SCREEEEEEECH!
Sparks flew everywhere as the carriage skidded across the pavement like a sled, carving a deep groove into the stone. The sudden stop jerked the Iron-Hide Oxen violently, snapping their harnesses. The beasts ran off in panic, leaving the shattered vehicle behind.
The carriage slid for another twenty meters before finally coming to a smoking halt.
Dust and smoke billowed around the wreckage.
Step. Step. Step.
Lysander walked calmly through the debris, holstering his guns. The two drivers had been thrown off during the crash and were lying unconscious or worse in the ditch. Lysander ignored them.
He walked up to the Reinforced Carriage.
The door was locked with heavy iron bars.
"Open," Lysander commanded.
He grabbed the iron door with his gauntleted hand. The hydraulic servos in his armor whined.
CREAK... SNAP!
He ripped the door off its hinges as if it were made of cardboard and tossed it aside.
Inside, the Centaur woman was huddled in the corner. The impact of the crash had thrown her against the wall.
She looked up at the towering black figure standing in the smoke, his red eyes glowing. She was terrified. To her, he looked like the God of Death coming to claim her soul.
"P-Please..." she whimpered, her voice barely a whisper.
Her eyes rolled back into her head.
Overwhelmed by shock and fear, she slumped forward, fainting instantly.
Lysander caught her before she hit the floor.
"Troublesome," Lysander sighed, looking at the unconscious Centaur in his arms. "Now I have to carry her"
Lysander stood amidst the wreckage of the carriage, holding the upper body of the unconscious woman. Now that the smoke was clearing, he realized the sheer scale of the being he had just caught.
She was heavy. incredibly heavy.
"System," Lysander grunted, his armor's servos whining under the load. "What is she? She is twice the size of a normal Centaur"
Ding!
[ANALYSIS COMPLETE]
[Race: Centaur-Kin]
[Sub-Species: Equus Giganteus](Ancient Giant Tribe).
[Rarity: SSS] (Critically Endangered).
[This tribe is known for their immense physical strength and size, often used as heavy cavalry in ancient wars]
[The males of this species are nearly extinct due to genetic defects. Females are highly prized by Slavers and Collectors for
"breeding" or as gladiator champions]
"I see," Lysander muttered, looking down at her. "So she was captured because she is a rare trophy"
He took a moment to inspect her condition. Even in her unconscious state, she was a masterpiece of biological engineering—a creature built for war, now reduced to a prisoner.
Her upper body was not soft or delicate. She possessed the physique of an Amazonian general. Her skin was a deep, sun-kissed bronze. Her stomach was defined by a rock-hard six-pack of abdominals, rippling with raw power even as she breathed. Her shoulders were broad and scarred from battle.
Her lower body was that of a massive Midnight-Black Clydesdale—thick, powerful legs with feathered hooves the size of dinner plates. Her coat was glossy but matted with dirt and dried blood.
She wore the rags of a slave, designed to humiliate rather than cover. A tattered, dirty strip of rough burlap was wrapped tightly around her massive chest, barely containing her form. Her lower equine body was naked, save for a heavy, rusted iron chain belt locked around her horse-waist, which dragged on the ground.
She was a breathtaking mix of beauty and raw, intimidating violence. Yet, seeing such a powerful creature bound in chains made Lysander's blood boil.
"We can't stay here," Lysander decided.
"The smell of blood will attract monsters"
He shifted his stance.
Lifting a Centaur was not like lifting a human. She weighed over a ton—mostly muscle and bone. A normal man would have been crushed instantly.
"Power Output: Maximum," Lysander commanded his suit.
HISS... WHIRRR.
The Abyssal Vanguard Armor roared to life. The crimson lines on his chest plate glowed brightly as the magitech hydraulics in his arms and legs surged with mana.
He slid his left arm under her human back and his right arm under the massive barrel of her equine chest, just behind her front legs.
"Up"
CLANK.
With a groan of metal, Lysander lifted the Titaness off the ground.
It was an awkward carry—her back legs dragged slightly on the stone road—but he held her main weight firmly. Her massive head lolled against his armored shoulder, her long dark mane spilling over his blue cloak.
She felt like a mountain in his arms. A warm, breathing mountain.
"You are heavy," Lysander whispered to the unconscious warrior. "But don't worry. I will carry the weight"
He turned away from the wreckage, holding the massive Centaur beauty like a sleeping princess, and began to walk toward the grassy plains, away from the main road. The two unconscious slavers were left behind in the ditch, their fate left to the wolves.
Lysander carried the massive Titaness off the main road, moving deep into the tall grass until he found a secluded spot near the treeline.
There, beneath the roots of a massive ancient oak, was a small, natural hollow—a cave-like shelter perfect for hiding.
Thud.
He gently lowered her onto the soft earth. She groaned in her sleep, her breathing ragged. The iron chains around her wrists and massive horse-body dug into her skin, leaving raw, red marks.
"First, these need to go," Lysander muttered.
He drew his Twin-Star Mana Revolvers. He didn't need a key.
BANG! CLANG!
With surgical precision, two violet mana bullets struck the locking mechanisms of the manacles. The iron shattered instantly, falling away from her bruised wrists.
"Now to heal her..."
Lysander checked his pockets. Empty. He checked his System balance.
[SP: 200]
"Damn it," Lysander cursed. "I spent everything on the armor. I can't afford a
High-Grade Potion"
He paused.
"Wait. The Quest"
"System," Lysander asked, his voice irritated. "Where is my reward? I intercepted the cart. I secured the cargo. Give me the SP so I can heal her"
Ding!
[MISSION STATUS: INCOMPLETE]
[Objective: Eliminate the Drivers]
[Status: Targets are alive]
[Reward: Locked]
Lysander's eye twitched behind his mask.
"Oh... right. I forgot to kill the trash"
He stood up, the hydraulic servos in his legs hissing.
"Stay here," he whispered to the unconscious Centaur. "I'll be right back"
Back at the crash site, the two slavers were finally stirring. They crawled out of the ditch, coughing and wiping blood from their faces.
"My head..." the fat driver groaned, looking at the shattered remains of the carriage.
"Where... where is the beast?"
The other driver, a skinny man with a broken nose, scanned the empty road. His face went pale.
"She's gone! The cage is empty!"
"No! No, no, no!" the fat man screamed, grabbing his hair. "Do you know how much the Client paid in advance? That Centaur was a special order! She was for the Duke's Son! He wanted a Gladiator Champion!"
"If we go back without her, the Duke will skin us alive!" the skinny driver trembled. "That armored freak... he took her! We have to find him! We have to—"
"You have to do what?"
A deep, distorted voice cut through their panic like a blade.
The two men froze. They slowly turned around.
Standing in the middle of the road, bathed in the afternoon sun, was the black-armored nightmare. Zero.
"You two are surprisingly energetic for people who just crashed," Lysander said, walking toward them slowly. "I should have checked your pulses earlier. My mistake"
The fat driver scrambled back, reaching for a dagger on his belt.
"You!" he shrieked, pointing a shaking finger at Lysander. "You have no idea what you've done! That Centaur belongs to the House of Valerius! The Duke's son has been waiting months for her!"
"Give her back!" the skinny driver yelled, trying to sound tough but failing miserably.
"If you steal from the Duke, you will be hunted down by the entire Kingdom! You're dead, do you hear me? Dead!"
Lysander stopped five meters away. He tilted his head.
"The Duke?" Lysander repeated, his voice bored. "Is that supposed to scare me?"
"It should!" the fat man spat. "You are just a bandit in fancy armor! The Duke has mages! He has knights! Give us the Centaur, and maybe... maybe we won't report your face to the Guild!"
Lysander raised his right hand. The Twin-Star Revolver materialized in his grip.
"We'll see about that," Lysander said coldly.
"But right now, you should worry about your own heads, not the Duke's property"
"Wait—!"
The drivers' eyes widened. They tried to run.
They tried to beg.
It was too late.
BANG! BANG!
Two thunderous shots echoed across the plains.
The drivers didn't even have time to scream. Two holes appeared in the center of their foreheads. Their bodies collapsed backward onto the stone road, silenced forever.
Ding!
[MISSION COMPLETE]
[Objective: Eliminate Slaver Drivers 2/2]
[Reward: 1,000 SP + Basic First Aid Kit]
Lysander lowered his gun, watching the smoke drift from the barrel.
"Finally"
He turned around and walked back toward the forest, leaving the corpses for the vultures.
"Now I can heal her"