Barbarian's Path To Multiversal Domination Chapter 1: Demon Vs Demon

“Dennis, you think you're a big man, don't you?”

The young man in question, Dennis, was surrounded by four men around his age. Despite the odds… his almost sadistic smile unsettled the wannabe roadmen.

“Four against one is almost fair for you lot.” 

He remarked, chuckling as his feet remained steady, ‘dancing’ from one step to the next.

“Cocky cunt… batter him!”

“Wallahi, I'll bang him!”

They all came at him at once, albeit in a very messy fashion. Dennis was able to evade the one behind him and threw the boy into the rest with one powerful front kick that sent him to the floor.

“My back… my back…” The young man, goon 4, cried.

“Are you even trying, bro?” Dennis blinked with an unamused expression. 

“Tss.”

Goon 1 kissed his teeth, charging forward. Dennis sidestepped and gave him a left hook that separated his soul from his body. Bruddah dropped to the floor in less than a second.

“What the fuck… is he dead?” Goon 2 was pissing himself.

“Fuck knows,” Dennis replied with a nonchalant tone.

“Nah… I ain't doing this shit.” Goon 2 turned around and dipped as fast as he could. “You’re fucking crazy.”

Goon 3 and 4 didn't like their chances anymore.

“So…” Dennis cleared his throat. “Are we doing this still?”

“... We’ll be back.” Goon 3 promised. “You'll pay for what you did.”

“Yeah, okay.” Dennis nodded. “Make sure to bring like… at least ten guys. Four is just too easy and boring. I want a real fight.”

The guys looked at him as if he were a monster before dashing away.

Suddenly, his phone rang. It was the classic Nokia sound. He whipped out his Nokia Brick and saw that his ‘girlfriend’, Grace, was calling. He rolled his eyes and answered.

“What's good?”

“Where the hell are you?”

“Someplace,” Dennis replied simply, looking around. “The usual dodgy alleyway.”

“You got into another fight?”

"You could say that, yeah.”

“Of course…” She sighed. “That’s all you ever want to do. Fight, fight and fight.”

“Don’t forget training, sparring and eating,” Dennis added with a slight smile. “Sleeping too.”

“... You never change.” She chuckled. “Anyway… do you know what day it is?”

“Tuesday?” Dennis scratched his messy black hair.

“Yes, it is a Tuesday.” She sounded a little annoyed. “There’s something else about today…”

“It’s…” Dennis checked his phone. “The 15th of May?”

“... You really don’t know, do you? You’ve had three times to remember it.” She sighed. “It’s our anniversary, dummy.”

“Oooh.”

“Oooooh.” She mocked, imitating his voice.

“Just another day, really. What’s so special about the day we met?”

“Sometimes I wonder if you’re really dumb as a brick, act like it or really don’t care about me at all.”

“Well, anyway-”

“Don’t you dare hang up-”

“-I got training to do.” 

Dennis hung up on her and put his phone in his pocket.

Then he looked down at the guy he had knocked out, checking his pulse.

‘He’s not dead…’ He smiled slightly. ‘Just said goodnight a little early.’

He stepped over him and started the run to his gym. 

…

As usual, Dennis would train relentlessly and sweat an ocean’s worth in the dirtiest gym around. It looked like it was a bad day away from collapsing entirely. Even so, most of the people there were like-minded. They weren’t there just for fun. They weren’t scared of being punched and didn’t come just to hit the pads a few times; most of them had aspirations of becoming pro boxers. Some already were.

In an ‘average’ gym, Dennis wouldn’t be able to find a single person willing to fight him…

It was different here.

Even though he was their best amateur by far, the pros would always be there to humble him… and push him to be better, too. The best of the lot was Johnny Davis, whose speed allowed him to evade Dennis’ thunderous punches and jab away at him. He was an upcoming undefeated pro with a 10-0 record.

“Dennis, come up there with Johnny. Let’s see if you improved from last time.”

They were doing a full twelve-round spar.

The first few rounds were in favour of Johnny, who played it safe and hunted for points. Dennis hated that way of boxing specifically… almost as much as clinchers. He was a brawler, more than ready to take a beating and counter with lethal blows of his own. 

Alas… Johnny set the tone for the match, as any pro would.

Jab, jab, slip… BANG.

Johnny punched Dennis in the gut full-force, leading to him staggering back. Then Johnny continued with a right hook, sending him down to the canvas. Dennis almost immediately got up, shaking his head. The trainer put up three fingers, making sure he was ready to fight still.

“Three.” 

Dennis took a deep breath, a flame lighting up in his hazel eyes. His heart was beating rapidly; his blood rushed like the lava of a raging volcano. He didn’t think anymore… he just wanted his get back… and he was going to get it, no matter what.

He slipped forward, dodging Johnny’s next jab. Johnny stepped back hurriedly, but Dennis cut him off at the corner of the ring like a predator trapping its prey. 

Like a thunderous hammer, he aimed a haymaker straight for Johnny’s head.

Johnny ducked his head, almost tripping down.

Before he had the time to steady himself, Dennis struck a right hook that flew in the blink of an eye.

BANG.

It was like taking a rocket launcher to the head… bro was not ready.

Johnny collapsed to the floor.

“Fucking hell.” The trainer, Ebenezer Scrooge, cursed as he walked over and checked on Johnny. “Johnny’s out for the day.”

He finally beat him…

Dennis smiled, taking pride in his victory.

‘Fucking finally…’

“That’s one way to come back from a fight, lad. You might just be ready for the big leagues. Just need a bit more work on defence, keeping your cool and accuracy. You get hit too much, and that really starts costing you in later rounds.” Ebenezer advised. “You’re a tough kid, sure, but that’s no excuse to have a battered face in every fight against a better boxer.”

“I’ll work on it.” He nodded.

He sparred with several other opponents, taking a more defensive approach. Then he did some weights and other training exercises. By the end of it all, he smelt like he hadn’t seen water in a year. This gym didn’t have a shower, either… nor did he care all that much about it. Bro just picked up his stuff and dipped during the night.

He checked his phone.

[69 missed calls.]

All of them were from his girlfriend…

He decided to call back.

“What’s up?” He asked.

“Nothing is up, nothing at all.” She sighed. “My ‘boyfriend’ is a useless hunk of muscle with rocks for a brain who doesn’t take me out, hasn’t bought me any flowers in all the time that we’ve known each other… and hasn’t even fucked me for a week! What good are you, Dennis?”

“... You could always break up with me if you-”

“-This is the part where you say, ‘Forgive me, My Lady, I shall bring you a bouquet of roses immediately and give you all the attention that you so desperately crave’.”

“... Can’t you buy your own flowers?”

“Of course, dummy. I could buy myself a thousand roses every single day of the week.” She sighed. “It’s the principle that counts… is it so strange to want my boyfriend to show that he cares about me once in a while?”

“Sorry.” Dennis blinked. “I’m not that good of a boyfriend, I probably won’t ever be… I just want to focus on myself-”

“What the hell are you saying?”

“A woman like you deserves better… so, if you really do feel that way, you can just break up with me-”

“I don’t want to hear any of that, dumbass.” She rolled her eyes over the phone. “Just get your ass over to my apartment ASAP. Zero excuses, you hear me?”

She hung up on Dennis, leaving him slightly confused.

‘Are all women like this?’

One thing about Dennis that you may or may not have noticed… is that he is a man of sheer focus and commitment. He has chosen a path, a goal… to be the best fighter in the entire world. Fighting is what gets his blood pumping, it is his purpose for existing.

That is why, despite having a girlfriend that many dream for, he isn't head over heels for her… and may even seem indifferent to her completely.

That is also… what makes her want him even more.

…

Dennis made his way to her apartment, running the entire way instead of taking any form of transport… not that he had much money on him to begin with. Even so, a second spent training is a second well used for Dennis.

When he made it to the reception, the person at the desk covered his mouth from Dennis’ overwhelming… manly odour. When he came closer, it was too much, and the man quite literally fainted. Dennis blinked with a clueless expression.

‘Maybe I do need a shower…’

He made his way to Grace’s apartment, having done so quite a number of times before. 

~

Dennis whipped out his key and unlocked Grace’s apartment, walking in and closing the door behind him.

It was beyond luxurious, the apartment equivalent of a mansion. The lights were a romantic crimson, leaving a good portion of the space quite dark. Dennis took off his shoes and put on his Crocs, proceeding to walk to the living room.

“The barbarian returns to his Queen’s castle.” 

She remarked, laid out on the massive coach. Her choice of attire was an enticing and rich black dress with somewhat of an old aesthetic resembling the Medieval ages. Grace herself was beyond beautiful, with majestic and wavy golden hair and cat-green eyes that shined like emeralds. She has a slender, graceful and tall figure with unblemished white skin. Her full breasts were threatening to break free from the tight dress, and that handful of an ass wasn't anything to scoff at, either.

She was the complete package, a beauty that could stun and haunt ordinary men for a lifetime.

“Is that the roleplay this time?” Dennis stepped closer, casually sitting down on the couch.

“... God, you stink.” She turned away slightly. “As usual.”

“I do like the showers here… might as well take a cold one-”

“No, no… it's perfect.” Grace grabbed his arm and sat him down.

“Perfect?” Dennis blinked. “Make up your mind.”

“I never told you to take a shower, dummy. I was just taken back by your overwhelming, manly…. odour.” She grinned slightly, sitting up. “It's been waaaay too long.”

“A week isn’t even that long.”

“Seven days without my pookie bear feels like seven years.” Grace sighed, throwing herself to his side. “You don’t understand how lonely it gets without you…”

Dennis’ stomach suddenly rumbled… very loudly, at that.

“Do you have food?” Dennis questioned, ignoring her statement. “I’m hungry.”

“... I can tell that much from the sound you just made.” Grace smiled, gesturing to the kitchen. “I’ve prepared a royal feast just for you in the kitchen.”

“Thanks.” Dennis got up and went straight there.

‘One must wine and dine the bear first…’ Grace thought to herself, fixing her hair and standing up.

Ten minutes later…

Dennis would consume everything in sight like a black hole with his bare hands, filling his seemingly unquenchable hunger and thirst at a rapid pace. Grace simply watched, having a sip of her wine from time to time. 

“Buuurp.” Dennis let out a loud one, sitting back. “Damn, that turkey was some good shit.”

“You really don’t care about how you present yourself, do you?” Grace chuckled.

“Am I supposed to grab a little fork and play around with my food for half an hour?” Dennis questioned, wiping his mouth with his hand. “I don’t have the time for that.”

“You’re right… your time would be better spent playing with me.” Grace smiled rather deviously.

“You can’t stop being horny, huh.” Dennis grinned slightly, feeling a lot more relaxed after downing a bottle of vodka previously.

“You made me this way, Dennis.”

“Did I?” He blinked innocently.

“Yes, it’s totally your fault.” She looked into his eyes, biting her lip slightly as she imagined it. “You broke me with that large, girthy rod you have between your legs… your strong grip as you took hold of my body… your brutish, forceful, nature as you did whatever you liked with little helpless me…”

“Have you tried therapy?” Dennis questioned, smiling slightly.

“Therapy?” Grace chuckled, standing up. “From the moment you took me… there was no going back. Nothing could fill the whole you left inside me.”

She walked up to his seat and sat on top of him.

“Where is the Dennis I want, hmm?” She touched the side of his face with her right hand, grasping his black hair with her left. “You say you want to be a warrior, the strongest fighter in the world… but do you know what real fighters did in the past? They weren’t dancing around with padded gloves.”

Dennis knew plenty well what warriors in the past were capable of… it was his obsession, after all. He dreamed of those battles where thousands of men clashed in a field of grass that would be painted red in the aftermath. Where he could fight, fight, fight… and fight… until he killed everything in his way or someone killed him.

“Yeah… what about it? They used swords, spears, axes, hammers… where do you see people fighting with swords nowadays? Fencing tournaments?” Dennis chuckled. “What the hell do you want me to do? If a gladiator arena opened, I’d be the first man to sign up.”

“Of course, you’re ready to fight… but that’s not my point. Yes, they killed each other. But do you know what they did after that?” Grace smiled. “They came down and took whatever they wanted; gold, treasure, land… women. True warriors would be able to satisfy many of them at once… whether they wanted it or not.”

“Is that what you dream about?”

“Partly- except the man that takes me is always you… after leaving a mountain of corpses in your wake.”

“... You have more than a couple screws loose,” Dennis remarked.

“As much as the guy who is both a sadist and a masochist.” Grace chuckled. “You were born at the wrong time, Dennis… the softest age of man, where we all act civilised and ‘peaceful’... denying our very nature. A time when ‘men’ act like women and even attempt to become them, where men are taught to be weak and torn down for being remotely aggressive.”

“You are a monster… but you always have to suppress yourself… because that’s what the world around you wants.” Grace frowned slightly. “You would be expelled from school to school, being told off time and time again for acting even slightly out of line… until you were programmed into a good little boy. Am I wrong?”

Dennis recalled all the brawls he got into when he was younger, how violent, unhinged and unruly he had been…

“So?”

“... Don’t you want to change that? Don’t you want to be free?”

“Yes…”

“Then stop acting like a castrated donkey… and rape me.”

“... Really?”

It wasn’t exactly the embodiment of true, romantic, love… or rather, how it would be portrayed. Despite his rugged exterior, Dennis was somewhat of a sweetheart and ‘pure’ individual. He originally wanted to wait until marriage to have sex as it wasn’t exactly something that he couldn’t live without.

Well, that was until Grace influenced him…

“Yes… don’t kink shame me now, Dennis.” She giggled rather excitedly, pressing herself against him. “I want you to rip this fancy dress to shreds, push me against the table and mount me like a sex slave. Fuck my mouth, pussy, ass, tits, choke me, spit on me, break me… do whatever you want with my body until I’m nothing but a jumbling mess. Spread your delicious, stinking, white cum all over me and then do it all over again…”

“That’s what I want…” Grace smiled deviously. “Can’t you grant this one request for me?”

“Is it rape if you want it?”

“Don’t get all philosophical on me.” Grace chuckled. “Just do it.”

Dennis pushed her onto the table, freeing himself. He stood up and did some stretches, cracking a few bones. His neck, arms, knuckles… while not speaking a word. Grace knew exactly what this meant. She hopped off the table and suddenly changed her expression to that of a helpless maiden.

“... W-what are you doing here?” 

Dennis turned to her, his hazel eyes burning like flame. 

“Making myself at home.” 

He stepped closer, grabbing an unopened bottle of Vodka and popping that bitch open. He downed the entire thing in quite literally ten seconds before throwing the bottle straight to the wall.

“... You beast…” 

Grace turned away and ran.

“As usual, you put some bullshit in my fucking Vodka to get me all riled up…” Dennis grinned, feeling very, very, hot as his sex drive began to awaken from its dormant state. “You blonde slut.”

“Get out of my house… or I’ll call 999.”

She took out her phone and pretended to call 999 when Dennis slapped her so hard she fell to the ground. He kicked away her phone and lowered himself slightly, grabbing her by the neck. He raised himself back up, holding Grace so that she was facing him directly.

“Wearing a dress like this, flaunting your large breasts… you’re begging for it, aren’t you?”

A slight smile surfaced on Grace’s expression before it was replaced by one of horror.

“W-what are you talking about, you barbarian?” She began to struggle for air. “This is… normal attire for a queen-”

“A Queen, huh?” Dennis chuckled, letting go. She fell back down to the ground and struggled up. 

“What… do you want with me?” She kept to herself, looking away from him.

“What’s a woman like you good for, hmm?” Dennis reached out and grabbed her chin, bringing it closer and making her face him. He slapped her with his free hand. “You answer me when I ask questions.”

“... I… know how to rule a kingdom-”

He slapped her again.

“Wrong.” Dennis let go of her neck, removing his belt and unzipping his pants. The very thing Grace had been dreaming about all week shined before her like the Holy Grail. “The only thing you’re good for is serving me… your King.”

“... How vulgar-” She shook her head. “I would never… I’m married… and you’re not the King-”

“I will be.” Dennis grinned as he grabbed her by the hair and brought her head closer. “This’ll shut you up for a while.”

She helplessly struggled on and on, but it was for nought… after a few minutes, she had started taking the full strokes of his large cock. Dennis was relentless, only stopping to release an enormous amount of cum inside of her mouth.

“Seven days’ worth…” Dennis chuckled. “You better swallow all of it, you lucky bitch.”

“... Disgusting-” She spat it all out. “I would never subjugate myself to a stinking barbarian’s seed… never…”

“Never? We’ll see about that.”

Dennis retained his grin, taking her by the wrist to the bedroom. He tossed her down to the queen-sized bed and prepared to ravage his girlfriend when he saw a cardboard cut-out of a king. He had a flabbergasted expression on his face.

“What the fuck is that?” Dennis chuckled, raising an eyebrow.

“My precious King, Antonio… protect me~”

Dennis went over and ripped it to shreds with ease.

“Noo… how could this be… my King… my precious… Antonio…” Grace crawled down to the ground, trying to pick up the pieces. She even pretended to cry. “How could you do this… you heartless, callous, demonic… monster.”

“Maybe don’t marry a cardboard cutout.” 

“A cardboard… cutout?” Grace sniffled. “Antonio was a kind, loving and caring man. A King who treated all his subjects well, from the highest of nobles to the lowest of beggars… how dare you call him that…”

Dennis grabbed her arm again, raising Grace up. With his free hand, he had several firm grabs of her breasts.

“Big breasts. Dennis like.” He adopted barbarian speech, accepting the role. “Dennis grope.”

“Get your hands off me, you-”

He suddenly grabbed the top of her dress and tore through, revealing her bare breasts. Grace’s eyes widened as Dennis lowered his head and started relentlessly sucking on one nipple while tightly grasping the other breast.

Grace pretended to struggle, hitting his head… but this only made him more excited and forceful. He even bit into her nipple when she ramped up the struggle.

“You dare… bite me…”

Dennis licked all over her nipple like a vacuum, ignoring Grace’s ‘struggles’. After he removed his mouth, his saliva remained. He then pushed her down onto the bed and restrained both of her arms with his right hand.

It was then that she started kicking him, managing a hit to the dick.

“Ooh… you…”

She then kicked him in the face, and he stumbled back a step.

“Why do you keep struggling, you whore?” Dennis grinned slightly, grabbing her legs the next time she tried to kick him. “You know you want this… you want me inside of you… to reach places that your little Antonio couldn’t.”

“... No… stop-”

“You’re mine… you belong to me…” Dennis spoke with the voice of a tyrant. “And you… always will.”

He let go of her legs and flipped her over. Afterwards, he ripped apart the lower half of her dress and ripped off her panties before roughly shoving his cock right inside of her.

“Oooooh~”

Grace’s emerald eyes widened in sheer euphoria.

It was then that everything changed…

Dennis stepped back as he began to see visions of battles… countless battles… the flames of war, the blood of the innocent, the cries of the defeated, the roars of the victors…

“Send more men… we need more men!”

A gate had opened… and he reached out.

~

The first thing he saw was a towering figure, horned like a demon, with a mighty warhammer in his hand…

He had raised it above his head, aiming to crush the helpless prince beneath him.

‘Is this a dream?’

Dennis was in a levy’s attire… holding a spear.

He threw that bitch right at Robert Baratheon, the antlered demon.

Robert noticed the spear and dodged it.

‘It feels real.’

‘A traitor?’ Robert recognised Dennis’ armour as a levy from the stormlands.

Dennis looked at the ground and realised that he had no weapons to choose from… so he went ahead and fought like he always did; with his fists.

He ran straight at Robert Baratheon without a single ounce of fear… no, he was the opposite of afraid. He was burning with excitement.

Rhaegar’s violet eyes widened in shock as Dennis charged in.

Robert swung his warhammer when Dennis was within reach… who blocked the blow with his left arm.

Blocked isn’t quite the right word…

He sacrificed that bitch to Robert’s warhammer, using his body to deflect the weapon and open way for the right…

BANG.

He punched Robert straight in the face, leading to him stumbling a few steps.

It was a manoeuvre that only an absolutely bat-shit insane person would do… which Dennis most certainly was.

Suffice it to say, his left arm was completely finished.

Even so… Dennis wore a grin on his face.

“Damn, you hit hard… I can’t even feel my arm.” 

“What in Seven Hells…” Rhaegar muttered, grabbing his sword and getting off his knees.

Even Robert was taken aback.

He turned to Dennis, raising an eyebrow. 

Throwing his spear, dashing towards him, sacrificing one arm to land a Superman punch with the other… what kind of fighting style was this? He hadn’t seen anything remotely like it.

And then… he had the balls to grin despite the overwhelming pain he should be feeling.

“Stand aside, young man. You’ve done enough.” Rhaegar put on a brave face. “This duel is mine own.”

“Weren’t you on your knees three seconds ago?” Dennis glanced back.

“Argh!”

Robert raised his Warhammer and swung it against Dennis, who once again used his wounded left side to open the way for another right hook. 

BANG.

This time, Dennis comboed up with a kick to Robert’s left side. A blow that didn’t do all that much.

“Armour is for fucking pussies.” Dennis remarked.

Robert swung again, and Dennis used his footwork to get out of the way. He continued taking advantage of his advanced footwork, narrowingly dodging Robert’s following swings. Even so, the reach advantage was too great to counter with anything.

“Fight me like a man, hand to hand, you motherfucker.” Dennis cursed. “I only have one arm, so there isn’t much to be afraid of, is there?”

Robert kept swinging…

‘This fucker is fast…’

BANG.

Robert caught Dennis lacking, smashing his warhammer against his chest. Dennis collapsed to the ground from the force… leaving Robert to face against Rhaegar once again. 

‘Augh…’

Dennis’ head buzzed in pain as he saw the two facing each other, knight against warrior. Crown Prince against the rebel. Despite not dealing much damage on the surface, Robert had clearly slowed down while Rhaegar got a second wind. The two continued their duel in earnest, with Rhaegar having the slightest of advantages.

‘Fight…’ Dennis thought, willing his broken body to crawl. ‘Fight…’

‘Fight…’

‘Fight…’

‘Fight!!!’’

He struggled up, grabbing the spear he had thrown earlier. Though, as he was about to return to the main fight, he heard footsteps of soldiers behind him. He turned to see, watching as five soldiers surrounded him.

“Kill him and aid Prince Rhaegar!”

Dennis laughed, not giving a single shit about his allegiance. He was fighting everyone.

“Hahahaha… you twerps aren’t even worth killing!” 

He roared, grasping his spear tightly and throwing it like a javelin.

PIERCE.

The spear went through its intended target, dropping the green boy to the ground. While the rest hesitated, Dennis charged in like a madman to grab the fallen soldier’s weapon. They slashed at him… but he threw himself to the ground and grasped the spear. He thrust it into the nearest peasant with all his strength, turning and rolling out of the way of the others.

He managed to get back on his feet, stumbling slightly.

“Damn bastard… I’ll kill you!!!” 

One of them charged in with a sword, enraged by the loss of their comrade. He started swinging wildly, missing every slash. Dennis countered with a right hook and managed to disarm the soldier, taking his sword. He then slashed him apart. 

However, while he had been doing that, the other two had gone around him and surrounded Dennis. 

He had taken a spear thrust to the chest… and a second one right after.

“Fucking… pussies…” Dennis forced himself forward out of the spear points, turning with the gaze of an enraged demon. “I’ll… KILL!”

His roar startled them, giving him the opportunity to stab into one of them and slash at the other… but not before being stabbed himself.

He pushed off the soldier, glancing at the spear in his chest.

He dropped his sword and forced it out, watching the three holes in his body leak blood like a river.

“Well, shit…” 

He chuckled madly, turning to see Robert being defeated.

“This… was fun.”

His dream… had come true.

He fell to his knees and collapsed shortly after as his body finally gave out.

[Congratulations, you levelled up!]