them online with only my word processor's own spelling and grammar checking function to ensure quality. Expect there to be a few mistakes but this is the cost of posting them ASAP instead of sending them to a beta reader to be polished to perfection.

Ghosts of the Battlefield, Reapers of Monsters

Sunnydale, California

Halloween Night of 1997

An Observer's POV

"Well this is turning out to be more entertaining than I'd thought for such a minor bit of magic." He thought as he watched the central figure of his amusement display his prowess.

Indeed when he'd originally arrived in this reality in the hopes of finding something that could not be found anywhere else he'd initially been disappointed. It hadn't taken him long to determine that unlike some of the other realities he'd visited with his power this one had restrictions in place to keep those of true power off the game board. The only ones allowed to walk the Earth were humans, demon-human hybrids of one sort or another and creatures that weren't much more intelligent than ordinary animals. True there appeared to be magic but from what he could detect with his arcane senses much of it was strictly controlled by RULES and veritable deities allowing mortals only limited un-stringed uses of it. All in all he'd been ready to upend the entire system just to see what would happen but that changed the moment he spied someone whose other dimensional analogues he'd had fun with before.

Ethan Rayne.

Across the myriad realities he'd encountered the man's various iterations with some of them even being female but in all cases they were devotees of chaos in the service of their own amusement. Sure they might pay lip service to Janus when necessary but that was more a means by which they could grease the proverbial wheels and have the fun they were after. While some of the iterations failed to do things that amused him beyond a mild chuckle a few had actually managed to exceed his expectations by a fair amount.

Intrigued at what might be afoot he'd used his magecraft to conceal his presence before following this reality's version of the chaos mage in order to find out more.

'Be careful what you wish for' indeed!

The idea of casting an old spell related to Janus that turned everyone who bought an enchanted item from Rayne's store into whoever or whatever they'd dressed up as…BRILLIANT! Granted the spell was designed to come to an end at sunrise AND the changes were only meant to be skin deep so as not to upset the local Balance but it was still an inspired prank. He'd spent hours watching people shop in the store buying everything from mere accessories to full costumes with some customers being obvious with their intentions while others he'd needed a few minutes to puzzle out. The chaos he'd expected to see was enough to make him quite glad he'd chosen this reality as his next destination.

However it'd been when he'd seen one young man in particular that his interest took a sharp turn upwards. If the spell that Rayne intended to cast held the potential to create great chaos than the young man he'd seen was a lightning rod for chaos. He'd wager that magic wouldn't work properly in proximity to the boy and definitely if it was directed at him specifically. Thus when he'd seen the teenager leave the store carrying a big bag, a fake spear and under one arm a helmet he recognized as coming from ancient Greece he decided to follow. It'd only taken a short while for the lad to reach his destination and to say he disapproved of the young man's home would be a mild understatement. He was no stranger to the darkness in the souls of humanity, he'd seen it in every reality he'd visited without exception, but to see the boy take it from someone inferior to him…unacceptable. It was one thing to be made to suffer from one who was stronger than you or smarter but the odious fat man that was the boy's father had been neither.

When later he discovered that the young man had chosen to dress as an officer in the ancient Spartan army he'd nodded in approval. Those warriors while lacking in some areas had been the epitome of discipline and strength with the famous tale of the three hundred who'd opposed the Persian army merely being the most famous. It'd been then that he'd decided that he would tweak the effects of the spell for the young man so that he would gain more from the alterations of the spell and those changes would not fade when the magic ended. Not enough of course to make it impossible for the teenager to live as a modern day human but rather to ensure that he wouldn't allow the weakness of others to define him in the future.

It hadn't taken much work, merely some adjustments while the lad looked at himself in the mirror, with obvious care so as to ensure that his magic did what he wished it to do. It'd required that he keep the teenager in his room a bit longer than was prudent if he was to make it to school on time but he doubted it'd matter. Indeed when he'd followed the young man to his school the ill tempered principal had merely spewed his venomous words before proceeding to assign children to the person he was interested in. From that point onwards events had proceeded mostly as they'd been expected to until three cliché bullies had appeared to harass the young man.

Evidently it wasn't just the foul excuse of a father that was intent on keeping the young man from reaching his full potential but his classmates as well. When he'd listened in on the words spoken he'd learned that a lady friend of the one he'd taken an interest in had simultaneously rescued him and humiliated the bully. Logically the proper form of retaliation would've been to confront the young lady but as was often the case with bullies they'd been reluctant to face one who'd proven capable of defeating them. Instead the bullies had chosen to focus on the one they'd no doubt defeated before intent on gaining indirect revenge rather than the more honourable kind.

Rather than back away from the superior numbers the young man had chosen instead to face them head on no doubt to prove to the bullies that he was no easy mark. It did not come even close to being what one might call a contest of warriors, more like the fight between school children that it truly was, but the interesting lad proved resourceful in the face of his physical disadvantages. Naturally the bullies couldn't allow this to continue and so one of them took the plastic cutlass that'd come with the pirate costume and swung it with all his strength at the 'young Spartan's' head. Naturally the two items, both made of a cheap plastic, could not withstand the force of the blow causing the sword to shatter and the helmet to crack a couple of inches outward from the point of impact.

Even worse a shard of the plastic sword cut across the young man's right eye with only chance making it so that the lid and the eye itself did not suffer damage.

Nevertheless any cuts above the eye tended to bleed quite a bit and with his vision obscured on the right side it would be like chum in the water to these three sharks. Even as the young man took off his damaged costume helmet and cast it aside the trio had cackled like a group of hyena even as they toyed with the prey they believed to be helpless. For a moment he'd considered intervening but decided against it in the end since that very action had sparked in the first place when the young lady had done it. So instead he'd watched as the bullies had taunted the lad, used feints so that another could strike and even use the single fragment of the plastic sword still attached to the hilt to draw blood.

One would think that this would become one of those 'death by a thousand cuts' moments but in their overconfidence the bullies quickly grew careless.

A mistake the bleeding teenager was cunning enough to take advantage of when the moment was right. Waiting until the next moment of feint and strike the lad had made it look as though he had fallen for it yet again but then spun around to face his true attacker. Committing everything he'd had left to this final move fortune chose to favour him since he succeeding in grabbing the lead bully by the wrists before falling backwards while bringing his right leg to press against his foe's chest. Though still full of flaws the throw was still carried out and the leader of the trio got tossed right into the minion that'd been in charge of the feint. Disoriented the duo had been unprepared for the young man who'd been quick to follow up with a stomp to the face of the minion on his back followed by a kick to the leader's face causing the blonde teenage boy to roll over onto his back.

Then, as if to vent all the suppressed rage within him, the lad sat himself down on the leader's chest before delivering punch after brutal punch to the face. In the end it had not been mercy that'd brought the beating to an end but rather the depletion of energy. After the young man had stood up he'd looked at the remaining thug and delivered his ultimatum: all three of them would leave him alone FOREVER. They would not speak of what'd happened to anyone instead claiming that 'muggers on PCP' had harmed them before running off into the night.

If the minion and his friends failed to do their part then he'd find them before the police caught up with him and he'd make sure to give the cops something more impressive to charge him with.

Needless to say the sole surviving minion had proven to be the smartest of them all because he'd immediately agreed to the ultimatum and promised to make sure that the others did as well. Seeing the interesting young man walk away with the likely intention of tracking down the children he'd been responsible for so as ensure that they returned home safely the sight reaffirmed his earlier opinion. The teenage boy might've been raised by a miserable excuse of a man but his soul was that of something far greater.

It'd been then, once the lad was a little over three blocks away, that Rayne's spell had activated sweeping over the town like a gentle shockwave. He'd been able to feel the Roman god's power and more than that he'd been there to watch as the young man underwent his own transformation from what he'd been to what he'd dressed up as. When the muscles had grown a bit larger and more defined he'd thought that that would be the end of the physical changes leaving only the knowledge of a Spartan soldier to be deposited but Janus proved that he too was interested in twisting things. Much to his surprise at the time he'd watched as the hair on the lad's head fell out leaving his scalp as smooth as a baby's backside even as a short goatee grew on the chin. The bleeding wound over the right eye closed up leaving only a scar behind and the crimson liquid on the young man's arm began to flow into a pattern that continued beneath the chest plate. He hadn't known what was going on until he saw the redness rise up the back of the lad's neck to left side of his face to paint a line over the left eye.

However it'd been when the transformed young man's eyes had opened that he'd known that he was not gazing upon an ordinary Spartan soldier but rather a warrior that would become a legend.

From his place of concealment he'd watched as the warrior controlling the young man's body had attempted to comprehend how he'd come to be in a land that only barely resembled what he'd known. Fortunately a young redhead girl appeared to provide at least some of the answers even if it proved difficult given the warrior's lack of people skills. It'd been through this conversation that he'd learned the warrior's name, Kratos, and that he'd come from a time where deities all too commonly meddled in mortal affairs. Fortunately Kratos had been wise enough to understand that he'd fare far better with a guide than he would walking about on his own and so the two had gone in search of their real friends.

He'd nearly laughed hard enough to disrupt his concealment magic when he'd learned that the chosen warrior of light for this world was not only a teenage girl but that the same young woman had been changed into an eighteenth century noblewoman. Though he'd decided to wait until he saw the girl as she truly was before passing judgment he questioned the wisdom of selecting a champion in the middle of adolescence. Young ladies were a handful at the best of time when they were in their twenties but during their teens they were particularly hard to predict much less control. To see the Chosen One reduced to a spineless fop taught to be pretty, refined and wed a rich husband for whom she'd produce a worthy heir was quite amusing.

In the end it'd only been with the redhead, Willow's, pleading words that Kratos had taken the transformed 'Slayer' to her home where they would be safe if only temporarily.

Once inside Willow had attempted to use the pictures about the living room to convince the dominant minds that they were not in their real bodies but rather the bodies of her friends. Kratos had of course rejected the idea where he was concerned but believed that the Slayer was the girl in the photos due to the near perfect resemblance. Fortunately more proof soon arrived when the Spartan was convinced to rescue a curvaceous young woman in a leopard leotard who'd had the misfortune of being chased by Big Foot. Though speaking a variation of English no doubt native to this part of California Cordelia had reinforced Willow's position that both Kratos and Lady Elizabeth were in possession of bodies not their own.

Too bad the discussion had to be interrupted by an undead corpse with a soul behind the wheel named Angel of all things.

While he was no stranger to the various forms vampires could take the one that'd entered the Slayer's home through the back door had at once been the weakest as well as the most unimpressive. Increased physical prowess, limited hypnotic abilities and completely unable to alter their form aside from caveman brow ridges along with sharpened teeth.

Alucard would've either ignored this one outright or been infuriated at the idea of it being labeled 'vampire'.

Fortunately he hadn't needed to cope with the pitiful creature for very long because in an instant Kratos had discerned its monstrous nature and swiftly had taken hold of Angel by the throat before pinning the undead man against the wall. Willow had attempted to intervene and persuade Kratos that Angel was an ally not an enemy but the Spartan ignored her in the end. No doubt the warrior had found it to be unacceptable to risk turning his back on a being that to his senses was a monster. Thus with a ruthless roar Kratos had thrown Angel into a nearby tall mirror shattering it and then before the 'vampire' could recover used the largest fragment to cut Angel's head from his body.

It'd been then that he'd sensed something that probably only a handful of people in this reality could and it had him concerned. When the vampire known as Angel had been turned to dust a filament of pure white energy had appeared before him before falling to pieces and vanishing. Even with only a few seconds of time he'd been able to identify it as a monitoring strand that some deities often used to keep tabs on their favoured mortals and sometimes manipulate them into following 'the script'. While he hadn't familiarized himself with the pantheons that might exist in this reality he did not think that any god or goddess would appreciate interference of this sort. Elevating his mystic senses to a higher level he'd chosen to keep watch over the young man in order to ensure that no harm came to him even if the one intending the harm was a deity. He'd felt confident that if he came into conflict with one of them over the young man that he'd be able to force the other to withdraw. The structured rules and the fact that he hadn't sensed the presence of deities walking the Earth implied that either they'd chosen to never manifest here or were being prevented from doing so by a more powerful entity. In either case it would not be easy for any god or goddess to act directly and there would be consequences if any rules were broken.

He on the other hand would at best be encouraged to leave this reality by either bribery or threat with the former more likely to work than the latter.

What had happened next had been annoying because in fright of the brutal tactics and methods used by Kratos the enchanted Slayer had run off in fear out of the house and into the night. Chosen warrior she might have been but under the effects of Rayne's spell she was all but helpless and with so many different beings walking about it was inevitable that she'd come to harm. Willow had been quick to point this out AND insist that Kratos go after her while she went to see what sounded like a local occult expert for advice on how to resolve the situation. Naturally the Spartan showed little interest in this since finding and protecting the Slayer did little to help him find his way back to his world or aid him in his personal ambitions.

He didn't much care for the Chosen One either since he'd been able to sense the fact that even should she die another would rise to take her place.

However there was SOMETHING that he could do that might well make it all worthwhile even if he couldn't display his magic openly. There were certain things that could be considered constants when it came to warriors who lived in the times of Hercules, Leonidas and Achilles. Vices if you will that most if not all of them partook of to varying degrees save when they had something more important to motivate them. Food, drink and the pleasurable company of an attractive woman were the vices of choice for a warrior of the ancient world. Not surprising considering how each battle they leapt into could very well be their last regardless of how skilled or careful they were. When death could come for you tomorrow or even before the sun set it only made sense to enjoy what pleasures life had to offer when you could. Granted a Spartan's first loyalty was to their nation but second to that responsibility was the one to family for once a warrior got married it was considered dishonourable to lay passionately in bed with a woman who was not his wife.

In a moment of insight though he didn't think that the chains of marriage were of any concern to Kratos any more thanks to some great tragedy in the warrior's past.

Whatever the memory of sadness might be he'd doubted that the man would be persuaded by modern day purchased food and even a properly prepared meal might not be enough given the time needed to cook it. Given the ages of Willow and the leopard girl she doubted they'd know of a drink potent enough to catch Karatos' interest and neither did the owner of the house they were in. That had left him with only one possibility and it was one that had the potential to amuse him greatly while at the same time had the potential to appease whoever had ties to Angel.

Given that the leopard girl was curved sufficiently in all the right places with pleasing features to look at the only obstacle was her less than pleasant personality. He'd encountered her sort before, the rich and entitled, but that had not meant that his plans were foiled before they could unfold. He'd spotted the brief moments when the rich girl had snuck looks at the muscular form of Kratos and the hint of arousal that'd almost been impossible to see when Big Foot had been brutally dealt sent running for its life. All that likely held her back from acting on her emotions was her own perceptions of what a young lady of her social status was permitted to do and the presence of a spectator.

Fortunately for him those had been easy obstacles to overcome and it had taken barely any magic at all to do.

All he'd needed to do was employ a subtler form of hypnosis to convince her that no one need know of the one night stand and that it was unlikely that the young man Kratos was possessing would remember anything. He'd even gone a bit further by appealing to what virtues the girl valued by making it feel wrong that the Slayer be left to die on her own out in the night. Once he felt the dark haired girl's resistance drop to almost nothing he merely nudged Willow a bit to seek out her occult expert she thought could help.

Less than a minute after Willow had left the socialite acted on the adjustments he'd made to her view of things and made a bargain with Kratos.

If he would seek out the Slayer and protect her until the magic of the night then she would show him such pleasure with her body such as he had never experienced before. Then taking on what she probably thought was a seductive posture showing off her best physical attributes she waited for Kratos to make his decision.

Fortunately for the sake of his plan the Spartan had been unable to think of a single reason to refuse since it gained him something and he had no real leads on getting back to his home reality. What followed was a primal bout of love making that shoved aside whatever lingering doubts the girl might've had about making the offer while turning out to be satisfactory payment for Kratos. It hadn't even lasted for an hour but both had been satisfied with the performance of the other so when the time had come to seek out the Slayer there had been nothing holding Kratos back.

A good thing too because thanks to their bit of fun it had almost been too late for the Slayer for she had been found and surrounded by another vampire that bore a striking resemblance to Billy Idol. However once Kratos made his demand that the vampire take his minions and leave the Slayer to him there was only one real outcome where the Spartan was concerned. The vampire scoffed at the demand, made it clear the Slayer was his to do horrible things to and that Kratos should just 'bugger off'. With words no longer an option the Spartan's strong suit was the only option left and so a battle ensued. The minions of the vampire didn't last long and those altered by Rayne's spell quickly found their loyalty evaporate leading them to flee for their lives.

In the end it'd come down to the Billy Idol vampire and Kratos with neither willing to accept anything other than complete victory. It'd been a brutal fight and while the vampire showed inhuman physical prowess Kratos was not lacking in that area either and he had faced monsters in battle before. After the first five minutes of battle the vampire had shown signs of frustration no doubt having expected to crush Kratos quickly or at least show a clear superiority in combat. Indeed he'd not expected to see such an even fight either and it'd made him wonder just who this Kratos was that Janus had chosen to insert into the mortal's body. The strength, the resiliency, the boy had exhibited in the fight was not something a mortal was capable of without magic or divine involvement.

When the battle had come to an end mere minutes ago none had been more surprised than the Billy Idol vampire when Kratos run him through with his spear before using his bare hands to rip the undead's head from his shoulders. Looking down at the pile of ashes that'd once been a powerful (for this reality anyway) vampire he wondered what would happen next. The Slayer was safe, those changed by their costumes had come to no lasting harm at Kratos' hand either by the warrior's intentions or thanks to his own intervention and a young man would become something MORE.

"Are you well woman?" Kratos asked turning to the still ensorcelled Slayer seeking nothing more than confirmation that he'd completed the job the leopard woman had tasked him with.

"I…I do not appear to be hurt." The Slayer replied taking a moment to inspect her body for signs of injury or spots of pain, "However I cannot seem to stop trembling. I…I am the daughter of a governor and while not lacking an education this…nothing I have been taught could prepared me for such VIOLENCE."

Not entirely unexpected since noblewomen of the time frame the Slayer had dressed up as were raised to be dependent on the men of their family whether they be fathers, brothers or husbands. While not as uneducated as the generations that'd come before neither did they possess the knowledge, experience or opportunity to rise about their station in society. As such it was only logical that the men of society acted to keep them safe and far from anything that they deemed the women too weak to handle.

What did surprise him though was when the Slayer dashed into Kratos' arms and embraced him as though to draw on his strength to dispel the fear causing her body to tremble. For a moment the Spartan merely stood there refusing to reciprocate the Slayer's actions caring not for her distraught state but just as one might think the girl would be hurt by his rejection he gave in. With awkward movements implying that it had been quite awhile since the warrior had given comfort to anyone he wrapped his strong arms around her. In time the trembling stopped but when the Slayer refused to release Kratos from her embrace he allowed his to remain as well apparently content to wait. It was only two minutes later that the spellbound Slayer leaned back to look her saviour and in her eyes he spotted a twinkle in her eyes that he recognized.

"You have done me kindness warrior and saved my life." The Slayer said with a simmering heat to her voice, "Normally I would go to my father to provide you with a suitable reward. Property, title and significant wealth would not be unheard of. However we are in a strange land no doubt far from my father's holdings so I offer the one thing that is mine and mine alone. I offer you my body and my virtue if you would have it."

What is going on? He thought as he waited to see what Kratos' reaction would be, Women of that time period, especially the noblewomen, were not as bold as this. Indeed the majority of them were devoted to the rules that governed their religion most of which made sex outside of wedlock sinful and thus forbidden.

True those of lower classes while still religious were not as determined to remain true to their God's teachings but the consequences for those with wealth or power were far greater if they strayed from what was deemed the pious path.

It was then that the Slayer decided to tempt Kratos further and with practiced movements of familiarity removed the lower half of her dress. What lay beneath though was no petticoat or what had been the undergarment of that era but rather something more common to what modern day women wore. He was confused for a moment before realizing that some of the older style undergarments were so different from what modern women wore that it might've been too much of a bother for the Slayer. If so then it was only natural that she would have chosen to wear something more familiar even if it clashed with the style of the dress' era.

Or perhaps the Slayer had a boyfriend and had planned for an intimate get together after chaperoning the children around the neighborhoods of Sunnydale.

Whatever the case might be the choice to cast aside period appropriate attire had clearly influenced the personality that Janus had placed in control of the Slayer's body. While for the most part still a noble with all the characteristics of an aristocrat there apparently existed beneath the surface a young woman who desired to defy what was considered proper by society. Not openly, not to the degree that it might affect her standing in society, but rather as a sinful secret that would allow her to indulge in pleasures not appropriate for a lady of stature.

Looking at the young man under the control of Kratos of Sparta it took only a few seconds before the ancient warrior chose to accept what was offered. To a man who lived most of his life on the battlefield, one not restrained by the ties of matrimony for some time, offers such as this were not to be squandered.

One never knew when they it might come again if at all and such intimate moments often served as a balm to soothe a soldier's soul and lessen the hardships of the battlefield.

With as much primal desire as human decision Kratos took hold of the Slayer and passionately kissed her and his efforts were returned with equal passion. As the heat of their passion grew the Spartan's hands chose to journey south to grasp both posterior cheeks with his hands and in response the young maiden pushed off the ground so that she might wrap her legs around his waist. As though she weighed no more than a pillow Kratos held her up even as the Slayer sought purchase so as to press herself more fully against his muscular body. With strides unhindered by the additional weight Kratos walked over to a nearby pickup truck that had its rear door down and had been abandoned by its owner in the chaos of Rayne's spell.

Placing her down on the back of the truck he went to work removing the remainder of the Slayer's dress with the intent of seeing ALL that she had offered him. While at first he might have sought to do so without the intent of damaging it his lust was soon partnered with impatience causing him to use his formidable strength to tear the fabric from her body. Instead of inspiring fear in the girl from the suddenness or anger at the destruction of a valued possession the Slayer the young lady instead felt even greater levels of lust as well excitement. With nothing in his way any longer the Spartan began to employ methods of pleasuring that had either been lost to mists of time or been refined over the ages until their origins were difficult to discern. Whatever the case they proved to be a new experience for the noblewoman as every sensitive and pleasure inducing spot on her body was savagely stimulated to strike blows of pleasure every bit as potent as Kratos' attacks in battle.

In the end it proved to be too much and with a loud cry the Slayer reached the climax of her pleasure arching her back before going limp as she basked in the afterglow.

At this point he thought the lass spent but when she pushed herself onto her elbows to look at Kratos the flames of lust still burned brightly within her.

"You have fanned my flames, brought them to their peak, but do you dare to plunge your sword into my virgin sheath?" the Slayer asked with heaving chest even as she spread her legs wide to grant him access.

"I am a warrior of Sparta woman." Kratos replied even as he rid his loins of obstructions, "No fires burn hot enough to cause me fear!"

With those words and a savage thrust the Slayer was no longer a girl but a woman and while the warrior possessing did pause to allow her to come to terms with her pain it did not last for long. Almost a little too soon in his opinion Kratos began to pump in and out of the girl with the Slayer adding her own enthusiastic movements into the mix. By all rights the amount of strength being put into their efforts should be producing bruises if not potentially breaking bones especially for the girl. He'd seen more than enough evidence to suggest that while Janus' magic was at work the young woman possessed none of her superhuman abilities whether it was the superhuman strength or the durability. The young man he'd been following however had definitely had his strength increased as well as added durability in the form of rock hard muscles such as those created through years of dedicated training. Therefore such aggressive rutting should be doing her harm but he saw no expression of pain on her face but rather ever rising pleasure and a voracious desire for more.

Had Janus foreseen this possibly happening and made arrangements to ensure that the Slayer would not come to harm or be given reason to stop this?

For what reason had the Roman god taken these measures in regards to the Slayer?

When the heated pair both reached the climax of their actions and took a moment to relax he felt the air shift subtly and sounds that he hadn't noticed going silent returned to his ears. Time manipulation? A spell to cause activities within a certain area to speed up considerably while the rest of the world proceeded at its usual pace? Normally such a thing was done when refraining from such action would result in the failure to achieve a desired objective. If the objective was to ensure that Kratos and the young maiden were allowed to have sex without being interrupted then there was only one possible reason of relevance.

Conception.

In a way he had probably given Janus the inspiration for this with how he'd nudged the leopard girl into using her body to persuade Kratos to go to the Slayer's aid. Yet of what possible benefit could the conception of a child between a chosen champion and a young man that was a lightning rod for chaos produce? Employing magic to allow him to perceive more than ordinary human eyes ever could he looked at the two in order to see if something had changed as a result of the love making. The first thing that caught his attention was that Janus had not transformed the young man into a generic Spartan soldier but rather one who was a demigod. If the feel of the divine power was true then it might well be that Kratos was one of the many sons Zeus had sired as a result of his philandering ways. If this was indeed the case then any child born of the union could very well be part Greek Olympian if the power Kratos had brought with him succeeded in taking root.

Then something caught his eye, something subtle, but he was used to such discreet phenomena so he looked closer and smiled.

Janus you crafty two faced bastard! He thought realizing what the Roman deity truly had planned.

It was scheme worthy of him!

However before he could think further on the matter he felt Janus' power vanish leaving only the infernal energy of the local dimensional fissure to be sensed by him. Janus' spell had been terminated and that meant…

"AAHHH!" the Slayer exclaimed in shock realizing no doubt her state of undress and noticing the young man's as well.

So long as the bottle blonde substance hadn't leaked into her brain it would be all too easy for the young lady to realize what'd happened between her and the young man. Fortunately for the warrior maiden there were no witnesses worth mentioning in the area and the one person that might've been able to figure it out was likely still asleep in the bed that'd been used for her bit of love making.

It had been quite vigorous after all.

With all the grace of a young man unaware of how he'd come to be in back of a truck with a naked young lady the lad scrambled out while trying to fix the loincloth he wore to once more conceal his manhood. The Slayer on the other hand looked like she was trying to find some piece of her dress that was still in sufficiently good condition to cover up with. Based on what he'd seen though she'd be lucky if she managed to find enough to fashion a mini-skirt and tube top.

And then his senses told him that they had bigger concerns to worry about.

Up in the air dark clouds were beginning to manifest, starting small but drawing close to one another to form larger ones, and before long the ominous rumbling of thunder could be heard. This in itself would be odd since such poor weather did not appear out of nowhere but what had him on guard was that he could sense divine energy building up inside of the clouds. Such energy did not occur naturally but rather when deities or agents of The One Above All chose to take direct action rather than send lesser agents to complete a task.

Given the timing he felt certain that the reason the beings were taken such aggressive action was that they'd caught onto Janus' little plan. Understandably they realized how this could very well interfere with certain plans they had and were no doubt gathering strength to erase the variables that would be the source of that interference.

Those variables of course being the young man and the blonde Slayer since both now held within them something that no one had seen coming or planned for.

He frowned at this for while he was no stranger to being annoyed at some outsider interfering with a plan of his these two did not deserve to be denied existence for something they had no hand in. However even if he were to cease hiding and bring his own magic to bear he had a feeling that this would only make matters worse. Upon learning that someone like him walked the Earth beings on both sides of the conflict between good and evil would see it as an opportunity to be seized. It would lead to escalation, confrontation and devastation. While he didn't always oppose such a sequence of events he preferred experiencing them when he was in the driver's seat so he could keep things more or less stable.

Instead he needed a solution that would protect those that needed protecting but at the same time prevent any opportunists from using what he did to further their own agendas.

In the end there was only one thing left to do.

Dropping the magic meant to conceal his presence he thrust his right hand in the young man's direction causing one of his spinning portals to appear behind the mortal. Then before he could be stopped he sent a strong gust at the teenager forcing him through it before he sealed the portal shut again. He'd only had a moment to think of an appropriate destination but he was confident that his instincts had helped him to choose wisely. Raising his gaze to the still rumbling heavens he decided to explain to those above what had happened and why they would be wise to show restraint.

"He is gone now and has left with a power inside him that will only grow with time." He yelled so that no one would have trouble hearing him, "Through the meddling of Janus and myself the young man is now not just a trained Spartan warrior but a demigod Son of Zeus. I might not know much about this reality but I do know that those with the blood of a god in them have a way overturning the natural order of things. Had you struck quicker you would have won but now he's beyond your reach."

"Where did you send him sorcerer?" a triad of voices asked from the depths of the thunderclouds above.

"Good question but not the right one. The question you should be asking yourselves is 'what will the young man do should he return to find the Slayer or any of his friends have been harmed or even killed?'." He replied like a teacher chiding an inattentive student, "You know as well as I do that demigods can live for a VERY long time before dying of old age and in that time they can accumulate great power. As he is now the boy doesn't have the first clue how to travel between realities but give him time and it wouldn't surprise me one bit to see him return here one day by his own power."

"You overestimate him sorcerer." The voices of the cloud said clearly unbelieving, "Even if Xander Harris is now a demigod of Zeus' lineage his human side will limit the level of power his body can generate, channel or control without destroying itself. He could never become a threat to us and should he return we would simply destroy him."

"Perhaps." He said letting them think they'd won before planting his seed of doubt, "But what if he doesn't come alone? What if others, linked to him by bonds of friendship and love, choose to follow him back and lend their strength? With your vision limited to this one reality do you really wish to roll the dice on just how powerful his allies might turn out to be?"

One after another he planted possibilities in their minds that they would not be able to ignore out of fear of being blindsided by them coming true.

In the end there was only one choice they could make.

"Very well sorcerer. None of those Xander Harris cares for will by harmed by any action on our part. However there are others who will not restrain themselves so." The cloud voices declared albeit reluctantly, "Even if we lend a hand to protect them we will not always be able to intervene. Even we have rules that we must follow."

"I never thought otherwise." He said though privately he snorted in contempt.

It never occurred to them that just staying their own hands but not obstructing the efforts of others would make them just as guilty in Xander Harris' eyes should he return to find his loved ones harmed. One who commits the evil act was guilty but one who allowed the evil act to occur when they could've prevented it was just as guilty. However this was as far as they were willing to go to keep Xander from directing any rage in their direction. To do more was to admit to their peers and enemies that they feared one demigod that may or may not return and what allies he may or may not bring back with him.

They would be seen as weak, cowardly, and such things often drew predators thinking there was easy prey to feed on.

This measured response would be easier to defend as simply not wanting to allow unnecessary trouble to get in the way of their important work.

In any case the ominous thunderclouds dispersed leaving him with only a barely clothed and decent Slayer standing in the middle of the street. Turning to face her he could tell that she was still trying to sort everything out in her head thanks to the fog-like after affects of Janus' spell along with what had just taken place before her. Normally this would be when he'd take his leave but in a moment of compassion he decided that the girl deserved at least some reassurance that things would get better.

"I know you're confused Slayer but this truly was the best possible outcome. Your friend is alive and with a little luck will find his way home." He said mustering what comfort he could to pass onto her, "What you must do, as his friend, is ensure that his return home will be a happy one rather than a tragic one. Protect this world, protect the ones he loves and do not forget to protect yourself."

"Not going to be a problem with that last one." The Slayer said with a bit of sarcasm, "Got a perfectly functional survival instinct."

"Yes…yes I imagine you do." He said with a smile of approval.

"Xander…he's gonna need someone to keep an eye on him." The Slayer said sounding as though she almost hadn't given voice to her thoughts, "He's a bit of an idiot but he's got a good heart. Has a habit of not looking before he leaps."

"I know the type." He said ruefully recalling a certain red haired magus, "I'll see what I can do."

With that he left the world through one of his portals to seek out the best choice to be Xander's minder in the reality the teenager had been sent to. He had been to many different realities and there were other versions of him that'd seen even more through the power of the Kaleidoscope who he could visit for inspiration. Best of all because time passed differently in each reality relative to the space in between worlds he literally had all the time in the world to find the one best suited for the role.

And perhaps spark another round of merriment while he was at it.

Reality 121313

A Forested Hillside Well Away From Civilization

Late Morning

Xander's POV

"Uuuhhhh…" he groaned as he regained consciousness.

His mind was a mess of broken fragments giving him few ideas as to why his body was sore or why he was on his back but when his eyes opened to see the sun poking through the tree branches above he knew he was not in Sunnydale. While there were forests out past the welcome sign he couldn't think of a single reason why he'd leave the town to take a nap in a forest instead of a comfy bed. That meant that he'd somehow been displaced either by mere chance or by someone's unknown design with neither possibility doing much to improve his mood.

Pressing both hands against the grass beneath him he pushed himself into a sitting position to allow himself a better field of vision with which to figure out where he was. From left to right though all he could see was trees, shrubs and other vegetation with zero signs that this spot was frequently visited by anything human. In places where people did go there would've been dirt paths caused by the frequent pounding of feet and gaps between the plants where branches were broken off by passage. This confused him because if someone had dropped him here then there should've been a sizeable gap from one person carrying another. It left only the option that he'd been dropped somehow from above through the treetops above but any fall that great should've hurt him at least to the point of leaving bruises. Had he been lowered carefully? Maybe. That still left the problem of motive though and none of the common ones meshed when taking into account who he was and what he could do. He was just an ordinary high school student with the only thing of significance being that he was Buffy's friend and she was the Slayer.

But whoever brought me here wanted to use me against her then why leave me here? He thought before getting to his feet, Normally you'd keep a hostage locked up somewhere.

Whatever was going on he certainly wasn't going to look a gift horse in the mouth. Better to be free in the middle of nowhere than tied up someplace relying on someone else to save him from possible future harm. Looking about he tried to determine if there was one way that was better than another but when everything turned out to look the same he simply shrugged before beginning the walk downhill. In half the movies he'd seen where the lead character woke up in the middle of nowhere a fairly solid course of action was to find a river and follow it. No matter the era or culture level involved people inevitably settled or at least made trips to available sources of water whether they were fresh water or salt water. Since anytime it rained the water would inevitably flow downhill if he went in the same direction he'd inevitably come to a river and from there he could follow it to wherever it led. Hopefully he'd find dirt trails indicating people or if he really hit the jackpot he'd come upon a village where hopefully the people spoke English so he could get some answers.

Where was he? What country? Where was the nearest airport?

His mind might be a little messed up but one thing he was certain of now was that he was nowhere near California and he doubted that he'd come to these woods by normal means. Hopefully it only meant that he'd been taken to another country but if his luck turned out to be really sucky then he might just be in another world. It was a little out there but the Hellmouth had essentially been a dimensional tear that was only just closed enough to keep the monsters on the other side from crossing over on their own. It wasn't beyond the scope of possibility that whatever weirdness that was messing with his recollection of what'd happened after fighting Larry and his minions might've also induced a dimensional hiccup sending him to another world.

If his luck turned out to be REALLY sucky then he was now in a world where every guy looked as well as acted like Snyder and all the women looked and acted like Cordelia at her absolute most viciously cruel.

Okay so maybe a world of Cordy's wouldn't be too bad since they'd be great eye candy but he'd have to wade through their venomous high and mighty attitude.

Meh, he'd been through worse.

It took him just over an hour before he finally found the river and once he discerned which direction it was flowing in he set off to find out where it all emptied out. As he trotted along the riverbank he tried to figure out what'd happened to him as well as the others since he doubted that whatever had happened had been focused solely on him. He remembered fighting Larry's goods and nearly getting the crap beat out of him only to pull out a win at the last second but less than a minute after he began looking for the kids he was responsible for his memories got choppy. He remembered bits and pieces, like the clipped out parts of a movie on the editing room floor, but without any sort of context to work with they were useless. He knew that he'd gotten a major muscle upgrade from the moment he'd sat up and he was pretty sure that someone else had been in control of his body the entire time.

He was also pretty sure whoever had been behind the driving wheel of his body had dusted Deadboy.

For that alone he was willing to show some leniency to whoever had been running his body if they ever met again in the future.

However there was also the state of things when he'd regained control of his body.

He figured it was safe to say that while it'd been a real treat to see Buffy's body in all its glory and a definite prize to know that he 'got there first' its value overall wasn't as high as some might think. After all he hadn't been the one in control at the time the sex had begun and he could clearly tell by the look on Buffy's face that she hadn't been in control of herself until right about the time he'd been. As such even knowing that he'd popped her cherry didn't mean a thing since it technically hadn't been him that'd done it but rather whoever had been behind the controls of his body. Also with Buffy not having been behind the controls of her own body it also meant that it hadn't been her who'd chosen him to be her first but another 'person' entirely.

It'd only have been meaningful if they'd both been in control of their bodies the whole time and she'd chosen him because she'd really loved him that much.

Getting it this way…it felt hollow to him.

Coming to a stop for a moment he looked down at his body and marvelled a little at how muscular he was now. Seeing a nearby but not thick tree he wondered for a moment just how strong he was now and what might happen if he punched the tree. Was he strong enough to break it with his fists alone? Attracted to the idea he approached the young tree and once he was the right distance away he brought back his fist before executing the best punch he could. With a crack the trunk of the tree broke from the force of his blow and while it was not the shattering like he'd seen sometimes in the movies it was definitely more than he'd been capable of before. The last time he'd tried to break a wooden board with a punch he'd only barely cracked it and it'd felt like he'd cracked a knuckle.

Now? Now while there was a stinging sensation it wasn't anything worse than if someone had slapped his knuckles.

"I could get used to this." He said with a grin.

With strength like this no bully would ever be a match for him leaving only those of superior strength or skill both of which he could rise to defeat if he trained hard enough. No longer was he just some gopher who at best could only act as a distraction while Buffy kicked vampire ass. Now he could step onto the frontlines of the fight against the darkness and add some notches to his proverbial belt while letting evil know it now had something new to fear. Buffy and Giles wouldn't be able to shrug off his requests to learn more and do more now that he had a body that was in just the right condition for training.

Still the first thing he needed to do was get home and that meant finding his way back to civilization.

Resuming his way along the river he found himself hoping that he found a town or a city soon because he was beginning to develop both hunger as well as thirst. Nothing too bad but he'd probably have a hard time ignoring it in another couple of hours and it'd slow him down as his tank began to run dry. He SERIOUSLY hoped he wasn't so far from people and food that he'd have to hunt for the latter himself because not once did Tony Harris ever take him anyplace to hunt. No camping trip in the woods where he'd be shown how to use a bow and arrow or a hunting rifle so he could bag his first deer. The only education he'd had about roughing it out in the woods and living off the land was from the various sources of entertainment he enjoyed.

Considering how many inconsistencies and outright lies Hollywood dished out there was no way that he'd be able to survive.

The woods are no place for a civilized guy like me. He thought stepping carefully across a patch of moss covered rocks.

A Caravan Heading North

Three Miles Away

"Something bothering you Shenzou?"

"Something feels…off." He replied pulling his focus back from what his Elven senses were telling him, "Something's changed."

"Monsters? They do pop up from the ground sometimes."

He considered the possibility.

While the Tower did keep the majority of such creatures contained in the Dungeon there had been reported cases of monsters reaching the surface via previously unknown openings or by digging their way up. To his knowledge it'd never led to anything serious due to the familias of the various gods and goddesses quickly responded to the initial emergence reports. Still…this didn't quite feel the same.

"No…no I don't think so." He said trying to define what he'd felt, "It doesn't feel like a group of many or even three or four. It feels…singular."

"Then we've got nothing to worry about. With the Falna of our goddess and the cunning of our captain no single being, monster or not, can stand against us."

"Most likely." He said conceding that there was precious little that could stand against them at the moment.

A significant number of their familia were guarding this caravan with most of them being Level 2s with a Level 3 being in overall command. While their familia's captain was not here it was his plan they were following in order to safely transport the 'merchandise' to its destination without being seen. The roads they were taking were old but not often used due to their instability when bad weather hit and the availability of more direct routes. The odds of them running into some random travellers was small but if they did their captain had given explicit orders about how they should respond. They had the numbers to assure both success as well as secrecy.

Nevertheless he had experienced many things since joining his familia so he knew better than to take anything for granted.

The unexpected could manifest right when you felt the safest.

"Quit being so depressing! We've got some choice cargo this time that'll bring a premium price once we get to our buyer. Sure most of it'll go to our goddess but I'm sure we'll be rewarded for a job well done. Gotta say I'm looking forward to that!"

"Indeed." He said knowing well how their goddess rewarded her children for a job well done.

When such rewards were handed out he made sure his enjoyment of it was measured and did not extend past a few days. Other members of his familia however had been known to indulge themselves a little too much sometimes invoking the anger of their goddess especially if it cost them a substantial amount of valis. She did not begrudge them their fun during their off hours or even during a job even but if it cost her she made sure that it wound up costing the ones responsible as well.

"Look, we're going to be setting up camp for the night soon, so howsabout once all the grunt work is done we 'sample the merchandise'. There're a few pieces I know I'd like to taste and as long as we don't do anything to devalue the goods Ananke-sama won't mind."

He didn't bother to point out that just by 'sampling' the merchandise they could devalue it since some customer's preferred that their purchases be in mint condition and didn't pay top dollar for used goods. He'd been on enough of these jobs with these men that he alone would not be enough to deter them from dipping into what was in their carts. He'd be all alone and there were three carts in total spread out across sixty feet at least giving him substantial ground to cover and very little time to do it in.

Better to choose a single cart and prioritize keeping them away from that then waste his time trying to protect them all.

Casually letting his gaze pass back over the convoy of carts his mind locked on the one he knew needed to be kept safe. It held but one item but he'd seen the look on Ananke-sama's face when she'd mentioned it at the start of their job…that was the ONE thing he could not allow to be touched. If he let the others so much as lay a finder on it…they'd be lucky if all their goddess did was withhold their share of the profits. At the absolute worst that could happen…well he'd prefer not to let that happen if he could help it.

Most familia members who suffered that fate never managed to work their way back into Ananke-sama's good graces.

EVER.

Mid-Evening

Quite a Bit Downstream

Xander's POV

It's official. He thought his stomach growling in discontent, I am VERY far from civilization!

He'd been travelling all day downstream hoping to run into some form of help or even a sign of civilization that he could use to head in the correct direction but nothing had popped up. All he'd seen was vegetation, rocks and nothing else. Given how long he'd been walking especially at a decent pace he would've come across something if whoever had taken him from Sunnydale had dropped him off someplace outside a town or city. Even if he'd been dropped into some country's national park he should've found a path or ranger station by now. He'd seen enough trees and plants to know that he wasn't in some rain forest but rather someplace with vegetation similar to what you'd find in North America. Considering the size of your average woodland park in North America he would've found something there by now if they were his current location.

That left only one possibility according to his sizeable mental library of sci-fi, fantasy and occult knowledge.

He was in another dimension with many similarities to the one he'd been born in but a healthy helping of differences as well.

It didn't take a genius to figure out that it took a heaping helping of power to send a person to another dimension without killing them in the process. When combined with the most likely motive of hurting Buffy by proxy he figured it was possible that his travel plans were intended to act as a psychological blow against the Slayer. Send one of her friends someplace she could not go and beyond her means of recovering then regularly mess with her mind to keep her off balance. His name at the right moment, an offhand comment about the danger her might be in, could bring about her end if she wasn't careful.

Gotta get back to the gang ASAP. He thought shoving aside his hunger in favour of clocking some more miles, Buffy never thinks straight when her emotions run wild.

Here's hoping there was a major league magic user or a deity in this dimension willing to help him out for a reasonable fee.

"AAAHHH! NO!"

A woman? In trouble?!

He might not know the details but what he did know was that this was the first sound of something beyond the inhabitants of the wild that he'd encountered since waking up. Breaking into a sprint he went towards the scream hoping that in finding out why the woman was so distressed he'd gain knowledge about where he was and where he needed to go in order to return home. As he moved through the forest his eyes began to perceive the familiar flickering light of a campfire implying a temporary resting place rather than an established home. Could a wild animal of some sort be attacking her? If so then at the very least he'd be able to act as a distraction so that the woman could get away. However that was assuming there was only one animal. If there was more than one and they didn't see him as a good enough meal to be shared between them…well he'd cross that bridge when he came to it.

"Shut up! This is gonna happen whether you like it or not slave!" a rather uncouth man's voice said with frustration and aggression, "Just shut up!"

That…that he didn't like the sound of at all because it brought up dark memories he'd much prefer stayed buried in the depths of his mind. While most of Tony's shit came in the form of regular insults and the occasional beating there were a few terrible nights when his mother had become the focus of the man's evil. When he was younger he'd cover his head with his pillow to blot out the noise and when that failed he fled the house for either Willow's place or Jesse's. When he'd gotten older it only happened once a year if that but that was only because old age offered his mother a sort of protection if only from THAT sort of evil.

Some things could kill ANY mood.

Deciding to exercise some caution he slowed his pace to a crawl and crouched low in order to allow the vegetation to hide him if only a little. When he was as close as he dared to the light of the campfires he rose up just enough to see over the greenery and learn just what it was he'd be getting involved with.

Definitely not the best introduction to a new world. He thought taking in the sight before him.

He'd hoped that his earlier worries had been unfounded and that the quarrel between the man and the woman was something more tame.

He should've known better.

Laid out before him was a camp inhabited by two groups of people with one dressed in an assortment of armour with weapons of equal variation either strapped to their side or close at hand. The other group could only be described as the battered and in some cases the broken. Clad in simple clothes that'd seen better days and stained in places with blood he could tell that they were all weak and terrified with every single one wearing chain restraints of some sort. While it was possible that this was some sort of prisoner convoy between jails he doubted it ever more with every second that passed.

After all how many respectable prison guards raped their female prisoners while in transit between locations.

No matter where he looked there was a guard forcing himself on one of the chained prisoners with some ladies being unfortunate enough to be assailed by more than one. Their whimpers of misery at being forced to do something against their will, their cries of pain as the men forced something too large into something too small and when chance hated him he could see the broken look in their eyes. No matter how you sliced it this was no prison convoy but rather a caravan of slavers transporting their victims to whatever terrible owners awaited them. Worse than that the slavers were the kind that clearly didn't mind sampling the goods whenever the urge took them.

It sickened him!

They were little better than demons or vampires!

His initial inclination was to work towards freeing the ladies but practicality stepped in to remind him that he was but one while they were many. He also didn't have any weapons on him so short of persuading them with words to release all their captives before walking away the situation was grim at best. Sure he could probably steal the weapons of the slavers to arm himself and sure a few covert kills might trim the numbers more in his favour but victory would still be unlikely. They'd either swarm him with superior numbers or they'd use the slaves as hostages making it nearly impossible for him to do anything without defeating his purpose for acting in the first place. He had too little in the way of skill or resources to make a rescue of the slaves possible so much as it pained him and left no small amount of guilt in his gut he would have to leave. He took a minute to commit as many details of the slavers as he could to memory so he could pass it on to the lawful authorities once he found some. With any luck they could mount a more prepared rescue effort before the slaves suffered too much more than they already had.

"NO! LEAVE ME ALONE!" a girl cried sounding younger then the one that he'd heard earlier.

Turning his head towards the sound he beheld a sight that formed a ball and chain around his neck bigger than a school bus at the thought of leaving. Propped up only by her arms on the ground was girl in her early teens, a couple years younger than him from the looks of things, with fox ears sticking out of her dark red hair and a fox tail being dirtied by the ground she was sprawled upon. He could tell that she still wore the clothes she'd been wearing when captured but there were signs of rough treatment in the form of rips and tears. However what was more important to him was the dead man a short distance from her with obvious signs of being literally stabbed in the back. The one responsible for the backstabbing was only just now wiping the blood from his sword before sliding it back into its sheath with the sound of scraping metal. With obvious movements of the arms indicating that the betrayer was undoing his belt it didn't take even a second to figure out what was about to happen. Whether the first man had intended to do the same only to be murdered or had in fact tried to prevent the approaching violation didn't matter. All that did matter was that a despicable act was about to occur with him only having a ghost of a chance of preventing it.

As he began to force his eyes away with guilt laden regret chance had him lock gazes if only briefly with the fox girl. He could see in them the desperate plea for help, the fear and anguish in her soul, but it was what happened just before the gaze broke that sent a metaphorical lightning bolt through him. For an instant, barely enough for comprehension, the girl was replaced by a beautiful brown haired woman wearing a blue and white dress with a grey belt and sandals on her feet with an expression mirroring that of the fox girl.

It was a spark that gave birth to an inferno capable of destroying the world.

Before he fully realized what it was he was doing he found himself sprinting across the ground towards the sick asshole threatening the fox girl. Before the bastard could even turn around to identify the source of the approaching footsteps he tackled the man to the ground before beginning to rain down punch after punch to the man's face.

"YOU!"

BAM

"WILL!"

BAM

"NOT!"

BAM

"TOUCH!"

BAM

"HER!"

BBAAAMM

"Gragh!" the man growled pulling a dagger from his belt in move of desperation.

This proved to be his undoing.

Before the blade could move more than a quarter of the way towards its intended target he caught the man's arm by the wrist, wrenched the dagger free and then buried it in the man's skull. So powerful was the attack that the weapon was buried all the way to the hilt guard leaving no doubt that the blade had cut through the brain within. Akin to a puppet whose strings had been cut the rapist went limp with only a few random tremors proving any consequential movement at all. Breathing heavily from his exertion and his emotional turmoil he got back to his feet brutally pulling the dagger out of his victim's skull as he did so.

It was only once he was fully standing up that he came back to himself and realized just what he'd done.

W-what the hell?! He thought trying to put together what happened into something comprehensible.

He knew he was hardly the poster boy for thinking things through before doing anything but his earlier arguments against trying to rescue the slaves were just as valid now as they had been minutes ago. So why the HELL had he charged out into the slaver camp and brutally murdered the man that'd set eyes on raping the fox girl? He knew it had something to do with the image of the woman that'd replaced the fox girl for a few seconds but he didn't know how that could be the cause. While admittedly beautiful he had definitely not seen her before that moment so he had no reason to go off like that.

Yet he had and now he had to deal with the consequences.

Turning to the rest of the camp he could see the other slavers looking his way with some looking shocked at what'd happened while the others looked angry. Before long those not already 'engaged' with their victim began to pull swords out of their sheaths while others picked up their axes before advancing towards him. Clearly they viewed him as a threat or at least an obstacle to what they planned to do for the rest of the night and intended to permanently remove him from the equation. Numbering seven in total while the remaining five chose to stay where they were his only saving grace was that none of them looked to have a ranged weapon. It wasn't much of a good thing but at least he'd stand a better chance of defending himself up close than being arrow sniped from a distance.

Glancing quickly around he quickly found a heavy wooden shield on the ground, likely belonging to the first dead man given the short distance between the two, and quickly scooped it up. While the dagger in his hand could be confused as a short sword by those not versed in edged weaponry it still had limited range. With so many people coming at him he'd need something to intercept their blows while he used his dagger to attack or defend.

In any case though whatever bad luck dumped situations like this in his lap would probably be the only thing that'd get him through this since so far it didn't seem like it wanted to part with its favourite toy anytime soon.

Unless today turned out to be the day it finally tossed him over its shoulder to die a painful death.

Better not to think about something like that.