《A Time of Tigers - From Peasant to Emperor》


 Chapter 1: VOLUME ONE - PART ONE: THE SEIZING OF GREAT POWER

    <h4>Chapter 1: VOLUME ONE - PART ONE: THE SEIZING OF GREAT POWER</h4>


    VOLUME ONE - PART ONE: THE SEIZING OF GREAT POWER


    Dedicated to all the boys and girls struggling out there. Your day wille - stay strong!


    Chapter 1 ¨C The Cursed Child


    As with the forging of all swords, it began with mes.


    In a single night, everything that our young hero owned was taken from him. Under the cover of darkness, eight-year-old Beam, hiding behind the only piece of furniture in their tiny dirt hut ¨C a table ¨C was pierced by a spear.


    He knew not where the spear came from, only that it pierced his side and grazed his liver. Dark blood welled up from the wound, and it was only a few momentster that he lost consciousness.


    When he awoke, he had nothing. Not even his health. With his stomach covered in dirty bandages, hey upon the hard, dusty earth of a foreign ce.


    Even before anyone had told him, he knew his predicament. The fact that he was here, in a ce that he didn''t know, with no familiar faces around him, and with his wound tended to, could only mean one thing. He''d been picked up by medical profiteers. Renege merchant doctors that went from battlefield to battlefield, searching the corpses for anyone yet alive that they might put in their debt.


    Of course, a child had no money for which to pay them, leading to a fate that to many was worse than death. very, until he could pay off what he owed.


    It took him four years to rid himself of that debt, and escape the poisonous clutches of those travelling wartime merchant doctors.


    It took him another year to find a vige that would let a stranger like him in, and give him work.


    And then another year after that before he could afford a hut of his own in which to live, and enough food to get him through the week.


    And yet another year after that before he grew bored and dissatisfied.


    And so, just after his fifteenth birthday was when Beam had enough respite from the misfortunes of the world to feel the mes of ambition licking at his heart. It was a curse that the vige Elders knew well. The callings of the Dark God Ingolsol, inviting a mortal with potential to pursue a reckless path, hoping for their failure, so just before their blossom could bloom, the raven could feast on their potential.


    So begins our tale, in the vige of Solgrim, south of the towering ck mountains, in the centre of many rolling ins.


    ¡­


    ¡­


    It began on what should have been an ordinary day ¨C a pleasant day even. At least,pared to what he had endured in the past.


    Spade in hand, three feet beneath the ground, he dug.


    He was used to his job by now, and his movements appeared effortless. He stabbed his sharp spade into the hard earth using hardly any of his strength, and then he tossed the mud over his shoulder with an ease that approached contempt.


    Two hours into his eight-hour shift, he was already covered from head to toe in mud. This was his second hole of the day, and yet he continued to work tirelessly.


    "Oy, Beam. Leave the hole for a second, I need to have a word with you."


    Beam didn''t hear him. Every single person in their twenty-man cell of diggers was at least 5 years his elder. He didn''t have anything inmon with any of them. Every single one of them had been born in this vige, and very few of them had ever seen true conflict. The majority had families to go back to, and reasons to work as hard as they were forced to.


    That was not true for Beam. The only reason he worked was for sustenance. And to keep a roof over his head. In short, he worked to go on living. He figured he owed that to his family, for it was he who lived in their ce. He had to live as best he could so that they wouldn''t worry about him, even if that life was tough and even if he had to endure the worst of conditions just to continue it.


    He was determined to struggle, no matter what, for he valued the life that he had kept. His goal was to go beyond mere struggle and to get to the point where his family could even be proud of him. But progress was slow and the days were hard. After two years in the vige, he still didn''t have a lot to show for it.


    "Beam! I said I want a word." The foreman said again.


    Beam still didn''t hear him, even as he shouted. He waspletely lost in his own thoughts, only continuing to work. He worked shirtless, therge scar on his stomach rippling with every movement of the spade.


    He liked that scar. He was proud of that scar. Because that scar meant he lived. That scar was proof of the suffering that he had endured. But that scar wasn''t enough.


    At first, for many years, the hollow hole left by the death of his family had run deep. It had left him with aching wounds of the heart that none could tend to, save for time.


    He''d loved his family deeply. His mother had been kind and caring. She''d made sure that he''d never wanted for anything.


    His father too, in his own way had expressed his own kind of concern for his son''s well-being, and made sure he was protected.


    His little sister who followed him around like a puppy, showering him with unconditional love and reverence¡­ He might have missed her the most of all. For her to be ughtered so ruthlessly ¨C the very thought of it still brought his anger to the boil. For those raiders to be so callous as to cut down a harmless child without a second thought¡­ There could be no better cause for vengeance. No better reason for taking up the sword.

 Chapter 2: The Cursed Child - Part 2

    <h4>Chapter 2: The Cursed Child - Part 2</h4>


    "THAT''S IT! OUT!"


    He felt a massive hand reach down and grab his arm, dragging him out of his ever-deepening hole. He didn''t really have the strength to resist. The man, Loz, was twenty years his elder. Bald, stocky and mean-looking, with enough weight to give him the strength of two men. And there was anger in his eyes.


    "What?" Beam asked.


    Loz sighed. "You''re good with a spade boy, but sometimes I question what''s going on in that head of yours¡­ The boss sent word earlier. There''s enough coin for two promotions. He said to give it out to whoever''s getting the most work done, and given that you''re doing nearly double that of anyone else, I figured you deserved it more than most."


    Beam''s eyes widened with surprise and he had to fight hard to stop his mouth from curving into a smile. It was rare that good things happened to him. It was rare that his efforts were rewarded and that he was made to feel his struggle was truly worth it.


    Loz noticed the smile and he began smiling too, despite how grizzled he was. Beam was something of an outcast ¨C he rarely spoke and most who saw him avoided him, thinking him to be dark and gloomy. But Loz thought a little differently. He saw the scars on the boy''s body just as everyone else did, yet he also saw the light in his eyes, the look of a boy who still had not given up. Though most could not see such a quality, Loz connected with it. Without ever saying a word, he was silently rooting for Beam to do well.


    "I say promotion, but it isn''t much. You''re going up from ten coppers a month up to twelve. If it was up to me, you''d be getting paid more for the amount ofbour you put in, but it''s just the way things go I suppose," Loz said.


    But even upon hearing the size of his promotion, Beam''s smile didn''t fade. He valued the small things more than anyone Loz had ever met. And of course he would. For a boy who had truly lost everything at one point ¨C his family and his freedom and even his health ¨C the small things counted, they truly did.


    ¡­


    ¡­


    The sky darkened above him as Beam wandered through the vige marketce, still struggling to hide his smile from his fresh promotion ¨C it had taken him two years of struggle and toil to earn that measly amount of progress after all, and he was pleased to finally see his struggle paying off.


    At this time of day, just after work, the market was more than lively. Beautiful women grasped the shoulders of hardworking men, whispering into their ears seductively, begging that they be allowed to relieve them of the stresses of the day.


    Of course, such beautiful women did not do such things merely for fun. They were prostitutes under the employ of Greeves ¨C the most wealthy merchant in the vige.


    Beam saw soldiers amongst the crowd, but only a few of them. They were all making their way back east, towards the city, before winter hit.


    "Oho, hello there sweetie," ady called out to Beam as he wandered along. "Is today the day you''re finally going to be a man?" She teased.


    She did this most days, seeming to take some sort of pleasure in taunting Beam. He winced as she put an arm over his shoulder, pressing her chest up against his back. The scent of perfume filled Beam''s nostrils. He used to grow bright red every time this happened, but now he just felt butterflies in his stomach and a sense of panic.


    "I''m in a hurry¡­" he mumbled.


    "So am I," she teased. "If you aren''t quick, I might grow old before you finally marry me, you know?"


    It was the samedy, every other day. Loriel was her name.


    "Heyyyy, Loriel, stop messing about. You know the kid doesn''t have the money to pay ya. Greeves is going to tell you off if you don''t get back to work soon, y''know?" One of the other women shouted out to her, as they did every other day.


    And as always, Loriel merely smiled. "She''s trying to rush me¡­ Don''t think badly of her, she''s only looking out for me. Quick, before she pulls me away, tell me what''s got you smiling?"


    Despite her teasing and her aggressive way of using her sexuality to make Beam ufortable, Beam didn''t mind her too much ¨C even if it did feel like he was walking on a tightrope around her.


    Between her and Loz, they were the only two people in the entire vige who showed interest in him ¨C they only ones that showed him any signs of warmth. Despite how she acted, Loriel was more motherly than anything else. But it was as though she was embarrassed of that side of herself, so she pushed her more seductive self to the front more.


    "C''mon, pleaseeee, tell me," Lorielined, brushing some dirt out of Beam''s hair.


    Beam nced at her and saw the warm look in her eyes past her teasing. "I got a promotion," he said awkwardly.


    Her face lit up as she heard that. She seemed more overjoyed than Beam was about his own sess.


    She pulled him into a hug before he could even think to do anything, and then she kissed the top of his head. "I''m d," she said. "I''ve seen how hard you work, how much you struggle. It''s about time you got rewarded for it. Keep fighting Beam, I''m rooting for you!"

 Chapter 3: The Cursed Child - Part 3

    <h4>Chapter 3: The Cursed Child - Part 3</h4>


    With thosest words, she waved goodbye to Beam, as her friend relentlessly called for her. Her friend sighed in exasperation. "Why do you keep bothering with the boy? Can''t you tell for the filth on him that he''s got no money?"


    Loriel gave a soft smile in return. "He''s special, and no one else can see it. He''s my little treasure. Mark my words, that boy will grow into a fine man."


    "So what? It''s an investment? You think he''ll get rich and take you away?"


    But Loriel shook her head. "No¡­ He deserves someone far better than me. I''m content to just see him do well."


    Her friend shook her head. "I really don''t get you¡­"


    Beam sighed with relief as she left. Whilst all the other women treated him with something approaching disgust, only Loriel continued to pester him. Beam couldn''t figure out why.


    He dared to look over his shoulder to watch her go, only to see her sauntering seductively as she moved her hips from side to side, her fine figure more than evident in her tight purple dress. She must have sensed Beam''s gaze, for she looked back over her shoulder and smiled at him, offering him a wink. And this time he did go red.


    He scarpered away hurriedly onto the road towards home, determined to put as much distance between himself and Loriel as possible, for fear that the embarrassment would eat him alive.


    As he walked, he almost flinched as he caught sight of the figure of another beautiful woman. Only, after a moment, he remembered that this particr woman was a statue.


    In all of the vige, there was only a single statue dedicated to the Gods ¨C for they couldn''t afford any more. And that statue was offered to the Goddess udia, the Goddess of Progress.


    Beam slowed to a halt in front of it, looking up at the beautiful woman carved out of stone, with long flowing wavy hair and a kind-looking face. By her feet, there read an inscription. "Your struggles will be rewarded," it said.


    Even being as poor a reader as Beam was, those were words that he knew well. He''d often paused in front of the statue, especially in his earlier days in the vige. He''d believed that someway, somehow, his struggles indeed would be rewarded. That his suffering would lead to something better, and that he could make his family proud beyond the grave.


    It had taken him two full years before that had finally paid off, but here he was, finally with something to show for all his work.


    There were two other vigers kneeling in front of the statue in silent prayer. Normally, Beam would not join them. He didn''t share the same religious fervour as the rest of the vigers. He wasn''t sure what his opinions on the Gods quite were ¨C though he knew he didn''t like the idea that such powerful beings so freely meddled in the lives of mortals.


    But of all the Gods and Goddesses, he figured that perhaps udia was the closest he was to appreciating. She didn''t lie at least.


    Today, since he''d gotten the promotion, he figured he may as well kneel down and offer thanks, just in case udia really did have a hand in helping him forward.


    Elsewhere, as Beam prayed, in a dimension different from his own, a purple light shone, as a woman sitting at a wooden desk paused her writing a moment to acknowledge it.


    "Goddess," the woman called out, her long blond curls swaying as she turned her head. "There''s been another one. The Second Boundary has been broken."


    udia lifted her head upnguidly from her hand. She''d been sat on the stone steps of an ornate fountain, with one hand caressing the flowing waters beneath, the very image of a troubled beauty.


    Her sad eyes inspired endless pity as she called back a half-hearted question. "And which noble house is this one from?"


    "Err¡­ Let me check," udia''s attendant said, as she pushed her sses back up her nose and fished a piece of parchment out of her drawer. Sure enough, just as always, the parchment fed her all the information the Gods had observed on this particr mortal. Her eyes widened in surprise as numerous memories filled her own ¨C not because of the ufortable sensation, for she was used to it by now, but because of the odd contents, that went against what she hade to expect from one breaking through to the second level.


    udia noticed her distress and for a moment, the sadness faded from her eyes, reced instead by curiosity. She looked up, brushing silver hair from her face as she sat up for the first time in hours. "What is it?"


    "Well¡­ You see, he''s not a noble¡­ He''s not a knight. He''s not even a soldier," udia''s attendant said, in what could only be described as a panicked voice, a vast contrast to her normally dignified secretarial disposition.


    udia reached out a hand for the parchment, as interest captivated her. Her attendant soon crossed the room to fulfil the unspoken demand, her heels clicking against the marble floor as she went.


    "Goodness¡­" udia murmured, holding a hand to her chest, as the parchment filled her in. She recognized the boy, but only a little ¨C she could not look in all ces at all times, so many of her subjects often went overlooked for long periods of time, though she strove to keep an eye on them all as best she could.


    "¡­What do we do?" The attendant asked in a panic. "We''ve had members of the peasant ss break through the Second Boundary before¡­ but that isn''t the problem."


    "Indeed, we do not discriminate. Progress will be gifted to all equally who yearn for it and struggle for it, and we have had more than a few peasants break through the Second Boundary before¡­ but you''re quite right, that is not the problem," udia mused, her eyes again clouded over with sadness, but this time for a different reason.

 Chapter 4: The Cursed Child - Part 4

    <h4>Chapter 4: The Cursed Child - Part 4</h4>


    "It''s all strange, isn''t it?" The attendant said in rm. "Normally, to pass through the Second Boundary, one umtes progress and responsibility. The knights know this, that''s why their apprentices pass through faster than everyone else ¨C and they know the best ways to make progress too, because they have the liberty to train rather than struggle merely to survive."


    "That''s quite right," udia said, tolerating her attendant''s repetition of facts that she already knew, for she was in the same space in her head. She had to go over what she knew just to make sense of the situation. "Progress is gifted to all equally, with the only conditions being talent and struggle. The Second Boundary serves as a limiter for those mortals that choose the path of progress ¨C it opens them up to new strengths. It is my acknowledgement of those who have walked the path that I preach, so in turn I give them a blessing. I warm their backs so that they can push forward even more urgently."


    "The three conditions necessary to reach the Second Boundary: suffering, progress and responsibility," the attendant said. "Yet never has anyone''s suffering surpassed their progress and their responsibility sopletely¡­ It''s as though your love does not reach him."


    udia pursed her lips sadly and let out a sigh. "For such a young boy as well¡­ It is quite unnatural that such a thing should ur. Progress, as decreed by my divine weapon, always follows struggle and suffering. For suffering to fill one''s life sopletely and for them to still be as determined as this boy is¡­"


    "But that is not where it ends, is it?" The attendant said. "The only thing that can block a Goddess'' divine weapon is the weapon of another God or Goddess of equal power."


    "Ingolsol," udia murmured, anger filling her violet eyes. "His hand in yet another mortal''s suffering. Will he ever tire of such base evil?"


    "He''s been cursed," the attendant said with a nod. "It seems it was when his vige was attacked and his family was killed. There was a thick enough aura of despair for Ingolsol to act, all in the area he touched are now dead."


    "As are all who are afflicted with his curse," udia said with a sigh. "They either fall into the sea of despair and kill themselves, or the despair consumes their soul entirely and they begin to kill others. Either way, through Ingolsol''s cruelty and my weakness, they never survive. And yet this boy has¡­"


    The attendant had an unhappy look on her face as she said the next words. "We cannot offer him your blessing, can we, udia? For a person of the Second Boundary ¨C who would normally be immune to such curses ¨C to be afflicted with it¡­ If he were to lose himself, he''d be quite the monster."


    udia pondered a moment, a finger on her chin. Her attendant had learned to fear that pose, for it always led to the worst decisions. "Please no¡­" she said. But it was already toote, her mind was made up.


    "It is the mortals that give us power, my dear. It is they that choose their paths and what they believe in. I will believe in this boy. Grant him my blessing and offer him the gift," udia said firmly, giving themand with regality.


    The attendant sighed. "As you wish¡­ But for the gift¡­ He has no progress to speak of ¨C I cannot gift him a skill in any area."


    udia smiled. "Then we will give him something better. My beloved Dominus retreated into the ck Mountains, did he not? Let us guide the two together. I am sure, of all people, Dominus Patrick will see his value."


    Her smile faltered for just a second as she made that deration. "Though¡­ the adjustment period after one has broken through the Second Boundary is always painful. They are always forced to give up much of what is important to them before the evolution will finally settle. I only hope he can endure such suffering."


    ¡­


    ¡­


    Beam gave the statue onest respectful nod before he continued on his way back home.


    Finally, his road home met with the forest and he entered.


    He admired the setting sun as he walked through the tall trees, enjoying the breeze on his bare skin as he walked with his dirty shirt slung over his shoulder, and his sandals in his hands, enjoying the cool earth beneath his feet.


    This was his part of the wood, his territory.


    Well, not in actuality. In actuality, this was the vige''s forest, and the territory of the local lord. He didn''t own a bit of it. Not even the hut that he lived in. It was all merely rented, and merely enough to get by. But in moments of quiet like these ¨C and it was often quiet around these parts ¨C such trivialities didn''t matter.


    "Mm¡­" he could smell smoke in the air. It seemed someone was still in the woods. Possibly cooking up some game that they had managed to catch throughout the day. He paid it no mind, and merely ascended the steep muddy slope towards his house, casting an eye to the nearby stream and its gently flowing water.


    At the top of the hill though, he could only note that the smoke had thickened. And with that, there finally set in a panic. After a day of things otherwise going normally, something had finally exceeded his expectations and reignited emotions that he hadn''t felt in quite a time.


    He quickened his step and rushed towards where he knew his hut to be.

 Chapter 5: The Cursed Child - Part 5

    <h4>Chapter 5: The Cursed Child - Part 5</h4>


    "Damn it¡­" he muttered, the energy draining from his limbs.


    There was no point rushing around now. The dry grass of the roof had been burned hours ago, and the wall had already copsed inwards, half reduced to ember. In short, there was no saving it now.


    "Hah¡­" he sat on the ground, his back against the nearby tree, a palm to his cheek and his eyes drifting from the sky to the fire, and then back to the sky again.


    Beam was not the only one who watched as the fire''s smoke rose up into the sky either.


    When the scent of the smoke entered his nostrils, Dominus Patrick finally opened his eyes after hours of meditation. A quick nce at the sky told him how far away the me was. He let out a sigh, about to ignore it, but a white rabbit was quick to put a stop to that.


    It ran up towards Dominus without a shred of timidness and put a paw on his leg. That was enough to make Dominus wince, for that leg ¨C and that side of his body as a whole ¨C was strongly affected by the Pandora Goblin poison, making his existence at times rtive agony as he fought to keep the poison at bay for as long as he could, so that he could find what he sought to find.


    The rabbit would not leave Dominus be, no matter how much he attempted to ignore it. With a weary sigh, he got to his feet, just as the rabbit bounded away.


    "Mmph¡­ is this an omen?" He asked himself. Dominus had long since broken through the fifth boundary ¨C one of only a few people in history to achieve such a thing ¨C so he knew well the power that the Gods had, but never had he seen one attempt to guide him so tantly.


    His face was stern as he saw what the rabbit wanted from him. It clearly attempted to lead him towards the source of all the smoke. Even knowing that the Gods were likely involved in such nudging, it did not make him wish to proceed any faster ¨C in fact, it only made him feel less enthusiastic.


    Dominus knew better than anyone just how little time he had left. It had been two years since the king had ordered they do battle with the Pandora Goblin. Two years since the greatest hero thend had ever seen perished so needlessly. Two years since Dominus lost his friend, that very same hero, one of only a handful of people in the entire world that recognized his swordsmanship.


    Dominus had done Arthur proud with that recognition. When had heard of his friend falling, dying a needless death at the orders of the king, Dominus had rushed forward to the battlefield himself to confront the beast. He had managed a mighty strike on its hide, wounding it, yet the creature''s ws hadnded on his side in return, sending him flying a great distance away and filling him with its poison.


    With that strike of Dominus'', he became the first person in the creatures'' two thousand-year history to wound it. A feat that even Arthur did not manage ¨C his great friend and thend''s greatest hero. In obscurity was Dominus'' sword forged and in obscurity did it die as well. There was no one to see his magnificent feat, or praise it. Not even Dominus himself. He could not be satisfied with merely wounding it ¨C he had to kill it, to avenge that friend of his. And so he meditated, prolonging his life, looking for a way to get stronger, so that he might y the creature before death finally took its grip.


    And here the Gods were, interfering in such a process. They led him to an open clearing in the forest, where there had once stood a house, which was now half-burned from angry mes.


    He saw a boy there too ¨C the boy had just arrived. The boy took a nce at his burning home, heaved a massive sigh and then sat on the ground with his back against the tree.


    Dominus twisted his face in annoyance. This was what the Gods had brought him to see? A boy whocked any sort of strength entirely? He was so far beneath Dominus in skill, that theparison between a man and a God would have been more than apt. From what Dominus could see, he was merely a peasant boy. A peasant boy down on his luck, but nothing more than a peasant boy after all.


    The old knight shook his head and turned to leave. Perhaps he had misinterpreted the white rabbit. Perhaps it had merely been a yful pest, rather than an omen from the Gods. Dominus had bigger fish to fry. He was intent on solving the greatest puzzle in knightly history ¨C on achieving a strength far greater than anyone else. And as of yet, he had no signs of how to do that. His progress had ground to a halt a decade ago and he knew not how to break that deadlock. But he knew he wouldn''t find his answer here, in a realm so different from his own, the realm of the peasantry.


    Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the boy shift. He turned his head slightly, to see what he was up to. The boy tore his shirt off, knelt on the ground and started doing pushups, even as his house burned in front of him.


    Dominus recoiled slightly. He was sure the boy had lost himself to despair, when he saw him sitting with his head in his hands, and yet here he was, doing pushups, a look of determination in his eyes. Dominus saw the marks on his back, the whipshings of the ve, the signs of much suffering.


    With his interest finally captured, if only a little, Dominus observed the boy a little further. He had a soft spot for those that struggled. He never had the talent to match Arthur. He was never blessed by the Gods in that regard. It was only his relentless struggle that had brought him up to Arthur''s level ¨C a fact that his friend praised almost tirelessly.


    With the boy exerting himself, Dominus finally caught just the slightest of fluctuations in his aura, just the smallest signs of who he really was ¨C and there, his eyes widened, as he caught just the smallest whiff of a boy that had broken the Second Boundary.


    He had turned aroundpletely by now,pletely puzzled. No other knight in thend would have been able to detect the Goddess'' blessing through such a frail aura ¨C that was just how weak Beam was. A person''s aura would multiply with the progress he had achieved and yet, despite the Goddess'' blessing, there was seemingly no progress at all.

 Chapter 6: The Cursed Child - Part 6

    <h4>Chapter 6: The Cursed Child - Part 6</h4>


    The boy stopped at forty-two press-ups. Far from an impressive feat.


    "Why do you struggle, boy?" Dominus called out, unable to hide his curiosity.


    "To get better. So my family don''t have to worry about me," Beam said back, showing no signs of surprise, as though he''d known Dominus was there all along.


    "And yet you don''t progress. Forty-two pushups was a struggle for you," Dominus said.


    Beam shrugged. "I had forty yesterday and I got forty-two today. That''s the most I''ve managed to progress in a very long time."


    Dominus frowned at that. How had the boy managed to break through the Second Boundary at all? Had he done it entirely on suffering? As a peasant, he will have had hardly any responsibility to speak of, so that certainly didn''t carry him forward¡­ And yet, even then, he needed at least a whiff of progress to be able to push forward and he had what was effectively zero.


    He thought he knew why.


    "You''ve been cursed by Ingolsol," Dominus said, just to gauge a reaction. "Progress will eternally escape you and despair will take its ce. The curse you were afflicted with ¨C a curse that only reaches the weak and the innocent ¨C worms its way into your soul."


    Beam''s eyes widened in surprise for just a moment but then he merely shrugged again. "Even if what you say is true, it doesn''t change what I need to do."


    "All who are afflicted with Ingolsol''s curse die within six months. You havested years by the look of you ¨C a feat which Imend. But resisting Ingolsol''s curse takes its toll. In constantly fighting against it, you cannot open your soul up to progress. Indeed, to do so would be to allow yourself to be overrun," Dominus said.


    Beam smiled. "That doesn''t sound right, old man. I was promoted today at work, after all. And years ago, I could only do fifteen pushups. I''ve still made progress."


    It was Dominus'' turn to be surprised. He put a finger on his chin and murmured. Indeed, what the boy had said must have been true ¨C even if it was minimal progress, to reach through to the Second Boundary, you had to have at least some. And yet how? Resisting the curse was one thing, but to have enough leeway to force some pitiful progress as well on top of it? It was unnatural.


    And now that very same boy, cursed by Ingolsol''s despair, now had udia''s blessing and had broken through the Second Boundary. He was like a bomb now ¨C a bomb covered in a freshyer of oil. When he finally did break, it would hurt a great many people.


    Dominus drew his sword grimly. "Whilst I feel sorry for your plight, I cannot allow you to go on living. This means nothing to you, I imagine, since the peasantry are unaware of it ¨C but today, it would seem, you broke through to the Second Boundary. It will grow only harder to resist the curse from here, and when you do finally give in to it, the monster that you be would be a threat to an entire vige."


    "It''s my duty as a knight to see that such a future does note to pass. On my name Dominus Patrick, I sentence you to die."


    Beam looked at the sword, fear absent from his grey eyes ¨C were they grey? Or were they blue and green? It was hard to tell. He looked at the point of the sword as though he had been on the end of it more than once and he stared at Dominus, a false smile on his lips.


    "My life is not my own, old man. Knight or not, I will struggle against you," Beam said. His eyes lit up with a ferocity that took even Dominus by surprise. Golden flecks span around them, as a fierce determination was projected forth. Dominus felt a shiver, despite his strength.


    Slowly, he lowered his sword. "I understand now," he mused. "So that is why udia blessed you."


    Seeing Beam staring back at him in confusion, Dominus sighed and exined.


    "Before, without udia''s blessing, it was your soul resisting against Ingolsol''s curse. And now, with her blessing, your soul bes the joint in the seesaw between light and dark. A precarious situation ¨C an intensely dangerous one. There is a path forward for you, but it is dependent on the tightest bnce," Dominus said.


    "Then I will take it and live regardless," Beam said firmly.


    Dominus looked at him with icy eyes. "You have spirit boy, far beyond your strength. For a peasant to speak to a noble as such ¨C already, your neck would be bared on the block. And yet you stand against me, of all people, as though you stand a chance."


    "It doesn''t matter whether I stand a chance or not. I swore an oath to struggle for my life regardless," Beam said.


    "Then struggle," Dominus intoned. His sword shed out of its scabbard for half a second and a short distance away, a boulder crumbled. "That is the power of the third boundary. I exist within the fifth. I am he who wounded the Pandora Goblin. I am the scorned knight, Dominus Patrick. Now you know of me, you will know your ce."


    Beam looked from Dominus back to the shattered boulder and then back to Dominus again. Never before had he seen such a feat of overwhelming strength. Never before had he even met a knight. Beam merely nodded, realizing that his life was entirely in Dominus'' hands from the start.

 Chapter 7: The Price of Power - Part 1

    <h4>Chapter 7: The Price of Power - Part 1</h4>


    "I present to you a choice now. One, I execute you right here before you be a burden to the world around you. Or two, you yield to me for the next few days, whilst I test your worth and determine how great the risk is in keeping you alive," Dominus said.


    "Then I wille with you," Beam said immediately.


    Dominus raised an eyebrow. "Did you not just receive a promotion at your job?"


    "I did. But it isn''t worth very much if I''m dead."


    Chapter 2 ¨C The Price of Power


    "This is really cold¡­" Beam noted with a frown. It was still dark outside. Still during the hour of the tiger. The sun wouldn''t rise for another couple of hours yet, so there was nothing to heat the rushing cold water of the small mountainside river.


    "Cold? Hah! This is pleasant, that''s what it is. You know nothing about cold, boy. Wait till you get a few miles further north and get to the heart of winter ¨C that''s when you''ll know about cold. Doing this in the early autumn when the warmth of summer is still kicking around? That''s a treat, that''s what that is," Dominus said back, as he waded deeper into the river, wearing nothing but his loincloth, aiming for the waterfall a little further upstream.


    "Why¡­ Why are we even doing this anyway?" Beam asked, fighting to get his words out after the cold took his breath away.


    It had been two days since his meeting with Dominus. Two days since he had seen what to him was the equivalent of magic. And ever since then, the old man had done nothing but drag him along andmand him to do the strangest of tasks. Beam understood that he wanted to test him, for fear that Ingolsol''s curse would overtake him if he ever grew weak, but the tasks seemed more orientated towards testing his skill than anything else.


    "Like I said, I want to see what you''re worth," Dominus said, seating himself on the chiselled rock just behind the waterfall, so that its rushing waters pped onto his differently coloured shoulders and tousled his short hair, threatening to fold him in half.


    Seeing that, Beam was almost tempted to be grateful that it was at least a smaller waterfall they were doing this under. Had it been any bigger, then they really would have been folded in half ¨C and Beam wasn''t confident that Dominus wouldn''t havemanded him to get under it anyway.


    "That''s what you keep saying," Beam murmured despondently. He had to swim now, as the water grew increasingly deep the closer they got to the waterfall''s plunge pool. Now that he was fully immersed in the chilly morning water, it wasn''t quite as bad, but it was still incredibly cold, and he was waiting for any excuse to go rushing out.


    In the past two days, alongside those words, stating that ''he wanted to see what he was worth'', Dominus had given Beam all manner of different tests. Or at least Beam had assumed they were tests. Dominus tended not to exin things fully.


    First, he had made him lift the heaviest rock he could find. Or at least, attempt to lift it. Beam never managed to get it off the ground, yet Dominus hefted it to his shoulder easily.


    Then, he had taught him the rules of a board game. Rules that Beam still didn''t understand ¨C for there were far too many of them. It was a game popr amongst soldiers and especiallymanding officers. It aimed to simte warfare, by giving each side twenty pieces of their choice in which to overpower their opponent''s army and im victory by ying their general or routing the enemy force. In that too, Beam had been thoroughly crushed before he had been able to understand what was going on.


    And then swordy. The test for that had been short, and it cut the deepest for Beam. Even though it was two days prior, the scene kept shing through his mind, and every time it did, he felt a wave of bitterness.


    The swords test had onlysted a matter of seconds. He''d faced off against Dominus with a simrly sized stick in the ce of a sword, and Dominus hadmanded him to give his best shot atnding a single strike on him. But all Beam had managed was a single swing. He''d thrown it as best he could ¨C or at least he thought so ¨C but Dominus had stopped the strike and thrown him to the ground with such contempt that he was starting to have doubts himself.


    After that, he wasn''t given another chance to prove his worth with the sword.


    "Well, you have absolutely no talent with the de. It would hurt my eyes to see you swing it any further," Dominus had said, shaking his head with a sigh.


    Beam could only grit his teeth and clench the dirt in his hands as his back still throbbed from where Dominus had thrown him. "¡­These are sticks though," had been his weak attempt at saving his pride.


    Those were the words Dominus said, yet in his mind, he saw things differently. As he turned away from the downed Beam, he felt a tingle run through his fingers.


    It was no lie that Beam was unskilled. He had no real skill in anything to speak of, as a result of the curse of Ingolsol. Yet seeing him swing a de was a chilling experience for Dominus. There, frozen within subtle movements, the old knight could see the barest glimmerings of proper talent ¨C a talent that reminded him of Arthur.


    Dominus had to shake his head to himself as he walked away. To have such talent and yet to be cursed never to be able to use it, there was cruelty in that, such relentless cruelty.


    Of course, he would not say such words to the boy. He wanted to test his mind as much as his skills, to see how he could hold up against anger, to see how the darkness within him would stir when given enough room to move.

 Chapter 8: The Price of Power - Part 2

    <h4>Chapter 8: The Price of Power - Part 2</h4>


    And so Dominus continued to tease him. He grew ever more casual as he found different ways to call the peasant boy trash. Halfway through, he even began to enjoy it.


    Beam endured these tests as best he could, but with the sheer amount of them, even he was beginning to grow impatient.


    Swordy, strength, endurance, strategy. He''d tested those rather thoroughly, from what Beam understood, and he''d thrown in more tests besides. Tests that he wasn''t quite sure what they tested, like this cold water swim in the dark of morning.


    "What are we doing this for?" Beam said again as he climbed underneath the waterfall beside Dominus, having to make a considerable effort to keep his voice level despite the roaring water and the cold force battering him.


    "A test of worth," Dominus said again, his eyes closed as he sat cross-legged in meditation.


    Beam sighed and went quiet, knowing that he''d likely not be getting another response now. He was growing used to the old man''s habits. For now, he merely closed his eyes and crossed his legs like he''d seen Dominus do, and he drifted into the idle thoughts of his mind, trying to ignore the cold.


    That didn''tst particrly long either. After five minutes of sitting like that, his body could bear it no longer, and an overwhelming urge to get out hit him, one that he could no longer control.


    He jumped back into the water and iled ungracefully towards the shore, where he pulled himself out shivering and went in search of his clothes. "Damn it! It''s so cold!" He shouted.


    "Mmph," from his groan, Dominus sounded annoyed, as he blinked open his eyes owlishly, and used his one-good arm to somehow gracefully get back in the water and simrly swim the shore.


    He cast Beam a sharp nce before he went in search of his clothes, making the boy flinch.


    Now that he knew just what Dominus was capable of, Beam was feeling understandably cautious around him. To have invited his ire was something he would have rather avoided. Almost timidly, he made sure he was well out of Dominus'' way.


    And then Dominus spoke, as he slipped into a dry pair of his wide trousers and slid on his sandals. "Mm¡­ As expected, your ability to endure difort for long periods of time stands out above everything else."


    Beam''s eyes shot open in surprise. He was sure he''d get anotherment telling him how trash he was. Another dig into his already faltering pride. And instead, he''d gotten something that sounded suspiciously close to being apliment.


    "Don''t get me wrong, you''re still trash though," Dominus added, and Bream''s shoulders slumped. "So far, there''s been absolutely nothing you''re good at. Your strength is average, maybe slightly above average for your age. Your endurance is the same. Your speed too. They''re all slightly above what the average is for your age, but in the wider scope of the world, they''re trash. All of it. Not to mention your martial skill. It''s none existent."


    "I''m faster than all the other kids though, and stronger too," Beam murmured. "But why are you testing me like this? How does this test the curse that you were talking about?"


    Dominus shrugged. "I''m merely weighing up how much worth there is in keeping you alive ¨C and so far there isn''t much."


    Beam shuddered, as he was once again reminded just how close to death he was. In a single blink, whenever he decided to, Dominus could cut him down.


    "C''mon then, let''s head back and get on with the rest of the day. There are many more tests to be had," Dominus said.


    The sun wasing up over the horizon. The start of another long day.


    Beam enjoyed the quiet walk back ¨C a chance to finally rest his mind from the relentless tests. But before he could rx too much, they arrived back at Dominus'' hut. A small shelter, with dry thatch for a roof, mud walls, and a stone circle fire pit out front. There was barely enough room for one bed, so Beam had been made to sleep outside the past two nights that he''d stayed there. He was lucky that it had not yet rained. But the skies today did not look so forgiving.


    "Go on then, the same as yesterday," Dominus said, gesturing toward a mound of stones thaty a little ways away from where the house stood.


    "Again?" Bream asked. His body was still ice cold from the river. His legs had only just begun to warm up from their short walk, but he felt that if he were to exert them fully with how cold they were, something would be liable to snap.


    "Yes, again," Dominus said impatiently, "chop chop. You''re under mymand, are you not? Do as your senior tells you."


    He said all this as lowered himself back onto his bed of spring reeds and animal furs, reaching for some dried wood with which to revive the fire from its embers. "I''ll make you some tea if you do well," he said. But he''d said that the day before too. And Beam hadn''t done well the day before. Not by Dominus'' standards.


    "Alright¡­" He dragged himself over to where the stones were. Just in front of that mound of mountain rubble were the stones that they were using. Five stones of incrementallyrger size and weight. The smallest of which was about the size of Beam''s head, and thergest of which was the size of his torso. He had only previously managed to lift all the stones up to the middle stone, which was about half the size of his torso.


    He began lifting the smallest of the five. Scooping it up to his knees, letting it rest there a moment as he regained his posture, then lifting it up onto his chest, as though he were attempting to put it on a tform that was about as high up as his neck. But since there was no tform there, he simply let it drop.

 Chapter 9: The Price of Power - Part 3

    <h4>Chapter 9: The Price of Power - Part 3</h4>


    He eyed Dominus to make sure he was doing it right. It was Dominus after all, who had told him to pick it up in such a manner, and lift it as high as he had. It wasn''t ordinarily how he''d go about handling stones. Dominus motioned with his hand for Beam to continue, as he himself set a battered ck kettle on the now recovering fire.


    Beam made to move on to the next stone, as he had the previous day.


    "Ah," Dominus said, motioning for him to go back.


    Beam frowned. That was a habit of Dominus'' ¨C to go ahead and let Beam do the wrong thing, only to correct him afterwards, and make him spend twice the energy.


    Of course, Beam did not know that this was intentional on Dominus'' behalf, as the old knight continually tried to test the limits of the boy''s mental fortitude.


    "Lift that one twenty times. You can count to twenty, can''t youd?" Dominus said.


    "Of course I can count to twenty," Beam bristled, thinking he was getting insulted. He was lucky enough to learn his numbers from his mother before she passed, and he could safely count all the way up to a hundred, which was more than most people in the vige.


    "I was only asking," Dominus said, as though oblivious.


    Beam sighed again, for what felt like the hundredth time that day, and he knelt down to pick up the stone for a second time. And then a third. And a fourth. By the fifth, he was out of breath and his muscles were aching. He had a fair amount of endurance built up from digging holes all day as part of his job, but with this being a different movement, it exhausted him.


    At fifteen repetitions, his legs were shaking, and he was sure he couldn''t lift it again. But he caught the way Dominus was looking at him. Hungrily, with interest. He''d noticed that look more than once over thest couple of days, though he pretended he hadn''t. Dominus, for his part, quickly wiped that look off his face, and reced it with one of disinterest, that looked like it could quickly descend into mocking should Beam fail yet another task.


    "Damn it!" Beam muttered, unwilling to give up yet, despite his fatigue. He felt his anger rise and reignite his limbs. Those next five repetitions almost killed him, but he made sure he finished them anyway.


    "Good," Dominus stood up and handed Beam a drink of warm tea.


    Now that he''d exhausted himself from lifting the stone well past his limit, Beam''s body was far from cold, but he epted the warm drink gratefully, even more satisfied with thement. For the first time in two days, he''d received something that could solidly be construed as something positive, without a hint of mockery. He could even swear he might have seen a hint of respect in the old man''s eyes. But he must have imagined it, for Dominus was straight back to egging him on.


    "Well, now that you canfortably lift what most women can do, how about we get onto the next stone?" he said.


    Beam clenched his fist so hard that it was a wonder the y cup that he was drinking from didn''t shatter. "Damn it," he said again under his breath, setting his drink aside and gritting his teeth, prepared to show that old man just what he could really do.


    "Mm, for this one, let''s say fifteen," Dominus said innocently.


    Beam nched at thement and whirled on the old man, expecting him to relent, and concede that he was only joking. But from the look on his face, he was deadly serious. "But it''s near twice the weight! I struggled to lift it for one only a couple of days ago," Beam protested.


    Dominus merely shrugged. "And now you can struggle to lift it for fifteen," he said. "Begin."


    And so Beam began. Before his heart even had a chance to calm down from the previous task, he attempted to lift this stone that he had struggled with before¡­ And, it was even heavier than he expected. Just getting it to sit on top of his knees for the first time nearly took everything he had, and then rising up with it in his chest was just as hard.


    "One," Dominus said.


    "Grr," with such exhaustion, such anger, such indignance, Beam could only express his emotions with a growl as he stepped towards the dropped stone for another lift.


    "Hup!" It was easier this time, though only barely. He got it to his knees faster thanst time and to his chest faster still.


    He looked towards Dominus and Dominus nodded.


    A third lift. It was almost equal to thest rep in ease, though maybe slightly easier. But by now his breath was beginning to grow quick, as was his heartbeat. He could barely feel his legs at this point. Rather than his strength, it was his endurance that was beginning to hold him back.


    "Lift," Dominus demanded when he took too long resting.


    And so he stepped forth again. A fourth lift, then a fifth, but the fifth rep was barely there. The veins in his neck bulged from the effort, and he dropped it down a little too quickly ¨C almost hitting his foot.


    "Ah, you dropped that one early," Dominus said, "mm, that one doesn''t count. You still have eleven more."


    Beam was so tired that he couldn''t even summon the fury to direct at his overbearingmander. He could only step forth and put it all on the line for another lift.


    He got it this time. And he held it for longer still, making eye contact with Dominus, who nodded, confirming that he could drop it.


    The more he lifted, the more tired he got, and the quieter his mind grew. He knew nothing, only that he did not want to stop before he reached his goal.


    "Go on, get on with it," Dominus said, purposely provoking him.

 Chapter 10: The Price of Power - Part 4

    <h4>Chapter 10: The Price of Power - Part 4</h4>


    This was his seventh lift ¨C or sixth in the eyes of Dominus, given the one that didn''t count ¨C and it was more than obvious that the boy was reaching his limit. He tore off his shirt, somehow hoping that the reintroduction of cool air would spur on his strength, if only a little, and he gripped the stone as tightly as he could, aiming to rip it off the floor even faster than thest.


    But the stones were growing slick and his hands were growing tired. They were already damp and slippery from the morning dew drops that had coated the ground around them, and that wet only coated the stone more each time he lifted it. It was no longer just a matter of picking it up, but a struggle of merely getting hold of it.


    He lifted it halfway up his shin before it slipped out of his hands and he dropped it.


    "What are you doing?" Dominus said, raising his voice. "Lift it, I said! Lift! Are you dull? Do you have no worth to you at all? Lift the damn stone, boy!"


    Beam was so tired he could barely see straight. His normal thinking voice was entirely silent. He didn''t have the energy for it. His breaths came in rapid gasps and his legs were shaking. But he didn''t want to quit. He didn''t know why he didn''t want to quit. The task was meaningless. There was no merit in aplishing it. There would be no prize, nothing at all. But still, he didn''t want to lose. He didn''t want to fail. He hated that more than anything else.


    "LIFT IT!" Dominus roared. And finally, Beam''s anger kicked in, roaring out of the depths of his tired soul, reigniting his muscles with just barely the amount of energy they needed, allowing him to tear the stone from the ground with a new speed, and allowing him to lock it out at his chest almost confidently.


    Dominus nodded in approval. "Again," he said without a shred of mercy.


    And again Beam tried. And again Beam struggled. Again, he had to draw upon everything his soul had. Everything that his bodycked. He had to beg it for another go, another spin of the needle.


    He managed it, but only barely. That was seven.


    He was swaying from side to side as he stood, attempting to catch his breath. He rubbed his nose, half expecting blood to start pouring down from it. Never in his life had he pushed his body so hard.


    "Tsch, so that''s all you''re worth then," Dominus said, turning away, heading back towards his hut, snatching Beam''s cup with him. "I thought there was more to you than that."


    But his words didn''t reach Beam. He was in his own world at this point. Oxygen-starved, and reckless. He eyed that stone as though it was his worst enemy. He couldn''t let it sit there, unlifted. He didn''t know why, not anymore, he''d ceased to think ¨C but he was damn well sure that he would lift it.


    "GAHHH!" He cried out as he lifted the stone again, his whole body trembling an rming amount as he desperately tried to get it once more to his knees.


    Dominus felt the ripple of something menacing burn through the air. The ripple of that which all knights knew to y. His hand found its way to the hilt of his sword on instinct.


    Dominus paused and looked back over his shoulder, just in time to see Beam make it to the first checkpoint, allowing the stone to rest a moment in hisp. And from there he took a deep breath, one that seemed to contain his very life force, and he lifted it once more, all the way to the finish line.


    As he let the stone go, havingpleted the lift, it was a wonder to Dominus that he was still standing. He saw him swaying from side to side, his eyes open, yet seeing nothing. And then the short boy of a mere fifteen years scooped down to pick up the stone once more.


    A hand gripped Beam by the shoulder. He turned around in shock, having apparently not heard Dominus'' approach. "That''ll dod," he said.


    Dominus observed him carefully. Despite the chill that had run through the air, the boy had not lost to the curse. The only sign that something had happened was those sparkling golden flecks spinning around in his eyes.


    "But¡­ I haven''t finished yet," Beam said, with a clear hint of anxiousness.


    "You sure hate losing, don''t youd?" Dominus said suddenly, squinting at him.


    Beam nodded slowly, recalling the events of thest few days. "I guess I do¡­"


    "That''s a trait I like, you know. You''ve got a couple of traits that I''m a fan of. That righteous anger you get when you''re close to failing something, and how depressed you get after failing it. Those are good qualities. ''Specially if you''re ambitious, which you seem to be."


    Beam listened to Dominus as he spoke, a frown on his face. "Why are you doing this?" He asked. "I get the feeling that you''re being nice to me, even though you''re making me do all these dumb things. I lost the bet, didn''t I? You''ve got no reason to be showing me goodwill."


    There was a slight pang in the old knight''s heart as he saw the jaded distrust on the face of one so young. It was clear the boy had had his fair share of suffering, and far too early at that. It was a painful sight to see.


    "Don''t think too deeply about it," Dominus said, hiding his true feelings. "I''m just testing to see whether you''re worth keeping alive or not. You''re trash, at the moment, after all."


    "At the moment?" Beam repeated. He''d grown so used to being called trash over thest two days that the addition of the words caught his attention. But Dominus was already up and walking away, pretending he didn''t hear thatstment.


    Beam forced himself after him, still struggling to catch his breath, his whole body aching and his head dizzy. "By the way, I''ve gotten stronger, haven''t I? Two days ago I wouldn''t have even been able to do three lifts of that stone and today I got eight."


    "That''s just the nature of a beginner''s progress," Dominus said, as they left his house behind.

 Chapter 11: The Price of Power - Part 5

    <h4>Chapter 11: The Price of Power - Part 5</h4>


    But whilst Dominus'' words held truth ¨C they were a truth that didn''t apply to Beam. For the curse that he bore, such progress was meant to be beyond him, and yet here he was, mere days after receiving the blessing of udia, rocketing forwards so quickly. For anyone else, it would be understandable ¨C it would even be expected, especially after receiving the blessing¡­ but for Beam, it was an unbelievable feat.


    Dominus could hardly understand it. Every time he thought he''d put a finger on the pulse of Beam''s situation, the boy would do something and it wouldpletely shatter any conclusions that Beam hade to. Why could he suddenly progress so quickly despite the curse that he bore? Could udia''s blessing really have made that much of a difference?


    Even if it had, it was not meant to be so easy to navigate. This here, this stage that Beam was in, this process of evolution ¨C it was the most painful period in many a knight''s life, a time when they lost many things. Yet Beam hardly seemed phased by it. It was as though his psyche was a calm river, merely reacting the bare minimum to the world around him, simply flowing and remaining bnced all the while.


    "Beginners progress?" Beam repeated with a smile. "It feels¡­ It feels super good to progress that easily."


    Dominus nced at him ¨C that was exactly how normal people progressed, at least at the start. For him to value it so highly warmed his heart, if only a little. He knew not what to say in reply, so he merely grunted and directed him towards his next test. "You will run again today," he said.


    Beam nodded and followed along after him.


    The further down the mountain trail they went, the steeper the paths grew and the more disorderly. The path would go up for the span of a few minutes, only to go immediately down again for the same length of time.


    The vegetation was thick too, still filled with all the vitality offered by the summer sun, only just barely beginning to show signs of withering. Their long limbs stretched out over the path, and the thornier ones snagged at their clothes, but Dominus merely marched through like a juggernaut, oblivious to the impedance.


    After far more walking than Beam felt up to ¨C though it was only fifteen minutes or so at that point ¨C they caught sight of the river once more, at the bottom of a deep ravine. Opposite them was the smooth stone of vertical cliffs, with a pine forest struggling to cling to the top of it.


    Dominus nced around, checking for something, before nodding to himself.


    "You''ll run here today," he said.


    "Where..?" Beam asked, looking around. The route up ahead looked almost impassable. The route behind them was only in slightly better condition, after Dominus had battered through it and Beam had stamped it down afterwards, but even then the footing looked perilous, and it was beyond hilly. It would be a miserable time attempting to run it all the way back.


    And then he was tired on top of that. His limbs were incredibly achy from the rock lifts, even though they had finished early. He had gone well beyond his limit that day, and beyond what his body was used to, and he could already feel the recoil building up.


    His hamstring kept threatening to cramp and his back and stomach felt so tight that it was difficult to breathe. His hands too were red raw from attempting to grip the stone. If he hadn''t built up all the calluses on his palms after so long working with a spade, then things would have been much worse.


    "There," Dominus pointed to the forest on the other side of the river, and Beam''s eyes widened.


    "There!? But there''s that river in the way¡­ Not only that, how am I meant to climb that cliff? It''s vertical! I''ll die!" Beam protested.


    "And if you fail to meet my expectations, you will die all the same," Dominus reminded him.


    "¡­But if I try to meet them, then will I progress again, like I did on the stones?" Beam asked, excited by the prospect. Never in his life had he been able to progress so quickly in anything.


    But Dominus just shook his head in reply. "No, not exactly. At least not straight away. Well, far be it from me to steal that hope from you. You''ll find out for yourself. Enough talking. Get running. Do it three times."


    Beam smiled at that, thinking that Dominus was merely tricking him again. In his mind, each time he thought back to the stones, and the progress he''d reaped on them in only a matter of days, his heart beat in a new wave of excitement. ''What if I could do that in everything?'' He thought to himself.


    ''What if I could improve my speed just as fast? What if I could get better at fighting, too? Then in a month... No, even in a week, I''d be stronger than most men in the vige. I''d be faster too. Better in a fight. When I''m there¡­ Damn¡­ When I''m there things will be so much better. I''ll finally get the opportunities I''m searching for. I''ll finally get to shoot for the top.'' Beam clenched his fist as he thought that to himself, the possibilities of progress and the hope that came with them drenching his youthful mind in wild dreams.


    He looked up at Dominus with fire in his eyes, feeling gratitude, even before he''d truly felt the results of the progress he''d envisioned.


    Dominus caught that look and shook his head once more. ''He''ll find out for himself what I mean,'' he thought to himself, before raising his voice in a shout. "RUN!" Hemanded, as loud as he would a soldier on the battlefield.

 Chapter 12: The Price of Power - Part 6

    <h4>Chapter 12: The Price of Power - Part 6</h4>


    And then Beam wandered off the mountain path, staring down into the ravine as he went, eyeing up the river that would soon be his obstacle. But before that, he noticed an even more pressing problem.


    Just a few steps away from his path, and he saw the way down was nearly as vertical here as it appeared on the opposite side of the river. Looking at the height difference between where he stood now, and where the river was, he reckoned it was about the height of a three-story house, which wouldn''t be too bad, had the slope been more forgiving.


    He took a cautious step onto it with a single foot, testing to see how quickly he was likely to fall down. He felt his impatience growing in him, knowing that Dominus would likely shout at him again if he didn''t hurry up¡­ But though it wasn''t quite as steep a rise as it was on the other side of the river, it was still damn well steep, and with nothing to grab onto, he''d quickly lose his footing on the muddy slope and slide all the way to the bottom, likely smashing his head on one of the many stones on the way down.


    Luckily, there were hardy trees growing out of the slope, and some fallen branches that looked like they might slow his descent somewhat. He eyed up all the obstacles that he could use to help him down, and he took his first attempt at going forward.


    Only for the ground where he had ced his lead foot to immediately crumble, causing his foot to slide. Somehow though, instead of losing his footing entirely, his body had the sense to allow his leg to continue sliding, until it came to a dead stop, with him sat in a deep lunge.


    Surprising himself, Beam marvelled at how he''d somehow managed to remain upright, ncing at Dominus as though to ask ''did you see that?''.


    Dominus merely shrugged upon noticing his nce. "Seems you''ve got some bnce," he said, "but this here is a test of speed and endurance, and you boy, are slow."


    Beam couldn''t refute that. Despite his little feat of bnce that had surprised even himself, he was basically no closer to the bottom. Not only that, but now that he''d moved a little, his tired limbs were reasserting themselves with vigour. Not only were those stones from earlier catching up to him, all the new activity from the past two days were.


    "Guhh¡­" He was feeling the pressure now, and, still sat in that deep lunge of his, was looking for a way to get out of it. He noticed the slight bit of fear that he was feeling after acknowledging the risks of not taking this seriously. Injury was all but certain if a mistake was made. A broken leg or a cracked skull, or if he was really unlucky, death. Despite that, he still wanted speed.


    He noticed a tree a short distance away. There was no chance of him reaching it by mere stretching of limbs alone. In fact, it would require a good few steps before he could even try. But being further down the slope than he was, he had no doubt that he would be going at some speed before he met it.


    Still, he had to try. He had to take risks to make up for hisck of speed.


    Now, instead of fighting the pull of gravity that swept relentlessly down the steep slope, he gave into it, allowing it to pull him a little bit down, granting him increasing speed with each passing heartbeat. And then, just when he thought he wouldn''t be able to stop, he met the tree just ahead and just barely managed to bring himself back to safety.


    "Well, that wasn''t too bad," he muttered to himself.


    "You''re making use of the terrain ¨C good. You''re getting a feel for the gravity too ¨C good. But in speed, you are stillcking. You should have been good at those two things long before now. Come, show me your speed!" Dominus shouted down.


    He didn''t even have to shout really, for Beam still hadn''t made it that far. At thement about speed, he couldn''t help but frown, for he had dared to boast of his speed a little to Dominus the day prior.


    When he was younger, and still able to y without worry ¨C a little time before his parents had died ¨C not only was he a little stronger than the other children, by some small amount, but he was faster too. It was abination that carried his childhood happiness. Being small in stature as he was, he was immensely proud of being able to out-strength kids much bigger than he was, whilst still being faster than even the smallest.


    But as he had grown older, and endured very, he soon learned those small advantages were nothing in the real adult world. Not in their rawest form anyway.


    And just as he had begun to see his strength improve ¨C albeit slightly ¨C he dared to dream of a return to his childhood position, his position as a little further ahead than everyone else.


    Perhaps that was another reason that Beam hated losing, because he was so used to being at the top in those childhood years ¨C of course, top is a rtive term in this case, for it only meant being at the very centre of the peasant vige children in terms of physical achievement and smarts ¨C and he yearned for his ce back there. Anything less felt like nothing.


    There Beam caught himself smiling. He realized - as he felt his body working and solving a puzzle for the first time since his childhood y ¨C that he was actually enjoying himself.


    The fear was lessening now, and he spied the next tree. It was even further away from him than thest one had been, but he leapt for it without hesitation this time, growing bold enough to pick out his nextnding point too as he ran towards it.


    He barely nced at the tree as he used it to slow his increasingly fast downward run, before he moved straight onto the next one.


    And then on to the next one after that. And the next one after that.


    Soon, the closer he came to the river, the quicker he was running out of trees, and instead, it was rotting logs that he grabbed. Logs that weren''t attached to anything, but logs that offered just enough respite from the force of gravity to allow him to slow himself and alter his course.


    Dominus watched him sprint down towards the river, growing faster the more time went on, and he nodded once. "Ah, but there is a limit."

 Chapter 13: The Price of Power - Part 7

    <h4>Chapter 13: The Price of Power - Part 7</h4>


    Beam soon found those words to be true, though he had not heard them.


    His breathing was catching up to him, and by the time he finally made it to the banks of the river, he was thoroughly out of breath. "And that should have been the easiest part too¡­" he realized in horror, being downhill as it was. Now he had the rushing waters of the mountain river to cross, before transitioning to the other side, and its increasingly more rocky terrain, that looked more like a rock climbing course than a running one.


    But he was at the river now, and now that his eyes and his mind had started looking for ways forward, they found it hard to stop. The river was far too wide to cross in a leap. And its waters were too fast for him to attempt to swim through, or even run wade through. Yet, nature had smiled on him, for there were three boulders, roughly zigzagging in a way that allowed one to at least think of crossing.


    From the bank to the first boulder, an old rotting log offered a bridge. Beam grabbed onto it without thinking too hard, and swung with his legs kicking to get across to the first boulder. Just in time, it seemed, for the rotting log split in half, and he saw it crash into the waters behind him.


    Instead of fear though, seeing that he had just escaped the same fate, he felt a huge burst of adrenaline. "This is so much fun," he said aloud.


    Luckily, the next two boulders were within reach without the need for any bridges.


    The second was taller, with a t side, so that it rose up higher than Beam was.


    Looking at the water beneath him, Beam realized that he would be betting it all on the top of the rock not being slippery¡­ If not, he was going to get very cold and very wet and the least.


    "Damn it!" He said, the irritation at being so slow taking over the fear, and he leapt, arms outstretched, his fingers searching for the top of the rock.


    His body crashed into the side of the boulder ungracefully as he managed to get a handhold, and it was with considerable effort that he managed to pull himself up.


    But as he stood on the top of that tall rock, in the middle of that rushing river, the feeling was worth it. Even out of breath, even with his body trembling with exhaustion, there was such an overwhelming exhtion that came with standing on that perch, seeing the water rush its way around him.


    More importantly though, he could see the other side, and he could see that thest few steps were far easier than the first. Gracefully, hended on the third boulder, and then, with a long jump, hended on the opposite shore of the river.


    "¡­Nowes the hard part," he murmured to himself, finally being greeted by the rocky cliff face of the opposite side of the ravine.


    "Yep. No way I''m climbing that," he said. Up close, it was even more intimidating. It started off with a gentle muddy slope that got steeper and steeper, until, towards the middle, it was aplete sheer rocky cliff face, and then beyond that, it went beyond simply being vertical ¨C the cliff curved out the other way into a muddy overhang supported by the roots of the forest''s trees.


    So, rather than going in an exact straight line ¨C since Dominus had said nothing about that ¨C he went along the bank of the river looking for a better spot. And immediately, he was rewarded for doing so.


    He grinned to himself. He would have felt incredibly stupid if he''d struggled all the way up the cliff for no reason at all. For, as soon as he turned the corner of the river''s meander, behind a wall of trees and shrubbery, there was a path up not too dissimr from the way he hade down on the other side.


    Of course, it wasn''t what he could call easy, but it was a far cry from a sheer cliff face. It was at least manageable. Looking at it, he even dared to hope that it might be easier going up than it had beening down.


    Watching this, Dominus grunted in acknowledgement. "And he''s not stupid either," he murmured to himself, taking mental notes. Beam was not aware of it, but the pathfinding skill that he had demonstrated was not necessarilymon. There were many more men that would have been unable to make a decision as to which way to go, ending up at somethingpletely impassable instead.


    Though, Beam had made it look almost easy. Dominus had been barking at him about speed, more in an attempt to make him deal with pressure than anything else, but the hardest part of this little course was certainly the pathfinding necessary. It was a skill hard to teach. One that required intuition.


    "Let''s not get ahead of ourselves though," Dominus told himself, "it''s not like the pathfinding instinct solves everything¡­ though I suppose it''s a good skill to have."


    As Dominus muttered to himself, stroking his chin, Beam made it to the top of the other side. He went through the trees into the forest on the other side of the ravine, exactly where Dominus had pointed and waved over, signifying that he hadpleted it.


    Dominus motioned with his hand for the boy toe back, and he started scrambling down the same way he hade up. Even from a distance, Dominus could see how exhausted he was. But now, after nearly half an hour of practice, he was getting a feel for gravity and for the pathfinding and it took him far less energy to do what had required all his concentration before.


    "He''s got many talents, like you did, Arthur," Dominus murmured to himself. "To think he''d have been born into peasantry¡­ To think he would have been afflicted with Ingolsol''s curse. He might have flown high indeed if only he was protected a little longer."


    Along such a train of thought, Dominus made a stark realization. "And yet, now the boy is progressing again," he mused. "He has a vast base of suffering to build off¡­ if the bnce within him remains perfect, he''d be able to build up an astonishing level of strength. But I suppose, in the end, such a thing is unlikely. As much as he struggles, it is impossible to walk such a road."

 Chapter 14: The Price of Power - Part 8

    <h4>Chapter 14: The Price of Power - Part 8</h4>


    Soon, he was crawling back up the muddy path towards Dominus'' feet, somehow his clothes having remained clean, yet his hands were covered in filth. He copsed on a knee beside Dominus, a look on his face that indicated he was displeased in some way.


    "What?" Dominus asked, after waiting in silence for a few moments, the only sound being Beam''s heaving breaths.


    "I''ve gotten slower¡­" Beam said, realizing for himself that it was true.


    He knew his body rather well. And he was getting to know it even better over these past couple of days. This wasn''t the first time he had been told to run by Dominus. He''d done it a couple of times over the past couple of days in various ways. Sometimes for speed and sometimes for endurance. But all the time it had been on rtively t surfaces, ces fit for running. Nothing like the course that had been set for him today.


    But still, Beam could tell, he was slower than he had been the past two days. Not only had his dreams of getting faster not been fulfilled, but he''d actually gotten slower instead.


    "How is that even possible?" He asked, with big round eyes, looking almost ready to cry. "How can I get slower after training so much?"


    Dominus heaved another sigh, and flicked the boy on the forehead, somehow feeling almost as tired as the boy looked. "Fool," he said. "It''s been two days. That isn''t ''so much training''. Have you not endured a lifetime of pitiful progress? Whyin now?"


    "I thought things would be different¡­ ''cos they were on the stones."


    "Gah¡­ You kids are so damned impatient," he groaned. "Stand up, boy. That''s enough running for now. Join me by the river."


    "But I haven''t done it three times¡­" Beam murmured, the fact of his failure digging into him again. The failures just kept mounting up and up.


    "You''ll have your opportunity. But today you are incapable," Dominus told him, his hands behind his back, as he gracefully leapt from foothold to foothold, as though gravity and the slick mud weren''t an issue. Before Beam knew it, he was at the bottom, ring at him impatiently.


    The re was enough to get Beam to speed up, despite his exhaustion. Besides, he already knew a way down now, so it was much easier than it had been before.


    Dominus brought him to the side of the river that Beam had just crossed earlier, and he pointed at it. "Why does this river not flow straight, boy?" He questioned.


    always were. But now that he was considering it, he supposed there must have been a time when the river wasn''t there at all, and its formation must have been somewhat gradual. So why then did it end up where it ended up?


    "Because of the ravine? Water falls into holes in roads, making puddles. I guess this is just kind of another hole that it fell into?" Beam mused.


    "As true as that may be, that does not answer my question," Dominus said. "This river here springs up from deep within the earth and pours down the ck mountains from a source a few miles north of your vige. Many thousands of years ago, this river will have merely been a trickle of a stream. So then, I ask, why did it widen? Why did its course change? Why did it end up where it is, and how it is?"


    Beam scrunched his eyebrows and shrugged. "I don''t know¡­ It just¡­ kinda¡­ did?"


    "Aha, despite that being a non-answer, you''re closer than you think. The water simply flowed where it was easier for it to flow. Where the soil was softest, the banks of the river crumbled fastest and it widened there. It might suddenly change course after hundreds of years, after breaking through a mud bank further upstream. And so, the river flows where it''s easiest for it to flow. It doesn''t always move as a straight line."


    "¡­I see," Beam mused, processing the information, having forgotten why it was brought up in the first ce.


    Dominus sighed seeing that, noticing the easily distracted gaze of a youth. "And as for your speed, it happened for much the same reason."


    "You mean I got slower because that was the easiest route for it? But then, isn''t it always easier for us to get worse at something?" Beam asked.


    Dominus shrugged. "It isn''t a perfect metaphor, for progress is not a river and a river is not progress. But as you grow older and you try your hand at more things, and you notice the patterns of improvement, you realize the acquisition and the progression of new skills follow much the same routes. There are times when you will be blessed with so much progress, it''s as though the Gods have each granted you their blessing. And then there will be other times when you spend years stagnating in a single ce, or even, as with your speed, you notice that it''s gone backwards."


    "Mm¡­" Beam said quietly.


    "Of course ¨C such a thing is only the case for normal people. The ingredient in making the river flow is struggle, that''s what gives it its current. But in the end, the river will only flow where it might. Had you not been cursed, you would have noted such things as a result of your own struggle ¨C you would have noted the winding path," Dominus said. "Now, perhaps, it will open up to you. But can you truly bnce the seesaw between light and dark? Is your will strong enough to stand in both the shadow and the light? If you only grow your goodness, the darkness will rebel and it will consume you."

 Chapter 15: The Price of Power - Part 9

    <h4>Chapter 15: The Price of Power - Part 9</h4>


    Beam nodded seriously. "I will. No matter what it takes, I will."


    He said it with such ferocity, that even Dominus was inclined to believe him, despite how impossible he knew the task to be.


    "We will see," Dominus said atst.


    Not wanting to risk putting him in a bad mood, Beam changed the subject with a smile. "So what about my speed then?" He asked.


    "What do you mean ''what about my speed''?" Dominus replied, with more than a hint of impatience.


    "Well, I''m still wondering why it went down¡­ Y''know, I get the stuff about progress ¨C but I feel like that''s maybe something that I''ll understand more in the future. Right now, I''m still not really happy for my speed to have gone down after all that hard work," Beam said.


    Another sigh came from Dominus. He was a veritable sighing machine at this point. Whilst Beam was doing his runs and his lifts, it seemed he was training his sigh. He never knew being around a teen would be so exhausting. "Well, ignoring my theories about how progress works for a moment, it''s obviously because you just put all your energy into lifting those stones an hour ago."


    "Oh¡­" Beam clicked his tongue, realizing he should have easily guessed that himself. But still, even that answer didn''t satisfy him. He was starting to dream a dream of progress, and now that it was in his blood, exciting him, he didn''t want to let his ideal go. "But then, if I''m always training strength, how will my speed go up?"


    "It will, in time, if you''re patient. Your body will get used to the continuous exertion, and then you should be able to progress in multiple things at the same time. But that''s merely because you''re a beginner," Dominus warned him, "after years upon years of training, you might find that it''s easier to let your speed slow for a few months, whilst you reach new heights in strength, and then return to speedter on, letting your strength decay a little."


    Beam frowned. He definitely didn''t like the idea of losing progress.


    Dominus noticed the look and hit his shoulder. "Stop. I can see the greed in your eyes. I was young too once, ya know. It''s not like I don''t get it. But the only objective is to progress as fast as you possibly can, and as I said, sometimes the fastest route includes backwards paths."


    "Mm¡­" Beam murmured.


    "Alright, that''s enough talk of that. You''re still trashd, so don''t be getting cocky just yet," Dominus said. "Mm, there isn''t much time left in the day. I am satisfied with the results of these tests ¨C you may go home for now and live your life. But if the dayes when you begin to show signs of losing control, then I will find you and I will y you."


    With just that threat in the air, the old knight began to walk away, his hands behind his back, intent on leaving just as suddenly as he hade.


    "Wait!" Beam called out to him uncertainly.


    Dominus slowed to a halt and briefly nced over his shoulder, the question written on his face.


    "Will you train me?" Beam asked, and then he bowed his head and repeated the question, as politely as he knew how to. "Please."


    Dominus looked at him long and hard for what felt to Beam like an eternity. "Are you aware of what it means to ask a knight such a question?"


    Beam shook his head. "I''m not¡­ But I''m serious. I''m willing to do whatever it takes."


    "You are of the peasant ss, boy. You would need to climb up at least the serving ss before I would even consider taking you on to be an apprentice. Even then, to make a member of the serving ss nobility ¨C it''s nigh on unheard of unless they achieve something great," Dominus said. "Besides, I have taken apprentices in the past and it was a waste of my time."


    With such a thorough rejection, any sane man would have backed off, especially when they knew just how narrowly they had kept their life. To anger a knight ¨C that was a grave mistake. But to anger Dominus of all knights? That was a suicide attempt.


    Then you have no one to leave your sword to, right?" Beam asked.


    "You say that as though it harms me," Dominus said, "it''s an honour to receive a knight''s sword."


    "Mm¡­" Beam was losing track of his thoughts, thinking of so many things at once. "Uhm, Mr Dominus, are you maybe bitter¡­ that you didn''t manage to kill the Pandora Goblin?" He asked carefully.


    Dominus twisted his neck as slowly as an owl as a look of the utmost confusion warped his face. He searched Beam''s eyes, trying to guess what exactly the boy was getting at. But he could find no answer there. Only a wild hunger. His eyes were alight with the same fire that Dominus had seen on the first day that they''d met. The fire that had given him interest in the boy in the first ce. He shuddered and averted his eyes.


    "And if I say that I am?" He admitted indirectly, unable to keep the bitterness out of his voice. "If I say that it wasn''t enough for me merely to wound the creature, after all the effort that I put forth. After all the years of training and all that I''d forsaken on my path for mastery of the de ¨C if I said that I was bitter not to have killed the Pandora Goblin despite that, what would you say?"


    "I''d say that maybe you have a second shot," Beam said, his tongue speaking before his mind could even conjure the thought. He felt for a second that he was flowing along the river of destiny, and a great force was at his back, guiding him forward. "Maybe the progress of your river doesn''t have to end with you. Maybe you could take a bet on a small and shallow stream. That might be your route to ying the Pandora Goblin."

 Chapter 16: The Price of Power - Part 10

    <h4>Chapter 16: The Price of Power - Part 10</h4>


    Dominus squinted at the boy as he slowly walked towards him, pointing a finger. He looked closely at the boy''s eyes, searching for any sign of deceit. "Are you telling me, that you''ll y the Pandora Goblin in my name?"


    It was only then that Beam had enough self-awareness to feel embarrassed. He grew red all the way to his ears, knowing how ridiculous it sounded. He had nothing at all to back up that foolish promise. He was not yet fast, nor strong, nor skilled with the sword, or sharp with his mind.


    "Ah, I mean," he waved his hands out in front of him, panickedly trying to stall for time. "I mean I''m nothing at the moment. I know I''m trash. I''m not really good at anything yet¡­ But maybe if you taught me, I might be in with a shot."


    "Do you know why I have spent all this time in the mountains? Me, a knight of the fifth boundary? It was for that very purpose ¨C so that I might avenge myrade, so that I might finally strike down the brute that is the Pandora Goblin. You have seen the state of my limbs ¨C you know what ckens them. With so little time left, do you really think I''d waste it on a peasant boy without a single skill to his name?" Dominus asked in a raised voice full of anger. "Do you even believe that you can y it?"


    "Uhm¡­ Maybe, given enough time, I think I could?"


    Now Dominus was shouting. "Maybe!? You want me to invest my remaining days in a maybe?"


    From the way he was talking, Beam could feel his anger, and he worried that he was about to walk away at any second. So, without thinking, hemitted himself fully. "Definitely! I''ll definitely do it! If you train me, I''ll definitely y the Pandora Goblin in your name."


    With the silence that followed those bold words, Beam almost closed his eyes in apprehension. He grew even redder, thoroughly embarrassed with himself by now. He was sure Dominus wouldn''t even look at him again after saying something so stupid. The longer the silence stretched on, the more he wanted to take his words back.


    But instead of walking away, Dominus gave him a calm response. "¡­Like I said kid, I''ve been testing you, and I still don''t know your worth."


    With those words, Beam''s heart fell. He was sure it was the build-up to a rejection.


    With a long sigh, Dominus looked up at the sky. Two years he''d spent in the mountains, with nothing to show for it. He was never the type to take apprentices at any point in life ¨C never mind right towards the end, when he was struggling so intensely for a breakthrough.


    ''Arthur¡­'' He murmured to himself in a voice that Beam could not hear. He pictured his valued friend. The hero that was always there in times of need. Who always ced others'' lives above his own. Who continued to sacrifice everything for his country and his people right up until his death. Arthur would never have turned the boy away, be he peasant or ve. But Dominus was not Arthur.


    Dominus had never found warmth or meaning amongst people. It was only through Arthur that he learned how to do that. Sure, the boy had talent, but to bet on him¡­ It was too much of a risk.


    Bringing his eyes back downwards, Dominus looked at Beam, determined to reject him, but instead, what came out of his mouth were words that surprised even him. "I still don''t know your worth boy. I do not know how far you will go. The more progress you make, the more the darkness within you will rage, hoping to consume your spirit. I do not believe you can resist that¡­ But in this long life, I suppose, I have been wrong many times over. I will give you a month."


    "A month?" Beam repeated, his eyes widening in surprise. "Does that mean¡­?"


    Dominus nodded. "I will train you for a month to see what you''re worth, and at the end of the month, I will set tests for you. If you do not pass those tests, I will cast you aside."


    "What kind of tests?"


    "Well, for a start, I can''t have an apprentice of mine being in the bottom rung of such a lowly vige. You''re going to need to sort your reputation out. You''re going to have to change how people see you, so you can form connections," Dominus told him.


    Beam frowned at that. It wasn''t the answer he was expecting. He couldn''t see much point in improving his rtions, and he said as much. "But what does it matter whether I get on with the vigers or not? It''s not like they''ve been good to me. When I tried to settle here after earning my freedom, they didn''t give me an easy time of it."


    "Hah!" Dominus barked hisughter. "The boy is a fool. Don''t tell me you mean to challenge the Pandora Goblin alone? No? Then how do you intend to inspire allies when you can''t even get on neutral terms with some peasants in a remote vige like this?"


    "Ah," Beam gulped again, understanding his folly.


    "Not only that, but responsibility ys a significant role in breaking through the boundaries set by the Goddess udia. Why is that? Her measurement of responsibility is a measurement of connection. She looks to see how connected you are with the people around you. Some people are able to form vast connections, like Arthur was. With those vast connections, they are able to augment their progress, so they need not suffer quite as much for it," Dominus said. "That is why the strength lies in the knights ¨C they take on more responsibility than anyone else. That is why the greatest generals in ournd are often also the strongest swordsmen. The two go hand in hand."


    Beam couldn''t quite hear all that he said. "What was that?" He interrupted.


    Dominus cleared his throat. "Nothing. Besides good rtions with people, you''ll have to learn strategy and you''ll have to learn leadership. There''s no greater danger than an ipetent but charismatic leader. By the end of the month, if you haven''t beaten me in a single game of Battle, you''re unfit to be my pupil. Simrly, if you have not made a single friend by then, you''re unfit. If you prove unable to bnce the growth of light and dark within you, you''re also unfit"

 Chapter 17: The Price of Power - Part 11

    <h4>Chapter 17: The Price of Power - Part 11</h4>


    Beam listened to the list with wide eyes, as though opening them wider would help him process all the information being fired at him. He heard the mention of Battle ¨C the strategy board game that Dominus had been teaching him as ofte ¨C and paled. He could hardly imagine scraping a single win past Dominus. In all their recent games he''d been beaten so thoroughly that it seemed like an impossibility.


    He paled even further at the mention of making a friend and of getting on better terms with the rest of the vige. These tasks were starting to seem impossible.


    "¡­Is... Is that it?" He murmured, almost dizzy from the demands.


    But Dominus merely frowned, smacking him on the head. "Of course it isn''t, you idiot. You''re going to have to get stronger. You''re going to have to get faster too. Your stamina needs building¡­ And as well as all that, I suppose I''d better teach you how to swing a sword and how to fight. You won''t be much good against the Pandora Goblin if all you have is diplomacy."


    Chapter 3 ¨C Blood and Bruises


    The morning of the next day.


    For the first time in what felt like a while, Beam was back in the parts of the mountain forest that felt very familiar to him ¨C namely the area where he had rented his house.


    Dominus had already split up with him, after giving him his tasks for the day. Beam kept looking over his shoulder to see if he could spy the old knight.


    "How are you going to be able to tell whether I''ve done everything that you''ve told me to do?" Beam had asked that morning, as he was given his tasks by Dominus for his mission of going into town ¨C well, into the vige.


    "Whilst I will not be walking beside you ¨C for it would do my reputation no good to be seen with such an unsightly apprentice ¨C I will be watching. You may not be able to see me, but I will see and hear everything that you do. You have no hope of trying to trick me," Dominus had assured him.


    And so here Beam was, wrought with anxiousness, carefully picking his way down the muddy paths, finding his pace slowed the further he got to his house. It had been a few days now. Other vigers had definitely noticed the charred remains of his house as they went into the forest to forage, and word would definitely have spread to thendlord by now.


    Which meant, that whatever happened as he made his return to the vige, none of it would be good. Which brought Beam back to the tasks that Dominus had given him for the day.


    "Sort out the problem with your house, so that people aren''t out looking for your head. And then go into the vige and buy me some bread. See if you can be friendly as you do it," Dominus had told him.


    Beam didn''t need to be reminded about the friendly part. He twisted his lips in annoyance. It was going to be extraordinarily embarrassing to try to be polite after so long spent being abrasive to everyone around him. They''d definitely think something was up, and they''d definitely think something was weird.


    But Beam quickly ran out of time for such thoughts as he spied the familiar side track and cluster of trees that lead to his house. He took a deep breath and followed down it, knowing that whatever happened, it was best to get a look at the state of the mess first, and then he''d at least be able to grovel the appropriate amount.


    It had rained the night before ¨C and of course, Beam was caught outside during it, since that was where he had slept ¨C making all the tracks slick with mud. And such mud was like a canvas for footprints. Every step anyone took would be recorded within the earth for a considerable amount of time.


    "Damn it¡­" Beam cursed to himself. It was by the liberty of the rain and the footprints that sprang up in the dirt in front of him that Beam knew he wouldn''t be alone at the house.


    By the way the sets of footprints kept ovepping, Beam guessed that at least two people had gone towards his house at some time after dawn ¨C when the rain had stopped. Unless they''d left by a different route, the chances were high that there''d still be there now.


    Beam''s legs just got heavier and heavier. The aches from the amount of physical exertion he''d undergone were one thing, but the awful biting anxiety of trouble was so much worse. He hated things like this. Begging for forgiveness¡­ Begging for anything, really. Asking anything of anyone. He felt weak and embarrassed in moments like that, and his body would put up an incredible amount of resistance to avoid them.


    He recalled Dominus'' warning ¨C that the entrance into the Second Boundary was always filled with much suffering. Whether it came from the inside, or the out, the naturalws of the universe would reject this new state of being for a time, and, to adjust to the new bnce, it would take things from you.


    Beam had lost his house after such an evolution. A house that he did not own, and a house that he was now in a considerable amount of debt for. He had also lost the security of his job and the promotion that he had just earned.


    Yet, just like Dominus had said, in return for this sacrifice and the giving up of these things, the Second Boundary nourished a person with seemingly boundless opportunity. Once the initial suffering passed, it was as though the current of life was carrying them along with such love that it was almost frightening.

 Chapter 18: Blood and Bruises - Part 1

    <h4>Chapter 18: Blood and Bruises - Part 1</h4>


    Beam had seen such a thing himself, in his own progress. The sacrifices did not seem to be in vain ¨C he would make sure that they weren''t. But now, he had to deal with their consequences.


    "Still¡­ This too is training," he told himself, remembering Dominus'' words and the promise of progress. Once this was done and out of the way, it would be a huge weight off his shoulders. With those reassurances on his mind, he stepped out into the clearing where his hut oncey.


    Three heads turned upon his approach.


    "I knew it," Beam muttered to himself.


    The men were clearly not there for a negotiation attempt. Each of them had a crude wooden club in their hands and righteously violent expressions on their faces, knowing that they could beat him into submission and be very well justified in it.


    "Well well, look who came crawlin'' back," the leader of the trio drawled. Beam knew him, of course, though he''d always done his best to avoiding into contact with him. Judas was his name, and he was somewhat famous for his thuggish behaviour. Being as big as was ¨C nearly double Beam''s height ¨C there was likely not a single man in the entire vige that could confidently challenge him to a fight. As such, as a debt collector, few were in higher demand.


    "Judas¡­" Beam groaned, scratching his head. "I see you''re as ugly as I remember," he said, unable to help himself. As soon as the words were out of his mouth though, he bit his lip, realizing his mistake. Old habits die hard.


    Though a vein popped in anger on Judas'' bald head, his initial response was tough. "Heheheh! And I see you''re still a little shit, aren''t ya? Tut tut tut, making a mess of yourndlord''s nice little home like this. Y''know, that''s gonna cost ya, right? I''m guessing since you came swaggering back here like that, then you''ve got the money to pay, do ya?"


    "And how much is he asking for?" Beam replied, knowing that he didn''t even have a single copper with which to pay the man.


    "Mm¡­ Since you ran away for a few days n'' all, he''s upped the price to a single gold coin. Sorry about that, little man. I''m guessing you can''t pay, huh?" Judas asked, feigning sympathy, tapping his hefty wooden baton on his meaty palm.


    "No shit," Beam replied, before berating himself internally again. ''Even if it''s these thugs¡­ Master Dominus is definitely listening¡­ I should at least attempt to be polite.'' But the price of one gold was so oundish as to be impossible. In rent, he''d paid 3 coppers per month. A loaf of bread cost a copper quarter. Gold ¨C like silver ¨C was hardly real to Beam at this point. He''d be lucky to see such amounts of money, never mind own it.


    "Ah, I thought as much," Judas nodded with a sick smile, shaking his head. "Well, hate to do this, but we''re going to have to beat the shit out of you now," Judas said, motioning with his hand to his two thug friends.


    They were smaller than him, but they were still big men in their own right. Beam would be lucky to take on even one of them, never mind three.


    "C''mond, nice an'' easy. We''ll get this over with, aye?" One of them said, as they both cautiously approached Beam from either side, sporting wary grins.


    Beam didn''t move from his spot, keeping his eyes on both of them as they came closer and closer. He red warily at the wooden batons that they wielded ¨C a bad hit from those and his chance at getting any training done this month would be gone. He couldn''t beat them, but he could at least lessen the damage.


    "C''mon¡­ HAH!" Using a simple distraction that seemed fitting for their dim personalities, the thug on the left called out quietly, feigning calmness, before lunging in with his bat raised.


    Beam raised his fist, about to give the thug the best hit in the jaw that he could before his partner descended upon him¡­ But then he lowered it and opted to dodge slightly instead, lessening the impact of the wooden bat as it came down, hitting him in the stomach.


    Hended t in the dirt, winded. "Damn it¡­"


    He was already regretting not having hit the debt collector back, when the two wooden batons went to work pounding his sides. Kicks soon followed. But fighting back would only have made them angrier. Even if it sucked, even if it wounded his pride, Beam knew that fighting back would only make things worse and only cause them to hit him harder, raising the risk of injury.


    As much as Beam hated to admit it, he was rather good at taking a beating, from his time spent as a ve. He made each hit thatnded look worse than it was, whereas in reality, he was making the tiniest of adjustments to take the edge off to at least make sure that he didn''t break a bone. Though that didn''t take away the pain. There was no way it could. Wooden bats hurt. And kicks from men of their size hurt just as much.

 Chapter 19: Blood and Bruises - Part 2

    <h4>Chapter 19: Blood and Bruises - Part 2</h4>


    "Tsch, is that it? Already hunching up like a damn turtle?" Judas came strutting over to get his share of the torture in. He wound up his massive leg and booted Beam in the stomach with all the force he could muster. Beam clumsily attempted to time a small jump off his hands with the kick, so that when the kicknded, he went flying. He rolled over himself two times, then three times, then four, before his back hit a tree and he came to a stop.


    Because of his little jump, the kick looked far harder than it was and it even took the sting away. As clumsy as the jump had been, Judas and his fellow debt collectors didn''t seem to notice, for they merely tutted at Beam as hey there sprawled out upon the roots of the tree, coughing up bile.


    "Well, I suppose that''ll do for now," Judas said aloud, resting his baton on his shoulder as he picked wax out of his ear with his free hand.


    Beam red at him with ferocity in his eyes. A look that was enough to make Judas shiver.


    "C''mon¡­ Don''t look at me like that,d. You know I''m just doing my job. Got to get paid, after all. And this just pays better than everything else."


    "Best not leave thendlord waiting too long, boy, otherwise we''ll be back to see you again soon," he said, waving his hand as he left. The two other thugs left with him.


    Dominus watched on as the men left, his eyes narrowed, looking at the boy huddled in a ball on the floor. He''d felt the shift in aura, the presence of darkness. Dominus assumed that the big man Judas must have felt it too, given the look on his face, but being of merely the first boundary, Judas could not sense it nearly as well as Dominus did.


    For Dominus, it sent adrenaline into his bloodstream in an instant. For, after all, it was the presence of a God. The most powerful of all the Dark Gods as well ¨C Ingolsol. Even if it was only the tiniest portion of his presence, in the form of a curse, to a mortal it may as well have been the weight of the entire universe.


    "If the boy knew the true nature of that which he was afflicted with, would he be able to stay so bnced?" Dominus murmured. It was not as though the boy was locking up his emotions either ¨C he was allowing the darkness to present itself, yet he was not losing control over it. It was an unfathomable reality. And likely something only possible after such a long time spent living with it.


    "Gugh¡­" Only when he could no longer hear their footsteps did Beam make any attempt to move. Sitting up was a bit of a nightmare. A horrible bout of sickness overwhelmed him from the ringing in his head, and he wretched up vomit there and then.


    It took a few minutes more before he regained his bearings entirely. His hand went to his face and came away red. His nose was bleeding and there was a cut above his eye, and his clothes were all covered in ash too from the remains of his old home.


    "Heh¡­" he sighed, looking at the blood on his hand. "This is such a pain¡­"


    Out of all the missions Dominus had given him for the month, improving his reputation was going to be the hardest.


    His hand felt around his stomach and ribs. "Not broken, thank goodness," he murmured to himself. No bones were broken, but he was certainly bruised. It would take a good couple of weeks before the results of the violence faded.


    "And now I have to¡­ Go and get bread?" He reminded himself. "Then do that other thing after¡­ Hah."


    He eyed the sky. It was gettingte into the morning. If he didn''t hurry, then he would be doing his runs in the dark.


    He stood on wobbly legs, almost falling back to the floor again. "My head¡­" he moaned as his vision blurred for a few seconds and pain wracked his skull. But it was a dizziness he''d grown used to and it soon stabilized. Then it was the pain of his torso that took over, not letting him forget for a single second the beating he had endured.

 Chapter 20: Blood and Bruises - Part 3

    <h4>Chapter 20: Blood and Bruises - Part 3</h4>


    "This sucks," heined, running a hand through his short hair, getting it out of his eyes. With the cut on his face and the blood on his nose, he had no doubt that he would be getting quite a few funny looks if he went into town. But he shrugged at the thought. ''What do I care?''


    He used the sleeve of his dirty oversized shirt to wipe the worst of the filth and blood away from his face ¨C not that it did much good ¨C and he patted his trousers a few times, as though that would do anything to rid them of the filth that covered them.


    "Well¡­ That''s about the best I can do," he told himself, before kicking his body back into gear with a grunt, taking a few unsteady steps forward as he adjusted to the pain of movement, before his stride normalized and he walked almost as well as he normally might.


    The vige centre ¨C where most of the stores and stalls and all the important housesy ¨C was not a great distance away from where Beam''s house used to be. A twenty-minute walk at most, though it felt longer for Beam, now that he felt the dread welling up again, knowing that he would no doubt encounter further problems in town.


    As he walked on unsteady feet along the well-worn hunting trail, a noise up ahead caught his attention. He twisted his head sharply to look through the trees, unconsciously holding his breath.


    It wasing from a short distance off the trail, but he could not yet see what it was, with the thickly leafed bushes blocking his way.


    He narrowed his eyes. It would certainly not be strange for someone to be there at this time of day. The families were busy foraging in preparation for winter, after all. The men were desperately trying to get in enough wood tost, whilst the hunters took good advantage of the increased demand, and in turn hunted as much as they were able, knowing that there would always be buyers for their wares.


    And yet, despite knowing that it was perfectly normal, Beam still felt the unsatiable urge to check out what it was. He continued down the trail a little further, until he was away from the tallest of the bushes, and then he nced back over his shoulder.


    There, he saw a white rabbit, lying dead on its side, a pained expression frozen on its face. Kneeling beside it was a woman ¨C a beautiful woman. With long ck hair, pale white skin and a dark ck dress with a robe over the top, she seemed quite the mysterious figure. Beam assumed she was burying a pet rabbit, or something of the like, for it was rare to see a rabbit of such white in the wild.


    But as he continued further down the trail and he was able to better see past the bushes, he realized that was not the case at all. She was on her knees with her hands deep within its guts, as though she was searching for something. Beam had seen rabbits skinned and gutted many times ¨C never did anyone spend quite so long with their hands in the animal''s stomach.


    The woman must have felt his gaze, for she stood up suddenly and locked eyes with him. There was a terrible expression on her face, an expression that frightened Beam more than anything else could have. There was not anger, or irritation, there was justplete nk emptiness, as though she were a mere puppet, a puppet without a soul.


    Her pale hands were dyed a deep red as they hung by her side. She stared at him without blinking, before turning on her heel and suddenly walking deeper into the forest.


    Beam watched her go for a second, before gulping and continuing on his way.


    After a few minutes of walking, he emerged from the trees of the forest and his horizon opened up again. He was shocked at how good it felt for the world to feel so spacious. "Well, I suppose I have been in the forest for a good few days¡­" He''d never normally stayed hidden for that long.


    Solgrim vige was located on the expansive ins south of the ck mountains. An area filled with long-grown grasses that had yellowed from the summer sun, and wildflowers and thorns that imed their bit of the wide expanse of territory.


    Clusters of forest would spring up periodically, though most were small. It was at the foot of the mountains, just before they truly began to rise, that the true forest began. And it was in one such forest that Dominus and Beam resided. A few miles south of the mountains themselves, but with altitude to them in ces that it felt like the heart of the mountains already.


    He looked out across the vast ins to his left, as he often did, admiring the expanse of rolling.


    There he saw a woman, stood staring at the sky.


    He ground to an immediate halt.


    "What the hell¡­?" He murmured.


    There, standing, staring at the sky, was the exact same woman he had seen in the forest. The same ck hair, the same dark dress and robe, the same emptiness. And yet her hands were clean. She turned to look at him, just as she had before, unblinking, unmoving.

 Chapter 21: Blood and Bruises - Part 4

    <h4>Chapter 21: Blood and Bruises - Part 4</h4>


    Beam widened his eyes in terror and quickly hurried on his way.


    As he walked further into town, more houses came into view. Thatched roofs and stone walls for the majority. Some white-washed, some with an abundance of wooden beams amongst the stonework, giving them support and style.


    The majority of the houses were small one-story round houses, with just enough room for a small family and a crude chimney for the smoke at the very top.


    Others were more modern, though much fewer in number. They wererger and more rectangr. Some even had multiple stories. Others still might have had small pieces of ss in tiny windows ¨C a rare luxury.


    As the path that Beam was following widened and he hit up the well-worn down dirt of the road, he began to see more people. There weren''t lots of them about, maybe ten or twenty that he could see currently, but all of them were busy, as though they were in a rush to do something.


    A group of three men walked past Beam, heading into the forest that he had just left, one with a bow over his shoulders and another with a knife at his hip for skinning game and a third still with a trapper''s tools overflowing from the wooden-framed backpack he wore.


    They cast him a cautious eye. They knew him, of course. In such a small vige of a mere few hundred, everyone knew everyone. Yet, they did not call out to him. They did not even nod. But that was to be expected.


    Not only were they hunters - earning significantly more than he did digging holes, and with a higher status for it too ¨C they were also his elders by 10 or 15 years. There had been no reason for them to interact previously and there was no reason for them to interact now, especially given the difference in their appearances. Whereas Beam had rarely looked worse ¨C covered in blood and dirt ¨C they were byparison dressed in finery. In wool trousers that looked as though they were no more than a few years old. In leather boots that might even have been made to fit them perfectly. And with dyed woollen tunics over the top of them that might even have recently been considered fashionable.


    They walked past each other without a single word.


    The further down the road Beam went, the closer to the houses he came. He saw one family''s cowzily munching away on the grass, looking up at him with sleepy brown eyes, before going back to what she was doing.


    Chickens were running about everywhere too. Some households had attempted to put fences up to keep them contained, whereas others seemed to have half given up, keeping the animals in check with food instead.


    And with the livestock, there was a different animal too, asionally getting in his way. Children. Beam grunted in distaste as one boy almost ran into him, without a single word of apology.


    Usually at this time of year, just before winter began, even children would be busy helping to prepare for the cold. But it seemed they couldn''t be contained too much, as, just like Beam had when he was their age, they still got in just enough time to y so that they did not tear up their houses with their antics.


    One of the local mothers was standing washing clothes in arge wooden bucket by the door of her roundhouse hut, keeping an eye on her children as she did so. Seeing Beam, her look of contentment faded and was reced by one of anxiousness.

 Chapter 22: Blood and Bruises - Part 5

    <h4>Chapter 22: Blood and Bruises - Part 5</h4>


    "Boys!" She called out, fighting to keep the urgency out of her voice. "Boys! Come on in and get a drink. Come on! Quickly!"


    Beam averted his gaze, embarrassed. That interaction stung his heart more than being simply ignored did. "Tsch¡­" He tutted to himself, taking a nce down at his clothing. "Do I really look that bad?"


    And yes, indeed, he did look that bad. He looked like a corpse that had just gotten up off a battlefield and was about to spread death to the world. More than that though, it was his reputation that made his appearance all the more damning and Beam knew as much.


    "I don''t think there''s any reason to be scared of me though?" Beam muttered to himself as he wandered further into the vige, towards its centre "I haven''t done anything that bad¡­" He recalled the times that he''d been in a fight. There were more times than he could count, really. But he''d never gone out of his way to pick on the weak. In fact, in every fight he''d been in, it''d been against someone much bigger and stronger than he was, and as a result, most of those fights were losses.


    But from the viger''s point of view, he was just a troublemaker. The dark look that he often wore as he went about his business was one thing, but his general unwillingness tomunicate excessively with anyone was another. Not a single person in the entire vige had ever been able to get friendly with him. That, coupled with the fact that he was an outsider, his appearance and his often violent tendencies ¨C it was more than enough to make therge majority of the vige show distaste for him, and in some ces fear.


    As Beam muttered to himself in thought as he wandered down the dirt road, scarred by wagon wheels, the looks he received were only growing worse. Two women in their thirties walked past with horrified expressions, as though they''d just stumbled upon a ghoul. ''Great'', Beam thought to himself, ''not only do they think I''m a dirty vagabond, they also think I''m mad now too.''


    But that didn''t stop his muttering, for the women soon passed, and there were thoughts he had to sort through. "This whole improving my social standing thing ¨C it''s going to be such a pain in the ass. How do I even start with these people? I don''t have money¡­ And whilst I''m training I''m not going to be able to work to get any either, I guess. So how do I fix my clothes and my appearance? Is that even enough?"


    As he muttered to himself, he passed one of the vige''s wells, and even more vigers as a result. They, just like the others before them, shot him simrly wary nces. One man ¨C a father likely ¨C went as far as to push his daughter behind his back and reach for his knife at his hip.


    Beam frowned at that. ''Come on!'' He thought to himself. ''They''ve seen me around before. I''ve never attacked a child. Why''s everyone acting like I''m about to go on a killing spree just because I''m a little banged up?''


    Soon he was able to see the signs of a couple of the vige''s storese into view. There were three main stores ¨C as in shops that were housed in buildings. The biggest of which was a cksmith, with the entire ground floor of a two-story house dedicated to the business. The vigers were rather proud of that smithy, for it was rare that a man capable of making weapons and armour would choose to settle in a ce so remote. But this one had been offered considerable incentive by the Lord''s son ¨C who''d been ced in charge of this particr vige ¨C so that he might stay and offer his services to the townspeople.


    The other two stores shared the same building, a house of the same size as the smithy, with stone walls and a thatched roof. The bottom floor of that house was divided into two. On one side, there was a general merchant that sold everything from clothes and threads to firestarters and wooden buckets.


    On the other side, there was a bakery, run by an old couple. The old man tended to the food, whilst the old woman tended to the store. There was always a wonderful smell streaming from that building,peting with the smaller food stalls that were simrly set up inside the vige centre.


    Beam nced around, checking for someone. This was the part of the vige where thendlord lived ¨C a merchant by the name of Greeves. He owned one of the only two three-story buildings built in the entire vige. His home was just at the other end of the vige square ¨C beyond where the numerous vige stalls had been set up for the day in the very centre ¨C overlooking all the goings on.


    The only other three-story house was left empty. It was used by the local Lord''s son whenever he came to visit ¨C since he was in charge of ensuring the prosperity of the ce ¨C which turned out to be rather rarely, especially ofte.


    Beam breathed a sigh of relief after he''d made sure Greeves wasn''t around, before he pushed open the ill-fitted wooden door of the bakery and stepped inside.


    "Wele," the old woman began enthusiastically, before finishing with what could only be described as an incredible amount of disgust.


    She had a high table filled with various freshly cooked goods, set in front of a door to another room, which Beam could only assume lead to the kitchen, where the old man was hard at work.


    There were various pastries and pies strewn across there, all of them smelling delightful and tempting, but Beam did not have the money for such things. He only had a single copper quarter on him ¨C one that Dominus had given him ¨C which was just barely enough for a loaf of bread.


    "What bread do you have for under a copper quarter please?" Beam asked as politely as he could. He wouldn''t normally ask such a question. In fact, he''d never spoken to the old woman in his life. He''d only ever merely pointed to get what he wanted.


    "Eh?" The old woman for her part was startled. Her pale blue eyes widened in shock and her grey hair ¨C tightly pulled back in a bun and held in ce under a cap on her head ¨C visibly jumped in shock.


    She, like the rest of the vigers, had seen the boy about. And she, like the rest of them, had shaken her head in disgust, especially when he came into her establishment, as dirty as he was, acting all impolite, refusing even to speak. So, when she finally did hear his voice and she heard just how well-spoken he was, her brain froze in shock. That was not the kind of voice she''d imagined him having. That was not the kind of way she imagined him being able to speak.

 Chapter 23: Blood and Bruises - Part 6

    <h4>Chapter 23: Blood and Bruises - Part 6</h4>


    "Ah¡­" She caught herself merely staring at him without having yet given him a reply. "We have bandages if you need them¡­" She said carefully, seeing the wounds on his face. Oddly, merely from hearing the sound of his voice, a barrier had already broken, and she couldn''t help but see in him the same things she had seen in her own children. The same humanity and the same propensity for suffering. She was normally kind-hearted at the best of times, but even she didn''t know quite why she offered to help a boy such as him.


    "Sorry¡­" Beam murmured, scratching his head. "I don''t have the money to pay for them," he said awkwardly.


    "I understand," the old woman nodded, though she''d never intended to make him pay in the first ce. But seeing the stubbornness in his eyes, she could tell that even if she said as much, he would refuse her again. "About that bread then¡­ We have a round hard loaf for a quarter of a copper and these seeded buns for the same price. Are any of them to your taste?"


    "Uhmm¡­" Beam wasn''t quite sure, since it was his new master that he was buying for. Picturing Dominus in his head, he guessed what he''d like. "I''ll have the round hard loaf then, please," he guessed.


    "As you wish," she nodded, picking up the te that it was sitting on and holding it out to Beam for him to take. Beam ced the copper quarter on her palm in return and lifted off the hard loaf.


    "Thank you," he said.


    "Thank you for your business," the old woman said in reply, offering him a friendly, searching smile.


    Beam dipped out of the shop before she could say any more. Even that much conversation was getting his heart bumping. He didn''t know how to respond to kind words anymore. Or friendliness. Or anything of the like. ''Then¡­ why do I find it so easy to talk to Master Dominus?'' Beam thought to himself. Though it would be a stretch to say he found it ''easy'' to talk with his new master, he certainly found it easier than anyone else in the vige. ''That''s probably just because of how strange he is," Beam told himself.


    Now, with the bread in his hand, he''d sessfullypleted one of his tasks. Bread had been acquired. Whilst he hadn''t exactly managed toplete the task of getting his house sorted, he''d at least hopefully ovee the worst part ¨C which he assumed would just be showing his face initially.


    He looked at the sky, deciding that he would go home for the day. The n had been to make contact with hisndlord somehow, but with the state that he was in, he didn''t think it would be wise to do that.


    At the very least, he''d made contact with Judas, an employee of hisndlord, so he wouldn''t be used of refusing to show his face.


    He figured that, at the very least, he''d pay Loz a visit and apologise for missing work, and let him know that he wouldn''t be digging for some time into the future, out of respect for how well the foreman had treated him.


    But he would have to dart across the marketce in order to reach the digging spot, and at this time of day, it was a near certainty that Loriel would be there. "Guhh¡­" realizing such a thing made Beam groan. He could go the long way around to avoid her for a certainty, but it was such a distance more that he was hesitant to do it.


    He decided that he would just hurry across the marketce instead, figuring that if he was quick enough, she wouldn''t see him. "Besides," he reasoned, "she''s probably working anyway."


    That n was foiled almost immediately. Beam had begun to dart through the crowd of people, doing his best to work around his bruised body, only for a voice to call out to him.


    "Beam!" Came the sound. Beam nced behind him, nning to dodge her ¨C there were enough people in the crowd for him to manage it. But the attack came from the side instead and before he knew it, there was a slender arm over his shoulder and a concerned face peering down at him.


    "Oh goodness¡­" she murmured, gently feeling around his bruises. "Judas did this to you?"


    Beam reluctantly nodded.


    "I heard what happened, that your house got burned down. I was really worried when they said they couldn''t find you, that you hadn''t shown up at work¡­ Are you really doing okay?" Loriel asked, her concern genuine.


    "I''m fine, it''s just a few bruises," Beam said honestly. "And I''ll get the business sorted with Greeves soon enough as well."


    Loriel stroked his hair. "You''re such a good boy. Even after you worked so hard, such cruel things keep happening to you, don''t they? And yet you don''t give up. You''re so strong," she said, reaching into her dress and pulling out her handkerchief. She gently began to dab the blood on the worst of Beam''s wounds.


    Beam didn''t know what to say, so he said nothing, he merely stood there awkwardly as Loriel cleaned his face. "There you go," she said finally, offering him a gentle smile. "I''m going to have to leave you now and head back to work. But if you''re struggling, sweetie,e and find me, okay? I''ll help you out."


    "Okay. Thank you," Beam said, knowing that agreeing was the only way to put her worries at ease.

 Chapter 24: Blood and Bruises- Part 7

    <h4>Chapter 24: Blood and Bruises- Part 7</h4>


    She smiled at him again as she waved goodbye. "Keep fighting, Beam," she said.


    He sighed as she left, as though it had been an inconvenience, but he could not deny that he felt just a little bit warmer for her concern. He felt bad to have worried her.


    As he nned, he went to meet Loz. The foreman was simrly forgiving.


    "I heard about your house,d. That''s a rough business that is. Don''t you worry about missing a bit of work ¨C the job will always be waiting for you toe back to. I''ll never turn away such a good worker," Loz told him.


    Beam smiled and thanked him, before returning home with bread for his new master.


    Chapter 4 ¨C A Meeting With The Devil


    The following day¡­ Beam wished he was dead.


    Because at least with death, he wouldn''t have to feel this awful pain. He rolled out of bed, groaning. Something tickled his throat, and he coughed into his hand, just in case his master wasn''t up yet. His hand came away red.


    He looked at it, surprised only for a moment. "Figures¡­" he said to himself. "I did take a few hits to my stomach."


    As sad as it was, Beam wasn''t exactly unused to seeing blood in his spittle after a particrly harsh beating. This time was no different.


    "Mm¡­" A voice came from over his shoulder, startling him into standing. Beam looked back in surprise, to see his master crouching where he was once sitting, a thoughtful look on his face.


    "Well," he said, standing upright. "You''d better make sure you don''t take too many more beatings like that. If you get into another fight without my permission, the test is over," he said firmly.


    "Wait, but Master Dominus!" Beam shouted. "Yesterday it wasn''t my fault ¨C there was no avoiding getting beat up by Judas and his lot."


    "It wasn''t Judas that did all the damage. It''s that stomach of yours," Dominus said, lifting Beam''s shirt and pointing to the scar. "Liver, mm? An old injury, to be sure, but that organ will be vulnerable now. Make sure you never get hit there again."


    There was now a solid purple bruise developing over the scar in the shape of a heel print, confirming Dominus'' theory. "So, do what I say. You''re going back into town today to sort this mess with your house out. And, you''re going to do it without getting into any fights. Understood? There will be no more opportunities for failure."


    "¡­I understand," Beam nodded reluctantly. He was well and truly a mess right now. He knew it was for his own good to avoid getting into any more fights ¨C at least without his master''s permission. It wasn''t just that bruise over his old scar either, it was nearly his entire torso and back that was coated ck and blue. There was a purple bruise over his eyebrow as well and another developing by his ear from Judas'' punch, though that was harder to see because of his hair.


    It wasn''t only the fights he''d been in that were leaving him sore either. He''d trained again yesterday, without missing a single task. And that was the first day he had trained fighting too, sparring with his master.


    Seemingly on the same wavelength, that was what Dominus brought up as well. "Now, we''ll see how well you remember. Throw your best strike, as I taught you," Dominus said, holding out his hand as a target.


    The sudden lesson caught Beam off guard, but he soon took a breath and readied himself, getting into a fighting stance, with one foot in front of the other and his hands ready.


    "No," Dominus told him, hooking his back leg from under him, tripping him up. "You must be ready to throw a strike no matter what position you find yourself in. Your opponent will not wait for you to find your footing. You must feel the gravity of every movement and every position, so you can flow into your most powerful strike even when you find yourself somewhere foreign."


    Beam grunted, picking himself up off the ground. "I thought you were saying I needed to stop getting injured," heined.


    "I did," Dominus told him, "but I did not tell you that you would no longer feel pain. Up. Strike it."


    Beam did as he was told. Without thinking too much about getting into the perfect stance, he closed the distance between them and threw the most powerful strike that he was able.

 Chapter 25: A Meeting With The Devil - Part 1

    <h4>Chapter 25: A Meeting With The Devil - Part 1</h4>


    "¡­Good," Dominus said in a rarepliment. "You have two things going for you at the moment ¨C your strength is improving rapidly and it seems the basics of martial artse naturally to you too. Now, a kick."


    This time Beam didn''t make the mistake of scampering to ready himself. As soon as Dominus lifted his hand high in the air as a target, Beam leapt up, kicking up above his head and striking the target down.


    He felt an unbelievable amount of satisfaction as hended, pleased by his own transitions.


    "As I thought," Dominus murmured. The basics really dide naturally to the boy. He''d only been given one lesson ¨C even if it was a rather long one ¨C yet he''d retained the knowledge seemingly perfectly. There was already a marked difference between how capable he was as a fighter today, versus how he''d been yesterday.


    Against Dominus'' expectations, Beam continued to flow. His progress wasing more rapidly than it ever should have for one afflicted by Ingolsol''s curse. Dominus expected that toe with imbnce, he expected to feel the darkness rise of Beam more and to feel it consuming his soul. But he saw none of that. The boy remained himself.


    ''He has an unbelievably bnced spirit,'' Dominus thought to himself. ''And to think, the boy would have gone his whole life merely struggling had he not managed to break through that Second Boundary¡­ He''ll be special ¨C if only he can survive.''


    "But it is merely a start. You are still far from ready," Dominus told him.


    Beam grinned at that, sensing that aplementy beyond it. "Heheh. Do I have a talent for fighting then, master? You said that you had talent if you improved quickly or if you started off better than everyone else, right?"


    "Fool," Dominus said, flicking Beam''s forehead. "Your training has merely begun. Do not dream of talent when it likely will evade you. Think only of progress. You have 3 weeks and 6 days remaining. There''s much work to do."


    "But I am progressing quickly, right?" Beam protested. "I managed to get 15 lifts of that second stone yesterday, didn''t I? Isn''t that crazy fast? It''s only been a couple of days. I must at least have talent in strength then, right?"


    "Fool," Dominus said again, flicking him harder this time. "Those are merely the improvements of a beginner. Your body is merely getting ustomed to the movement. It is too soon to dere that you have grown so much stronger. Besides, what of your speed? Not only have you not improved in that, but yesterday you were even slower."


    "Geh¡­" Beam choked a little at that. It was something he couldn''t even attempt to refute. Despite his strength steadily increasing, yesterday, his speed has gotten even worse, which he found truly troubling.


    "Not only that, your reputation has yet to show any signs of improvement. Not to mention you making any friends," Dominus pointed out.


    "I think the olddy in the bakery is warming up to me a little, right?" Beam said.


    Dominus shrugged, barely hiding his grin. "It is my right as a master to make things as difficult for you as I please. Whether that happens to coincide with mymand being rather amusing to me, that''s pure coincidence," he said.


    "Gr¡­" Beam made an exasperated noise, seeing that his master was clearly having fun with some of these missions that he was assigning him. But as his apprentice, or pupil, he figured he didn''t yet have any right toin too much.


    "You will go into town again today, as I said," Dominus continued, "and get this business with your house resolved once and for all. You will also go to the bakery for my bread again and you''ll bring it back ¨C without getting it dirty this time, mm? No more failures."


    "Yes, master Dominus," Beam replied seriously, determination in his eyes.


    "Bow when you receivemands from your master, boy," Dominus told him.


    "Like this?" Beam asked, bending slightly at the hips with his hands behind his back and his eyes cast down to the floor.


    "Mhm. And don''t forget it either. Even if it is for only a month, you will treat me with the respect expected of you as an apprentice. You have not put in your years of servitude like most apprentices are required to do, so you will have to make up for the lost time in other ways."


    Beam nodded again. "Should I be off into town then, master?" He asked, seeing that the sun was already up and there was plenty of light ¨C the vige stores would be open already too.


    "Mm," Dominus hummed thoughtfully, eyeing him up and down, as though trying to decide upon something. "No¡­ I think you should train for a couple of hours first. Today will likely be yourst day of such strong progress in strength, so you had better squeeze every drop you have out of yourself, if you wish to progress more rapidly in future," Dominus told him.

 Chapter 26: A Meeting With The Devil - Part 2

    <h4>Chapter 26: A Meeting With The Devil - Part 2</h4>


    Beam''s eyes lit up with excitement at the mention of stones. He was growing more and more fond of the movement, even though it left him exhausted every time. It was just so exciting to see himself progress so quickly, and every time he lifted them, he seemed to set a new record. With those records came a feeling of invincibility ¨C although shortsting ¨C as though he could go anywhere and achieve anything. It was an addictive feeling.


    Beam didn''t need to be told twice. Though he hadn''t eaten breakfast yet or had anything to drink, he skipped over to where the stones were without too much fuss and began lifting the lightest of them to warm himself up.


    "You''ll run after as well," Dominus said. "I have a feeling your speed might begin to return today."


    "Yes, master," Beam said, without pausing his lifting. Now, on the lightest of the stones, Dominus let him do as he pleased, telling him it was his responsibility to make sure he was adequately warm before the true workout began. Beam spent a little longer than usual on that first stone, since his body was so sore.


    The earliest lifts racked his body with an intense pain as all his bruised musclesined. But the warmer he got and the more blood he got in his muscles, the pain became more manageable, and, surprising himself, he even began to feel rather strong.


    "All warm?" Dominus asked, noticing that he was nearly finished.


    "Yup," Beam said, doing a couple of light stretches on top of it, testing the true extent of his warmness.


    "Good. Get the second stone. Aim for twenty. You''ll do the third stone for as many as you can after." Dominus told him.


    It was the first time Beam had touched the third stone in a few days. His only time lifting it had been on his first day of training, before he and his master had agreed to this new contract. And, back then, it had been his absolute limit. He''d managed to lift it once in a magnificent struggle, and then he was finished. He could lift no heavier.


    Today, even with his body as bruised as it was, even though everything seemed to be against him, it was as though electricity was bouncing through his body, energising him. For when he rolled the second stone towards him and lifted it up in his first attempt, it moved with such ease that he nearly lost bnce.


    "Woah!" He said aloud as he regained his footing and finished the lift. Dominus nodded at him to put it down. "That was way too easy," Beam nearly shouted with excitement.


    "Such is the will of progress. Logic often eclipses it. ''I''m hurt today, there''s no way I''ll be able to set a new record. I''m sick. I''m tired. It''s hopeless. I''ll just give up''. And then despite all that, progress pushes you on, like the current of a strong river¡­ But you still have 19 more to god," Dominus said, falling into philosophy, before catching himself and urging his apprentice onwards.


    Or so Dominus said, but with a finger on his chin, he felt his eyebrow twitch. Beam''s progression was going rather differently than he had thought. As he was now, he was progressing more like a normal boy. Actually, beyond that, he was progressing like someone with talent.


    Beam nodded his head in understanding. His master was fond of talking of progress. He spoke of it like an alchemist would speak about herbs. It was his science that he sort to master. A strange science, to be true, but Beam supposed that Dominus was likely the best in the world at it. How else could he have overtaken the hero Arthur despite having none of the talent?


    His master''s words inspired him, and if his master predicted further progress today, then further progress there would be. He lifted the stone a second time, and a third, a fourth and a fifth. Each of them were so easy that he wouldn''t have been surprised if the weight was changed. Compared to mere days before, he felt like a different person. It hardly made sense to him. It was like¡­ "Magic," he murmured to himself.


    Dominus nodded at that conclusion. "Progress is indeed a magic of us mortal men. Be patient with it and seek to understand it and it will offer you all the power in the universe."


    The words inspired him and Beam lifted with even more vigour. He cleared ten lifts before he even had time to feel tired. It was only by the fifteenth lift that he was reminded he was still flesh and blood ¨C not yet machine. That was when the fatigue began to kick in, but only barely.


    He took a brief moment to catch his breath. That was all he needed. He finished thest five without the need of another pause. He made it look easy. He felt as though he could have done ten more. But those were not his master''s instructions.


    "Good, very good," Dominus nodded in approval. Beam wasn''t sure whether it was his progress that he was satisfied with, or whether it was Dominus'' own predictionsing true that made him seem so pleased. He figured it was likely both. "Onto the next stone then," his master said, "lift it as many times as you can."


    It was only as he rolled the second stone back and he rolled the third stone forward that Beam remembered to be nervous. This was a big stone, he realized. Even just rolling it towards him wasn''t easy. It was nearly twice as big as the previous one ¨C an intimidating monster. He gulped, unable to calm his heartbeat, his adrenaline souring.


    His legs felt weak as his body tried to convince him that he was more tired than he was. His mind got involved too, telling him that they should merely take it easy. Going any harder would only lead to him hurting himself. Besides, hadn''t he gotten a record that day already? Why push further? Why be greedy?


    "Don''t listen," Dominus said, seemingly guessing what was going on inside him. Beam turned his head in surprise to meet his eye. "In this moment, you are not Beam. You are not an ex-ve. You are not flesh and you are not bone. You are merely an instrument. An instrument of progress. An instrument that exists to lift this stone and put it down again. Clear your mind of useless thoughts and begin."

 Chapter 27: A Meeting With The Devil - Part 3

    <h4>Chapter 27: A Meeting With The Devil - Part 3</h4>


    Beam bit his lip and began, feeling re-energized by his master''s words. He brought the stone towards him, wrapped his arms around it and brought it up to hisp, just as he had done with the second one. He finished it the same way ¨C by lifting it up to his chest and dropping it once his master gave the signal.


    One lift. Beam let out a breath to steady himself. It was heavier than the second stone, that much was obvious. But it moved. It had moved without him needing to give everything he had. The shape was different to the second one too ¨C as well as obviously the size and weight ¨C so his positioning wasn''t quite as good as it could have been.


    The second lift was better, as was the third. He was growing more confident with each rep. He settled into a steady rhythm as his technique began to dial itself in to the point of near wlessness. He was a stone-lifting machine, just as his master had said. Up and down he went, ignoring his struggle, ignoring the shake of his legs. He pushed past his limits without pause. It was not until after the tenth lift that his body refused to do any more and the stone merely rolled out of his hands when he went to grab it.


    He moved to run after it,pletely caught up in his task by now, not noticing his own exhaustion, but his master was there to bring him back from the void.


    "That''ll do," he called out. Beam looked back as though waking from a trance and the fatigue hit him all at once. He copsed to one knee and took rapid gasping breaths.


    Dominus handed him a cup of cool water, fresh from his jug, voured with pine needles. Beam gulped it down gratefully.


    "Ten¡­" Dominus murmured, as he took a seat beside him.


    "That''s¡­ good¡­ right?" Beam asked between breaths, not quite able to tell from the look on his master''s face.


    Dominus looked at him with a shake of his head, his eyebrows twitching. "For someone your age and size, with as little training as you have, to be lifting more than half the weight of a man in the form of a slick stone? That''s unbelievable," he muttered. "You have far more talent than I ever did¡­ Perhaps you really might be the one to y the Pandora Goblin." He said that second part so quietly that even though Beam strained his ears as hard as he could, he still couldn''t catch all of it.


    "What was that?" He asked.


    "Nothing," Dominus said, regaining hisposure and pushing himself back to his feet. "You''ll go easy on the strength training for the next two days and then you should be able to progress further¡­ As for your strength test¡­ mm¡­ let''s see. Lift the fifth rock ten times."


    "BWEG!?" Beam almost spat his drink out. The fifth rock was HUGE, by his estimation. The fourth rock was nearly twice as big as the third and the fifth rock was nearly twice as big again after that. Not only was the weight an issue, but with the size of it it''d be near impossible to wrap his hands all the way around, and to rest it on hisp too¡­ It would be a problem.


    "Are you¡ª are you sure that''s even possible?" Beam asked, panicked.


    "Oho," Dominus looked at him with a wry smile. "So there are limits even to your own expectations? Rx. Lifting that much weight won''t suddenly give you the power to take over the world. It will merely be a good start. That fifth stone is about the weight of a man. Granted, it''s much harder to lift that as a slick stone, but it''s still not an unGodly amount of weight. I think your good friend Perth might even be able to do twice that weight."


    Beam twisted his face at the sarcasm. "He''s not my friend¡­" he said bitterly, before processing what had been said and brightening up a bit. "So you''re saying I''ll have half the strength of Perth? And all that before the end of the month?"


    "Mm, possibly. You''ll likely have a little over half his strength," Dominus said nonmittal.


    "But how will I manage to beat him and his two friends at the same time if I''m only half as strong as he is?" Beam asked.


    Dominus tutted in disgust. "I''m going to give you the benefit of the doubt and assume you''re only asking such a stupid question because you''re tired."


    "What do you mean?" Beam asked, surprised. True, his heart was still beating wildly from the earlier exertion, but he didn''t think his question was that bad.


    "It''s not only strength you''ll be fighting him with, foolish boy. It''ll be strength, multiplied by a new speed, multiplied by a month of martial arts training. If you can not beat him with all those factors in your favour, then not only do you have no talent, you barely qualify as a functioning member of society," Dominus told him with his usual venomous tongue.


    "Ah¡­" Beam reddened, embarrassed. With his strength progressing so wildly, it featured strongly in all his daydreams about his future potential, and he kept forgetting about everything else.


    "Up now, before you waste too much time, there''s running to be done. Then you''re going off into town again." Dominus said, dragging his apprentice to his feet.


    ¡­


    ¡­


    As Beam walked back into town, for the second time in two days, he did so this time with a considerable spring in his step. His morning really could not have gone any better. The sun was sat high in the sky, just before its highest point and the world to Beam was feeling just as sunny as the sky looked.


    Not only had his stone lifts gone as well as they had, with a thoroughly ridiculous new record of twenty lifts on the second stone and ten lifts on the third. But also, immediately after that, despite his exhaustion, his running had actually gone well. There seemed to be a sudden reversal of fortunes.

 Chapter 28: A Meeting With The Devil - Part 4

    <h4>Chapter 28: A Meeting With The Devil - Part 4</h4>


    Dominus had taken him up higher into the mountain forest and set him loose on one of the many trails. This one had beenpletely unbreeched and vegetation barred it as strongly as iron-barred prison doors. He''d been made to go through it by himself, with no one to break it down for him, and he''d been made to do it as fast as he could.


    So it was through a ridiculous thorny mess of stringy vegetation that he''d charged, before being hit with a steep gravelly hill, that offered no grip for him tounch himself off of. He''d nearly fallen down it. And then the course ended with the hill turning upwards again, switching from mud to rock, in a just barely runnable finale.


    He''d had to do that three times, and indeed he''d managed it.


    But it wasn''t the managing it that had got him so excited, it was the speed he''d done it at. He''d leapt through the first obstacle far faster than he could have expected to. More jumping through it than running. Then, once the paths had cleared somewhat, he was given a near-open course ¨C well, as open as courses that Dominus'' set were likely to be ¨C to test just how fast he was.


    And whilst he didn''t find any sign of a new increase in speed, he did find the return of the speed that he''d lost. He felt the familiar velocity of a particrly good day of running that he would have had had he been at his best. And that to him was a good sign.


    Dominus had noted it too. "So there''s the speed you''ve been boasting about," he said. "Not too shabby. Though I really have to wonder just how stupid you are to think that this ¨C your supposed best ¨C was enough to brag about?"


    Even with such a thornyment from his master, Beam''s mood couldn''t have been sullied, for he was running just as fast as he was previously able to, despite being as exhausted and battered as he was.


    Not only that, but he noticed that his endurance was going up too. It took him a good bit longer for him to lose his breath.


    "Things just keep on improving," he said to himself with a smile as he walked humming back down the mountain trail, back towards his house.


    Of course, his mood quickly sullied as soon as he remembered just what missions he had to aplish that day. He had to go and see hisndlord, Greeves ¨C a detestable man at the best of times ¨C and somehow work out a deal with him as repayment for burning down the house that he''d been renting.


    When he thought about that, yesterday''s bruises began to ache. He wondered if Judas would be around when he went to visit? Probably¡­ It was rare that Greeves went anywhere without a bodyguard, since it was clear that he had no shortage of enemies, given how ruthless a businessman he was.


    "This is going to be so rough¡­" Beamined to himself. He had absolutely nothing to offer Greeves in exchange for the house. He''d lost all his money. He didn''t have any possessions to trade, save the clothes on his back. In situations like these, it wasn''t umon for the debtor to be pressed into very, Beam realized.


    He clenched his fist at that thought. If they even showed a hint of trying anything like that, he would do everything he needed to do. His eyes darkened at the thought. Someone like Judas, he definitely couldn''t beat in a fight, not as he was now. But he didn''t need to win the fight. He simply needed to incapacitate or kill him, should things go awry.


    He caught his fantasies begin to run away with themselves. "Damn, what am I even thinking? I''m not even allowed to fight, on Dominus'' orders. He''s my ticket out of this kind of mess. If I put up with it for a bit longer, by the end of the month, I should be a different person entirely¡­ Yeah. For sure. If I''m as strong as Perth or Judas, I might even be able to get a better job. I''ll be able to save money up so something like this will never happen again¡­ But before that, I need to do as master Dominus says and get my reputation sorted. It''s going to suck today and maybe for a couple of weeks, but if I sort it now, that''s one less thing to worry about in future."


    With such long speeches, he fought tofort himself, but he still couldn''t quell the anxiety and he was covering ground far quicker than he would have liked to, despite his legs beginning to slow down in anticipation for what he knew would certainly be a terrible experience.


    "Well, anyway. I''ve made so much progress with my strength. If I put the effort in, maybe I''ll get swept up in the river of progress that master Dominus is always on about, and things will get so good I can''t even imagine them¡­ yeah¡­" he encouraged himself, only half believing what he said. Indeed, he couldn''t imagine what things would be like should his reputation and social standing improve. He couldn''t imagine it at all. In his mind, for the past two years, he''d been at war with the vige.


    He stumbled into town absent-mindedly, looking only slightly better than yesterday. He''d made sure to clean his face before going in this time, so he at least wasn''t covered in blood ¨C even if his eye was bruised. But he''d forgotten to wash his clothes or his hair, so he was still looking rather worse for wear.


    He passed the bakery that he''d bought bread from yesterday and spared it a nce. "I''ll go afterwards," he told himself, just in case anything went wrong. It wouldn''t do for Dominus'' bread to get dirty.


    In the vige centre, on a day as sunny as today, it was as busy as it ever got. Carts from travelling merchants were parked up against the sides of houses, as barrels and sacks of corn and all kinds of goods were unloaded.

 Chapter 29: A Meeting With The Devil - Part 5

    <h4>Chapter 29: A Meeting With The Devil - Part 5</h4>


    People talked animatedly in front of stalls, as buyers attempted to haggle their way down to lower prices and merchants made shows of walking away and cancelling the deal entirely when they went too low.


    It was through that crowd of people that Beam had to force his way through. He headed to the big white three-story house at the other side of the square, the one where the local lord''s son often stayed, and from there he took a left, arriving at the door of Greeves'' home almost instantly.


    It too was a three-story house, though it wasn''t whitewashed like the noble''s. Instead, it was left in its raw stone, with the wooden support beams that ran through the brickwork stained a dark brown by varnish.


    The shutters of the ground-floor windows were open as Beam approached, and though he couldn''t see anyone inside the rooms, he could hear loud shouting from deep inside the house.


    "DAMN IT! IF YOU CAN''T PAY, YOU SHOULDN''T HAVE TAKEN ON THE LOAN IN THE FIRST PLACE THEN, SHOULD YOU?" Came the loud shout, followed by the sound of flesh being struck. Beam gulped, recognizing the voice belonging to Greeves.


    "Just my luck¡­" he cursed to himself. It seemed the already foul-tempered merchant was in an even worse mood than normal. That did nothing to calm Beam down. His anxiety shot up, his hands began to sweat, his head felt light, and he battled the overwhelming urge to run away.


    He sought something to cling to as he rampaged through his mind, needing any reason that he could not to just turn away now. He recalled one of the first things that Dominus had told him upon starting his teaching. "Everything for a knight should be a lesson," he''d said, and Beam repeated that to himself.


    "Nghh!" For a few moments, the middle-aged many with blood streaming from his balding head, looking like he was moments away from death.


    But Greeves came out after him, chasing him away. "Go on now!" He shouted, kicking the man in the stomach again for good measure. "Don''t you be getting blood on my nice pavement, do you hear?"


    The man groaned again, before somehow managing to scramble to his feet, staggering away drunkenly, clutching his stomach.


    Only a few townspeople looked his way. They were used to Greeves'' antics. And, because he was still operating within the confines of thew, none of them moved to stop him. It seemed likely to Beam that they even were on Greeves'' side, thinking that the man he''d just beaten up probably deserved it, for trying to cheat money in some way or another.


    Greeves watched him go, his hands on his sides and the gold threads of his dressing cloak wide open, exposing his hairy chest and somewhat out-of-shape belly.


    "The fuck are you looking at?" He turned, sensing Beam''s gaze, before holding up a hand. "Naw, wait, let me guess, mm¡­" he put a hand on the thick stubble of his rounded chin, making a show of thought, but all the while, his eyes never left Beam and his thick ck eyebrows were left arching menacingly.


    "Ah!" He said, clicking a ringed finger together with his thumb, before pointing at Beam with a hairy hand. "You''re that little fuck that burned my house down in the woods, aren''t you? What''s your name again,d? Rock? Boulder? Something stupid like that, I remember."


    "Beam," Beam offered, his anxiousness forgotten, as he felt anger begin to rise in waves in his stomach.


    "You alright out here, boss?" Judas chose that moment toe to the door, checking that his employer hadn''t simply left him behind and gotten into a dangerous situation. He soon noticed Beam as well. "Ah! On your feet already,d? I could have sworn I''d put you out for at least a week. Sturdy little thing, ain''t ya?"


    "Shut up," Greeves said, motioning to Judas with a hand for quiet.


    Judas didn''t hear him. "What was that boss?" He asked, his twockeys appearing behind him.


    "I SAID: SHUT. THE FUCK. UP." Greeves shouted, before shing them a smile in an unhinged and unsettling sort of way, before motioning to Beam as though by way of an apology. "I''m trying to talk to a customer, you see? Why don''t you fine men just stand there and mm¡­ Keep your fucking mouths shut?"


    "Yes, boss," Judas said. It felt strange to Beam to see a man of his size act so timidly. He couldn''t even fit through the door frame that he was standing in front of without ducking his head, and he had mountains of muscle on top of that. It was a wonder he bowed to any man.


    "Now¡­ Where were we?" Greeves asked, threading his fingers together, making a show of exposing all his rings ¨C he had nearly one for every finger. Silver, gold and jewels.


    Looking at him now, as he swaggered about, Beam suddenly found him less intimidating. He wore wide white trousers and leather slippers on his feet as he strutted around in his golden threaded dressing gown. He looked, by Beam''s estimation, frankly ridiculous.


    "Ah yes," Greeves found his train of thought. "You burnt down my fucking house. You are here to pay, I presume?" He held out his meaty palm as though asking for coin.


    Beam shook his head. "My possessions burned with the house. I came to negotiate."


    "Negotiate?" Greeves spun the word around on his tongue. "Negotiate, is it?" He nodded again. "Negotiate? Me? With who? With some fucking digger boy, hmm? How long you been digging for, boy? Would have thought they''d have found a vein to mine by now, mm? So, digger boy, what is it? What are you offering me, hmm? You going to sell yourself into very? Sick of the pain? Or have youe for another beating off Judas."

 Chapter 30: A Meeting With The Devil - Part 6

    <h4>Chapter 30: A Meeting With The Devil - Part 6</h4>


    Judas tapped his wooden baton into his massive palm to ent his employer''s words.


    "Neither," Beam said firmly, pleased that he didn''t stutter his words, despite hating every moment of this situation. He had adrenaline coursing through his veins, as it had started to when he sparred with Dominus, when he''d decided that he really wanted to do something right.


    "Go on then," Greeves said impatiently. "I know you''re a stupid fucking digger boy, but when you say ''neither'' you''re meant to offer alternative conditions. Your cunt father not teach you that, boy?" Greeves asked, moving to p Beam on the cheek.


    Beam''s eyes red as he saw the blowe towards him. He grabbed the merchant by the fingers and twisted. "For a start, how about I let you keep your fingers, unbroken?" He threatened, holding them in a lock.


    "WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU THINK YOU''RE DOING?" Judas bellowed, sprinting from the front of the house in a panic.


    "Quiet you fool," Greeves said, waving him off, knowing that his fingers would get broken should anyone make a sudden move. Beam nearly smiled at that. He''d made a mistake in grabbing the hand ¨C he knew that ¨C but through his strategy lessons with Dominus, he was beginning to learn how to turn chaos and the unexpected into an advantage.


    Dominus watched on with interest, as the event unfolded. ''What the hell is that fool doing? Attacking the very man he''s meant to be grovelling to?''


    The fact that Greeves waved Judas off despite everything, that meant he was averse to personal pain, even though he was so keen on dealing it out.


    "Mm¡­ You know there will be¡­ consequences for this¡­ don''t you boy?" Greeves threatened through gritted teeth as more sweat ran off his tanned forehead and added more grease to his already shiny curly ck hair.


    "There will be," Beam agreed, his heart racing, as the adrenaline threatened to abandon him. He worked hard to keep the nervousness out of his voice, as his eyes darted around like a wild animal, looking for any sudden moves from Judas and his two thugs that stood behind him, batons brandished. "But there''s no reason it can''t work in both our favours, is there? Your house got burned down, and I owe you for it. I don''t have money for which to pay you, so here I am, trying to make an alternative agreement with you, to ensure you get what you''re owed."


    "Ohhh, you''re speaking business?" Greeves asked, looking like he was about to stand up, until Beam applied more pressure to his fingers and forced him back down again. He shed a false smile at that, trying to hide the pain he was in. "Then talk. We don''t need such barbarism."


    "Sorry," Beam told him, "but I don''t trust you. The second I let you go, you''ll have Judas and his boyse at me with everything they''ve got. So before I let you go, we''re going to have to solve this little dispute." Beam shed him a false smile of his own, attempting to wear a mask to hide his own raging emotions.


    The people in the square spared them nces as they passed and muttered. Some even pointed. It looked like a crowd might form at any second, which only added to Beams'' anxiousness. He had to get this dealt with, quick.


    "Speak honestly, merchant. That house you rented me was no more than a shack. I could probably rebuild something just as good in a week or two," Beam said hurriedly.


    "Hah!" Greevesughed, his eyes ring. Even with his fingers locked in, about to get broken, he didn''t seem particrly willing to get into a deal that didn''t favour him. "I don''t want the shoddy work of a digger boy! I need proper craftsmen to rebuild it, and they''ll cost coin, boy, that they will ¨C and the materials too, they cost¡ªah fuck, stop squeezing it you little shit!"


    "You have all the materials you need. There''s good lumber on thatnd. What about the craftsmen, how much for their work?" Beam asked.


    "You''ll be lucky to get it for a gold¡ªAh, fuck! Fine! Stop squeezing! Stop squeezing! Five silvers boy, there you go! That''s what you owe me! For both the house and the inconvenience you''ve caused me!" Greeves howled, arching his back to deal with pain.


    "Five silvers?" Beam muttered. It was an insane amount of money for him. With 10 coppers being equal to one silver, it would take him five months of digging work to afford that price, and that was if he didn''t spend a single penny in the meantime. But it was at least within the realm of reason. "I see¡­ So you''re using the opportunity to build something better there?"


    Greeves smiled painfully at being caught out. "Hah! Obviously! That was the n from the start! Do you think I''d just leave that shitty little shed that you were happy to live in? That''s a prime location! I''m losing gold not putting anything on there."


    "So this benefits you," Beam said. "You''re going to profit off this. I assume you''re happy, then?"


    "Yes! Happy! Very happy!" Greeves shouted through gritted teeth, tapping his feet like he was desperate to go to the toilet as he sought to escape the pain in his fingers.


    "Good, now you''re going to make it benefit me," Beam said with a carnivorous smile. He copied the same smile his master had shed him the day before, knowing just how unnerving it could be. "You''re the one who burnt down that house, aren''t you?"


    Greeves froze, going silent. Judas froze as well, his eyes widening. "From that reaction, I''d suppose it was Judas that did the burning on your orders?" Beam guessed. He hadn''t been certain, of course, but their reactions confirmed it.


    There was a flicker in Greeves'' eyes and he stopped moving, as though his finger no longer concerned him. A true smile twisted his thick lips and his eyes lit up. "¡­Clever boy. Very clever," he murmured. "What''s a clever boy like you doing being a digger, mm? Well, no matter. No matter. Mm. I''ve been caught, it seems, I''ve been caught. What''re you going to do now, threaten me? Break my hand and tell on me to thew? No one will believe you."

 Chapter 31: A Meeting With The Devil - Part 7

    <h4>Chapter 31: A Meeting With The Devil - Part 7</h4>


    Beam shook his head. "No," he said. "I don''t particrly have any interest in the games that you y. I''ll help you raise those five silvers, despite your actions, but in return, I want you to help me raise five silver of my own."


    Even Dominus tilted his head in interest, as he thought he might be beginning to understand the boy''s true self. "Is it just an unbelievable bnce that the boy has? To truly be like water. To take whenever there is an opportunity and to merely struggle when there is not one. Is the natural development of someone who has nothing? Or is there something more to him? At the very least, he''s better than those castle apprentices the nobility sent my way¡­ Perhaps this month spent training him will truly be worthwhile."


    "Oh? And how exactly are you nning to do that? I''m a merchant - not a fucking magician," Greeves said, spitting with disgust.


    "I thought we were past these games, mister Greeves," Beam said, doing his best to appear menacing. "You''re not a mere merchant, are you? You deal more in dark deeds than you do in coin¡­ Well, I want no involvement in your criminality. I want as respectable a task as you can give me, one that''ll fill both our pockets."


    "Tsch," Greeves tutted. "There''s no such thing. No way to get money quickly without dealing in more mm¡­ unsavoury things¡­. But now that you mention it¡­ Hmm¡­ Yes. Yes. I might have a use for you, now that you mention it," he nodded now, seeming pleased.


    "What is it? Spit it out." Beam said. "Also, if possible, you''d only require a few hours of my time a day. I''m busy training."


    "Training?" Greeves scrunched up his face as if he didn''t know what that word meant. "What''re you training for? You n to be a merchant, boy?"


    "No," Beam said, a little too quickly. "Just training."


    "Mm¡­" Greeves looked mistrustful, but he didn''t push the issue. "So let me get this straight, you want a job where you only need to work a few hours a day, one that''ll get you ridiculous money quickly, and you want all that from me, the man whose hand you''re threatening to break?"


    "That''s right," Beam nodded in the affirmative.


    "And people like to say I''m mad," he muttered. "Fine, fine. Yeah, mm. I do have a few jobs for ya. Stuff that''s ''respectable'' as you put it, you condescending little fuck. But, well, y''know, I can''t say I hate you, boy. Can''t say I do. Rare to see anyone with a flicker of intelligence to them and I do get bored dealing with rocks like Judas all day. And you can fight a little too ¨C not bad for a little scrap. I''ll tell you though, you''re not gonna like the job."


    "What is it?" Beam asked, on guard.


    "Well¡­ Ah, fuck. I suppose there''s no harm telling ya, since we''re already partners in crime, ain''t we?"


    "We''re not," Beam said firmly.


    Greeves chuckled. "Heh. Be like that. But we are. You''ve got details of a crime, you reckon that Imitted, ''n by this deal here, you''re swearing not to tell, aren''t ya?"


    "I suppose," Beam said reluctantly.


    "See, we''re already the best of pals then," Greeves said, "now I''m going to reach into my pocket yeahd, nice and easy. See? I''m not making any sudden moves, no need to break my fingers¡­" He said, whilst reaching into the inner pocket of his dressing gown and producing a rolled-up scroll from its pocket with a broken blue wax seal on it.


    "What''s that?" Beam asked suspiciously.


    "This here, is a letter from our good noble friend Ferdinand, the local lord''s son, y''know? I''d give it to you to read, but I don''t suppose you know how.. hmm?"


    "I can read a little," Beam said, not being entirely dishonest. He knew his letters at the very least, and he could write his name and read some of the signs at the market stalls. But it would be a stretch to say that he was fully literate.


    "Oho¡­ This digger boy is just full of surprises, ain''t he, Judas?" Greeves said. The massive man nodded in reply. He even looked impressed.


    "Well, I''ll let you give it a little read, just so you know I''m not lying through my teeth." Greeves held it out to Beam between two of his fingers, shaking it to indicate that Beam should take it.


    Beam took it, and pretended to read as he listened to Greeves'' exnation. "See that boy? That there is a pain in the arse. Bloody nobles, eh? Well, don''t suppose you''ve ever interacted with one, but let me tell you well in advance: they are fuckin'' scum. You probably think I''m a crook, don''t ya? Naw, they''re the real criminals. That boy there, he reckons that just ''cos he''s the lord''s son and all, and ''cos he''s been put in charge of this vige, he reckons he can give me little tasks like that to do, as though I''m his dog or something."


    Beam looked at it. He noticed the words ''furs'' and ''spears'' but he didn''t understand the rest of it, and he worked hard to maintain his bluff, though with every second that passed, he was growing more exhausted. He was so unused to dealing with social situations in general, that they''d often leave him exhausted. But this was another level. This was a level of concentration that he''d only recently known he could exert, and that was thanks to his games of Battle with his master.


    He knew that the longer thissted, the more likely he would be to make a mistake, especially since they still hadn''t lost the attention of the crowd. Still, he couldn''t show any signs of being impatient, for that would only increase his risk of blundering.


    "He gives you tasks like this all the time?" Beam said neutrally, not giving away that he had no idea what the task was.


    Greeves seized on that. "That the little fuck does! I gave him tribute three years ago, dering myself his loyal servant and all the other rubbish ¨C just what was expected of me. And the snotty brat took me seriously. He gave me a noble''s seal to assist my business endeavours ¨C that was nice ¨C but alongside it he''s been calling in favour after favour. See to it that all the vigers have enough firewood for the winter ¨C that was one. Like, how the fuck''s that my problem? Another was dealing with a hoard of Goblins on the road ¨C yeah, like I want to spend the coin on dealing with that¡­ And then thistest one."

 Chapter 32: A Meeting With The Devil - Part 8

    <h4>Chapter 32: A Meeting With The Devil - Part 8</h4>


    "Mm," Beam nodded, still not giving away that he had no idea what thetest one was.


    "Anyway, I''ve dealt with a couple just ''cos I had to, but the fucker keeps sending more. Now I''ve got a list up to my eyeballs, a list of shit he wants me to spend money on, with no profit in it for me. Getting rid of low-tier monsters, getting firewood for the winter, deal withints from old people, loads of fucking shite.."


    "Goblins?" Beam murmured.


    "That''s right, Goblins," Greeves said. "What, you''re not scared, are you? This is the sort of thing a party of men from the vige could easily deal with, it''s just the coin. There''d be no profit in it for me, paying them. Be nearly a silver all told for the risk and I wouldn''t be seeing any of the loot either, aplete waste of money.


    "So what exactly are you proposing? You want me to work through this list for you?" Beam asked. "Just how much is on there?"


    "Enough, more than enough. I haven''t been keeping an exact count, since that bastard noble has been torturing me so much, I''ve just been tossing the letters, but damn, is it enough. Enough to keep you busy for a few weeks. If you sort that out, then the meagrepensation he gives me should cover these little requests of yours ¨C but only if you get it all done," Greeves told him.


    "So delivering firewood, taking care of low-tier monsters¡­ mm. I should be able to handle it if it''s all like that. But in return, you''ll write off this debt that you''ve made for me and you''ll give me five silvers for my troubles?" Beam asked.


    "That''s what I said, didn''t I?" Greeves replied irritably. "Now, are you going to let go of my hand so we can conclude this business?


    Beam looked between his own hand and the fingers he had embroiled within it back to Greeves'' face. He sighed. He was well and truly exhausted now. He wanted nothing more than to agree with the merchant''s suggestion and then head straight back home again. But he knew that would be premature. "I don''t trust you," Beam said pointedly. "I have no assurance that you won''t immediately set your dogs on me the second I let you go."


    "Tsch," Greeves tutted. "You don''t trust me?" He repeated with a nod. "Good. Good. But you''re under the illusion of control there ¨C you think you''re in charge here? You think I''m a stranger to a little pain?"


    Greeves pulled on his hand suddenly, running far more force through it than he had before, in a serious attempt at escape. "Wait, but if you do that, you''ll break your¡ª" Beam started to shout in panic. But the hand was already free.


    "See?" Greeves said with a superior smile, holding his hand. "That shit hurts ¨C but even a merchant like me can handle a little pain, mm? That''s what you call an educated bet, boy. I knew you wouldn''t break my fingers. The repercussions are something you just can''t deal with¡­ not only that, you don''t like hurting people, do you?"


    Beam bit his lip in a panic, ncing rapidly between Greeves and his three bodyguards. Judas took a step forward, a smug smile on his face, tapping his baton against his hand.


    "So you see," Greeves continued, "the only reason this discussionsted as long as it did, is because I wanted it to, you see, mm? I could have set my dogs on you at any moment."


    "Then why didn''t you?" Beam asked cautiously, tensing his legs, ready to spring at the slightest sign of sudden danger. He wasn''t allowed to get into a proper fight, as per his master Dominus'' orders. That meant, if things went awry, his only choice was to run.


    Greeves shrugged. "Because I had an interest in this, boy. Who dares stand against me? In this vige, I am an almighty God. Everything of importance goes through me ¨C even the noble Ferdinand begs ME for assistance."


    "Then, what? You were serious about what we discussed?" Beam checked, seeing that Judas and his cronies hade to a halt by the side of their master, only a few strides away from where Beam stood.


    "I was," Greeves nodded, taking a handkerchief out of his inner pocket and wiping the sweat on his forehead away with it. "You have a few attributes that I like. A little bit of initiative. A little bit of athleticism. Mm¡­ And you can read too. Yes¡­ I''d have uses for you outside this Ferdinand problem, I would. But you wouldn''t like that, would you, hmm? Somehow you''re still clinging to honour, in this dark world that we live in? Well, I don''t mind that either¡­"


    Beam frowned. He didn''t know exactly why, but Greeves was talking as though he was still interested in the deal. "I don''t know what you''re getting at, but if you prove yourself to be trustworthy in this Ferdinand business, then I will at least consider any future propositions.


    Greeves'' grin broadened, and he shed a smile full of white teeth. "Well, you''re right to be on guard, given that little stunt I pulled with your house. But I wouldn''t have made it as a merchant if my word was not golden, would I? Besides, it''s the nature of the weak to be devoured by the strong. By foiling my little plot, you''ve proved yourself to be at least stronger than I thought you were, so for now, until you screw it up, you have at least a smidgeon of respect.


    Beam nodded. The merchant was talking too much for his liking. With each passing moment, he grew more and more ufortable in that square. He wanted to secure some progress and leave as soon as he could.

 Chapter 33: A Meeting With The Devil - Part 9

    <h4>Chapter 33: A Meeting With The Devil - Part 9</h4>


    "Ah, are you in a hurry?" Greeves asked, noticing his eagerness to depart. "Then I''ll let you go, for I don''t exactly have the information we need to conclude this deal of ours. I''ll gather up all the tasks that bastard Ferdinand has sent me and I''ll make a list of what needs doing. And, as agreed, once they are allplete, the debt between you and I will be settled and you will have 5 silver coins for your trouble. We''ll meet here again tomorrow, mm?"


    Beam narrowed his eyes. Since he could see the end of the discussion, he dared to summon thest of his energy for onest remark. He pointed at the merchant. "I''m trusting you in this, merchant," he told him. "Make this worthwhile for both of us."


    Greeves smiled, knowing that it was merely the bravado of a boy out of his depth, but the merchant liked the attempt anyway. "Yes, yes," he motioned with his hand, "go on now, go about your business before we get bored of each other."


    Beam didn''t need to be told twice. At those words, he turned on his heel and left. Only when he was at the other side of the square did he dare to look back. Greeves was still standing there, staring at him menacingly, with his bodyguards by his side. Beam shuddered.


    "I really can''t trust him," he muttered to himself.


    But his exhaustion had already built up to the point where he couldn''t be bothered to take that idea further, he didn''t want to start imagining the numerous things that might go wrong, as was ordinarily his way, for he simply didn''t have the energy.


    As he left the marketce, feeling fully drained in mind and spirit, he caught sight of the bakery and sighed. "Well, I guess there''s only one more task to do ¨C get master''s bread ¨C and then we''re done with this for the day."


    That cheered him up slightly. The prospect of discussing the day''s events with his master cheered him up even more. Surely Dominus would be able to share his wisdom and offer some suggestions on how Beam might ensure that the situation with Greeves continued along a peaceful and productive trajectory that would benefit them both.


    "Wait¡­ I''m going to get 5 silver for this¡­" Beam realized. In the heat of the moment, he''d forgotten half of what he said. But he certainly recalled that line. A line delivered by instinct, one to ensure that he was at least rewarded in some way for all the trouble that Greeves had caused him. "5 whole silver?" He repeated the number to himself, just in an attempt to believe it. Just having that as a hope made his whole body go numb. That was a ridiculous amount of money for someone like him. Nearly half a year''s work ¨C providing he didn''t spend a single penny and saved for that half a year ¨C and he would be presumably earning it over the course of a few weeks.


    "That''s providing he isn''t lying through his teeth," Beam reminded himself.


    Feeling a little re-energized by that hope, he stepped inside the bakery and caught sight of the olddy behind the counter again.


    "Good afternoon," she said, with what looked like a strained smile.


    "Good afternoon," Beam said back, a little awkwardly. He was still tense from his meeting with Greeves.


    "Yes please," Beam said, pulling out the copper quarter that his master had given him and offering it up.


    The olddy grabbed the te with the hard round bread on and offered it to him. "All I''m saying is that you shouldn''t be picking fights with people so much bigger than you, anyway. You''re going to get seriously hurt one of these days."


    With her motherly instinct kicking in, the old woman didn''t seem inclined to let the issue rest, as she went out of her way to look after a boy that just the day prior she''d hardly been able to consider as human, with hisck of willingness to interact with anybody.


    "I know," Beam said, taking up the bread, offering another awkward grin. He wasn''t used to anyone worrying about him and didn''t know quite what to say when showered in such concern. "I''ll try to be more careful."


    The old woman nodded, seemingly satisfied. "Good," she said. "I''ll hope you do that ¨C be more careful."


    Beam nodded again with a forced smile and left the shop, sighing with relief once he was back on the road. The afternoon sun was zing overhead, lighting the path to home. He looked up at that sun in the blue sky and dared to feel a little bit aplished. After all, he''d made the first step in solving the kind of problem that he absolutely hated to deal with. Not only that, he seemed to be building up a somewhat friendly rtionship with at least one person in the vige, and that was a good start for his master''s test.


    Not only that, but the records he''d already set in his training that day came flooding back to him, reminding him that there were other areas that he''d shown potential in too. Bit by bit, things slowly seemed to be improving. And they were improving quicker than they ever had before ¨C all thanks to a chance encounter with an old man in the woods. Beam couldn''t help but feel a little bit lucky as he realized that, wondering if the Gods might have been watching over him after all.


    With such thoughts on his mind, he once again entered the treeline into the forest, and with no one else around, his master called out to him.


    "Looking a little worse for wear there, boy," Dominus said, noting the exhaustion about his eyes and face.


    Beam shrugged with a smile. "I guess so. I hate dealing with things like that. I''d rather spend the day running or lifting rocks."

 Chapter 34: A Meeting With The Devil - Part 10

    <h4>Chapter 34: A Meeting With The Devil - Part 10</h4>


    "Well, you''re going to have to get used to it. There are people in this world far more difficult to deal with than Greeves. Namely, nobility. If you want to aplish any kind of military feat, you''re going to have to go through the nobles. That''s where all the power and money lies, and, more importantly, only they have the king''s permission to raise an army." Dominus said.


    "And I''m going to need an army to fight the Pandora Goblin, right?" Beam asked.


    "Well, that''s undoubtedly true, but before you dare to challenge the Pandora Goblin, you''re going to need a wealth of expeditions under your belt, and unless you n to go on each one alone, you''re going to be in trouble. Any gatherings of armed men above 10 generally need a noble''s permission to happen," Dominus told him.


    Beam smiled. It made him feel good to hear a warrior of Dominus'' calibre talking as though Beam defeating the Pandora Goblin was a real possibility. But that didn''t stop him fromtching on to something strange about Dominus'' statement. "Just 10 men? What about when hunters are going on expeditions after a big game or something? Or what if there''s an invasion of some low-tier monsters and the vigerse together to defend against it? They''d get in trouble for that?"


    Dominus shrugged. "Potentially. It depends on the noble, and it depends on whosend they''ve raised such an army on. With all the recent uprisings in the past century, some nobles are pretty insecure about it and enforce thatw as harshly as they can. Gatherings of more than 10 armed men, regardless of intention, will result in them being treated like an invading force and immediately executed. Others don''t really care, like Lord ckwell who rules over Ernest province that we''re standing in, I doubt he''d care even if 500 peasants armed themselves, unless they dered war against him or something."


    "Aren''t you a noble as well, master?" Beam asked.


    "Barely," Dominus responded with a wave of his hand, apparently displeased by the change of question. "My great grandfather got knighted and was given a tiny bit ofnd to the east, by the Salt Sea, and the inheritance of thatnd and title barely qualifies me as nobility. I''m right at the bottom of the pack, though."


    "So all nobles arendowners?" Beam asked.


    "To a degree, mostly, yes. Ites with the title. But not allndowners are nobles." Dominus said, educating him. "Enough of that though, you''ll have time to learn about nobility when you''re forced to interact with them more. For now, let''s discuss that little stunt you pulled in the market square."


    Beam groaned. From the way Dominus said it, he was displeased. Just thinking about it now ¨C mere hourster ¨C was enough to make Beam go red. In the heat of the moment, he''d done things and said things he never would have dreamed of, merely reacting to the peculiar situation that he found himself in. "Did I mess it up?"


    "Well, yes," Dominus said, smacking him on the head. "It was thoroughly embarrassing to watch. I don''t know what you were thinking holding his hand in a lock for as long as you did ¨C or even putting it in a lock in the first ce ¨C and from the looks of the vigers, neither did they."


    "Mhm¡­" Beam had to agree with that, he didn''t really know what he was thinking either. He just sort of did it, thinking in the moment that it was the right move.


    "However¡­ For you, I''d say that was probably a job well done," Dominus said, more quietly than before as they walked deeper into the mountains.


    Beam perked up at that. "Really?"


    And again, Dominus chopped his head. "Fool. Only because I have such a low opinion of your social skills does that barely qualify as an eptable result. To be honest, I expected you tond yourself in more hot water than you did."


    "I managed to secure 5 silvers for myself too," Beam said, grinning.


    "Mhm, that just barely qualifies as eptable, but for the amount of work that''sing your way, you could have asked for much more and he''d have given it, for he''d still be profiting," Dominus told him.


    "Really!? More than 5 silver?" Beam asked.


    "Maybe 1 or 2 gold at least. I imagine thepensation he''s getting from Ferdinand for all those tasks well exceeds 5 gold, and he''s going to be getting that with no effort on his part. It''s just free money, from his point of view," Dominus told him.


    "I knew I couldn''t trust him¡­" Beam muttered, irritated. It seemed he''d been yed twice by the merchant.


    "Well, you only have yourself to me there," Dominus said. "Better get that attitude sorted now. If you want to aim for the very pinnacle of martial achievement, you should do so with the belief that every misfortune thates your way would be solvable if not for your own ipetence."


    "Even getting struck by lightning?" Beam asked.


    "But of course. Even events of dumb chance to the average man, such as being struck from your blindspot by a runaway horse, or getting hit by lightning ¨C to someone well versed in martial skill they are all avoidable. In taking responsibility for everything that happens to you, even if it be by chance or by dumb luck, you take your first steps along the path to great power," Dominus said.


    "¡­You really think I can go that far?" Beam asked, fighting to keep the desperation out of his voice.


    Dominus answered immediately. "No. As you stand, absolutely not. It would be ridiculous to think that you could. Honestly, every instinct in my body is screaming out that you''re going to fail and that I''m wasting my time with you."


    Beam tutted and frowned.


    "Focus on getting it through this test first, boy," Dominus told him, moving ahead of him along the path. "For now, everything beyond that is merely hypothetical.

 Chapter 35: Battle With The Goblins - Part 1

    <h4>Chapter 35: Battle With The Goblins - Part 1</h4>


    Chapter 5 ¨C Battle With The Goblins


    On the morning of the next day, just as he had done the day before, Beam awoke excited, pleased to be away from his dreams ¨C they''d been particrly troubling that night ¨C and he eyed the lifting stones hoping to set another record for himself and grow even stronger than yesterday.


    Dominus watched the boy eagerly zipping around like a dog that needed walking and he gave a wry smile, shifting the embers ofst night''s fire, revealing the red. With a few dry sticks and his kettle on top, the fire was soon roaring once more, and he filled his wooden cup with steaming tea.


    "Calm down a little, boy, you''re draining all my energy," Dominus told him, grunting. His body felt the worst first thing in the morning, as the Pandora Goblin poison pounded through his veins and his ckened muscles ached. He gripped his right shoulder where the ckness began and attempted to massage it, getting the worst of the pain out.


    "I shouldn''t drink anything yet, should I?" Beam asked, almost anxiously. Dominus could see the hunger in his pupil''s eyes, a hunger for more progress, more rewards and greater achievements.


    Last night, he''d finally got the rules of Battle down well enough that he''d been able to attempt to fight Dominus on equal terms. And, for the first time, they yed a match that was closer to what the name of the game hoped to inspire ¨C they''d had a battle.


    Of course, Dominus had still crushed him easily, but it was a step in the right direction, and the boy was progressing.


    "Should we y Battle before I go into town too?" Beam asked excitedly, seeming to want to beat Dominus as soon as he could and pass one of the month''s tests that he''d given him.


    "I''m beginning to reconsider taking you on as an apprentice," Dominus said, putting on his most serious expression as he sipped at his tea. "If my morning''s quiet is going to be getting disturbed so thoroughly, it seems I''m losing far more than I''m gaining."


    "Ah." Beam looked at him with the expression of a wounded puppy and finally stopped fidgeting, choosing to sit down by the fire instead, putting on his very best disy of calm.


    "Heh," Dominus could hardly hold back augh looking at him. "I understand you''re eager to progress, but try to contain yourself,d. Your fantasies will run away with you, and you''ll end up living more in your head, in the imagined future, and that will be the source of many a mistake."


    "I understand¡­" Beam said meekly.


    Dominus shook his head. The boy definitely did not understand. Not yet. But in time, he would.


    "Besides, don''t be getting so excited at the prospect of beating me in Battle. I know I set it as one of your tests, but it''s still not going to be much of an achievement. Strategy is not an area that I was well educated in. Mostmanding officers would not struggle to beat me on the board," Dominus told him.


    "Really?" Beam asked in surprise, before his expression suddenly shifted to one that was rather downtrodden. "Does¡­ Does that mean I''m really bad at strategy then?"


    This time, Dominus didugh, seeing such a despondent expression on his face. "Haha. Well, maybe. Still, it''s a fairly rare skill to have. Only military families would teach it. So I suppose in beating me, you''d still be the best in the vige, even if you won''t be very highly ranked in the world."


    He brightened slightly at that again, grinning and leaping to his feet. "That''s all I need then, isn''t it? At least to start off with. As you keep saying, it''ll definitely be a good start. Should I get onto the stones then, and set another record?"


    Dominus groaned as he sat with a back against the tree enjoying his tea. "Two minutes ¨C that''s your limit, is it? Fine. I suppose. If you''re not going to sit still, may as well let you burn your energy off. Go on then."


    "I wonder if I''ll set a new record again today?" Beam asked excitedly.


    "Ah. About that. I wouldn''t expect so. If you do manage it, after so many days of progress, then that''ll be a pretty big abnormality. Well, all I''m saying is don''t get too disappointed if you aren''t where you were at yesterday," Dominus warned him.


    "Heh heh," Beam chuckled, full of the confidence of youth, sated on minor achievements. "Then I''ll just put more effort in than yesterday. Yesterday was eassyyy after all. If I focus a bit more and lift with everything I''ve got then I''m sure I''ll get something special."


    Dominus merely shrugged and made himself another cup of steaming pine needle tea as he watched Beam do his warm-ups. The boy was getting familiar with the movement now. His technique was more efficient, and he was using a higher percentage of his muscles than he was before. Dominus stroked his chin in thought as he watched him work.


    ''Mm¡­ I wonder if it''s time to change the exercise for him?'' He wondered. ''Stone lifts are a good exercise for building overall strength, but it might be wise to expose him to something new¡­?"

 Chapter 36: Battle With The Goblins - Part 2

    <h4>Chapter 36: Battle With The Goblins - Part 2</h4>


    Beam was soon through his warm-ups and he rolled the second stone, looking over his shoulder to make sure his master was watching. Dominus nodded towards him, and Beam began.


    ''Well, for this month at least, I suppose stone lifts are fine,'' he decided. ''It''s barely been a week since he''s begun, after all.''


    Beam powered through the second stone, looking only slightly more sluggish than he was yesterday. The 16th lift went up fine, but then on the 17th, it was as though he''d misgrooved it somehow, for it looked far harder than the one before and then by the 18th, he could lift it no more, failing halfway through the lift.


    "W-why!?" Beam asked in frustration, going up to the stone again for another try, in an attempt to make up for his failure.


    "That''ll do," Dominus told him from his position by the fire. "Go onto the third stone and give it a go. You''ve still got running to do after."


    Beam bit his lip and clenched his fist, ring at the second stone unhappily, but he did as he was told and went onto the third. From the look of exhaustion on the boy''s face, Dominus could already guess what the results were going to be.


    And sure enough, as soon as Beam picked it up, the first lift was extremely slow. It was like he was a different person from yesterday. Then the second and third after were even slower. After the third, he was unable to lift a fourth, despite his best efforts. He pulled on it in frustration, seeming angry enough to break his spine in an attempt to get the results he wanted.


    "Leave it there," Dominus told him, finishing his tea as he walked over. "As I said, you can''t always improve every day."


    "But why!?" Beam asked in frustration, nearly shouting. "Yesterday I could do 20 lifts on the second stone with ease as well as 10 on the third one. How can I get so much weaker in just a day? It doesn''t make sense."


    Dominus sighed in exasperation. "Nah," he said, shaking his head, "it''s your progress up until now that hasn''t really made sense. It''s a rarity that you can improve so many days in a row, especially with the size of your improvements. That''s what doesn''t make sense."


    "But why would it stop all of a sudden?" Beam asked, looking like he was ready to cry, his frustration welling up. "It really doesn''t make sense. How can I have that much momentum and not only does it slow, but I suddenly get weaker? Isn''t that weird?"


    "Beam," Dominus said sternly. Beam flinched and looked at him. "Even by conventional training methods ¨C what they teach the young squires as they''reing up ¨C it''s logical to assume that the day after a big lift your performance will be worse. Why? Because you''re exhausted. That''s the logical conclusion."


    "But even after getting beat up, I set such massive new records. That doesn''t make sense, does it?" Beam pointed out.


    "You''re right, that doesn''t make sense. That''s why I speak of progress like a river. It is not merely the result of logic. It is not merely the summation of rest and effort. It''s aw all by itself. And believe me, whilst I understand your frustration ¨C getting worse after putting so much effort in ¨C I expect better," Dominus told him sharply.


    "I understand¡­" Beam started to say.


    "No. You don''t," Dominus cut him off gruffly. You''ve hardly been training any time at all. If such a small step back after such a small amount of dedication ¨C if that''s enough to get you this upset, then your heart isn''t ready for the cruel reality of progress."


    Beam gulped.


    "Your impatience, whilst a quality that is necessary for ambition, it will wound you and it will hinder you if you do not get a grasp on it. The longer you go at this game, the more it''s going to take each time to improve. As I''ve said before, there can be periods of several years where you know you''re performing at a worse level than you have in the past, despite all your training. Such is merely the cruelty of the Goddess of progress. Harden your heart boy, bring your mind back to the present."


    Beam breathed in deeply and nodded. In his head, his fantasies these past few days had run away with him, as he imagined just how quickly he could improve if he kept going at this same rate. This first minor obstacle had hit him hard, killing almost all those ns.


    "You calmed down now? Good. Take today for what it is. Just as your speed got worse for a time, your strength today got worse. Acknowledge it for what it is ¨C the foundation for greater and even more impressive progress,"


    "I''ll do my best," Beam told him, before rubbing his head and apologizing embarrassedly. "Sorry¡­ I might have gotten ahead of myself a bit. I guess I was being greedy."


    "Greed is necessary for ambition ¨C you were merely being impatient," Dominus told him. "Come now, let''s see what state your running is in."


    What Dominus didn''t add is that progress, as far as Beam was concerned, shouldn''t exist. With the curse of Ingolsol so powerfully attached to him, he shouldn''t be able to progress at. He should never have been able to cross the Second Boundary, but now that he was there, things were even stranger.

 Chapter 37: Battle With The Goblins - Part 3

    <h4>Chapter 37: Battle With The Goblins - Part 3</h4>


    Dominus carefully watched him, trying to find out the exact reason why progress was possible for him, despite his precarious position. Of course, he knew that udia''s blessing was helping to bnce things ¨C but the strain on Beam''s soul should have been immense. But no matter how hard Dominus looked, he could not decipher it yet.


    ¡­


    ¡­


    That day, for running, Dominus took Beam back to the ravine from a few days prior, though a slightly different part of it, so that the boy would have to again puzzle his way through how to get down and how to get up again.


    "Ready? Go on then. I expect you''ll be able to do it twice without trouble now," Dominus had told him.


    And sure enough, as soon as Beam scrambled down the first of the slopes, he felt a spring in his step that he had not felt a few days prior. Not only that, but he''d already figured out how to navigate steep slopes such as that, so when he returned to it, feeling as re-energized as he did, a new speed enveloped him and he scrambled down towards the river and over it like a mountain goat. He did it with such ease that it surprised even himself.


    "I''ve definitely got faster," he''d told Dominus after they''d finished, and Dominus had begrudgingly agreed, though he reminded him that it was rather hard to measure conclusively, using just their eyes.


    "Mm, I had bettere up with a way of measuring it soon," Dominus had said, "I still haven''t given you your test of speed yet for the end of the month."


    And whilst that was true, Beam didn''t feel too worried about it as he walked into town once more. "This is the fastest I''ve been," he reminded himself. Although the difference was very slight, he was sure it was there.


    Just when his strength had declined slightly, his speed had shot up. Beam didn''t mind that so much now, as he reflected on it. If each day he could at least improve in one thing, then he''d be satisfied.


    And now it was on to Greeves again though. On a day where the sky was cloudy and threatened to rain, it mirrored the apprehension Beam felt in meeting the merchant once more, especially given what Dominus had told him, that Greeves had lied to him once again about thepensation he was receiving from Ferdinand.


    Once Beam reached the market square, it really did begin to rain. Fat droplets of water fell, coating the dusty earth that had grown dry from the summer heat. Beam wrinkled his nose and looked at the sky as he felt the first of the cool dropletsnd on his head.


    "Mm¡­ I guess winter is really on its way, huh?" He murmured to himself as he crossed the square with more than a bit of apprehension.


    From the new coolness in the air, the biting breeze and the autumn showers, summer was well and truly over and autumn was underway. Beam supposed it would only be a few weeks longer that he''d be able to walk the streets in nothing but a shirt like this without getting cold. He frowned at that ¨C he didn''t have the money to buy any new clothes for the winter, and all his old ones had burned down in his house.


    That was, unless Greeves yed his part. Beam made it to outside the merchant''s house, with its dark stone walls and dark varnished wood. The wooden shutters were all closed tightly that day, which made it even more uninviting than it previously was.


    Beam didn''t have to wait longer than a few moments for the door to be opened in an aggressive swing, and there was Judas, towering over him, looking down on him from an even higher height than usual as he stood on the doorstep.


    "He''s waiting in the back," Judas told him, motioning with his head for him toe inside.


    Beam eyed him suspiciously. Inside was Greeves'' territory. If given half the chance, he wouldn''t put it past the merchant to spring a trap.


    "I have things to do, make hime to the front," Beam said, looking rather unconvincing as he stood there in the rain, his clothes getting more and more soaked with each passing second.


    Judas scrunched up his face at that. "Look kid¡­ It''s not my business what happens to you, but here''s a little friendly bit of advice: don''t piss the Boss off without reason. You''re better offing inside and doing as you''re told. Why get him annoyed before this has even started?"


    "Just bring him out to the front," Beam said sharply. "It was him that dragged me into this, did you forget? He burned down the house. I''m not going to be any more polite to him than I have to be. Bring him out."


    "Tsch," Judas shook his bald head, tossing the long scraps of hair that still clung to its sides about. "I guess some people just get it, huh? It''s all well and good having pride and that, not wanting to be pushed around. But pride doesn''t do you a lot of good if you end up dead, you get me? And if the Boss gives the order, I won''t think twice about doing it. He''s lining my pockets nicely enough for me to do just about anything."


    "I''ll keep that in mind," Beam said, motioning with his hand for Judas to hurry up. He was getting cold standing in the rain.


    "Right, right," the giant said, walking back into the house, the floorboards creaking under his massive weight.


    From where Beam stood, waiting in the rain, he could just barely see past the crack in the slightly closed door. He noted how oddly dark the inside of that house was and shivered. There was a strange aura about it, one that he didn''t want anything to do with. Despite the cold, he was d of his decision to remain outside.


    After a few moments, he heard shouts from inside the house and he guessed it was Greeves causing a ruckus at Beam refusing his request toe inside. But the shouting soon quietened down and was reced by the stomping of footsteps as he heard the merchanting to do the door.

 Chapter 38: Battle With The Goblins - Part 4

    <h4>Chapter 38: Battle With The Goblins - Part 4</h4>


    "There he is!" Greeves said loudly as he swung the door open and let it crash into the wall.


    Beam noted that he was far more appropriately dressed today. He clenched a long pipe between his teeth that smoked away as he stood there, releasing the familiar aroma of purple mountain grass.


    Instead of a wide-open dressing gown, the merchant wore a green tunic and a wide belt and a fur cloak over the top of it all. With his boots a sturdy leather and his dark trousers a reliable linen, he looked well dressed enough to brave the forest.


    Beam nodded to him in greeting. "I''vee as promised. Have you finished reviewing the tasks that Ferdinand needspleting?"


    "Yeah, yeah, I''m in a rush as well, so you can spare me the impatient look. And, by the way, you''ve only got yourself to me for standing in the rain like that. Don''t think I''m going to make the offer to let youe inside again, yeah?" Greeves said, wrinkling his nose as he noticed that the rain was only increasing. It seemed like a veritable thunderstorm.


    He unrolled the scrap of paper that he''d been holding in his hand and began to read. "Alright, like I said, this is the list. Golbin ying ¨C three requests, lots of the fuckers, various locations. One corpse soldier needs ying too. There''s a giant spider problem up in the mountains as well, there''s a request to deal with that. There''s a request for scouting as well. There''s the firewood request too ¨C gonna have to go door to door and see if anyone needs help preparing firewood for the winter. There''s a winter food prep request as well ¨C honestly, I don''t know who that fucker Ferdinand thinks I am. I''m a merchant, not a priest. Dunno why I''m expected to deal in charity¡­ Anyway, There''s another request to get rid of the worst of the ditches in the roads before the mud gets too bad, and another to help the local smith get hold of some iron, since there hasn''t been much passing through the markettely. There you go, a handsome amount, eh?"


    "That''s 10 separate requests then?" Beam mused.


    "Oh? That was a quick bit of counting," Greeves said with a raised eyebrow. "Seems like no one can count around here, ''cept us merchants. I wonder why that is, mm?"


    Both Greeves and Beam knew very well why it was. For peasants, mathematics and literacy were far less important to their livelihoods than farming and the like. Most of them only needed the very bare minimum knowledge of each to get by. Most, like Judas, could get by without even knowing a single letter.


    "So, we''re sticking to yesterday''s agreement, yes?" Beam asked, ignoring hisment. "I get 5 silver upon thepletion of all those quests, and you get the investment money you need for the house that you burned down."


    Greeves nodded. "Yeah, that''ll do fine by me. Surprised you didn''t say anything about the quests, though. You''re not worried at all? A single Goblin is enough for one man to handle, but the fuckers roam in packs. Will you be alright alone? That''s not to mention the corpse soldier and the giant spiders ¨C they''re quite troublesome, they are."


    "I''ll manage," Beam said gruffly, though he had no experience dealing with any of them. He simply didn''t want to let Greeves get involved any further, by offering him help and taking money off him. "So then, every time Iplete one of the requests, I''ll return here and you''ll give me 5 copper coins for each until it''s over, right?"


    "Hoho! Yer really not half bad at the calctions, are ya boy? You''re at the level of a merchant apprentice. Consider me impressed. Aye, I''ll agree to that little stiption, although I can smell your distrust of me through it, consider me unbothered and unoffended. I suppose it''s better to do it like that anyway, so you can deal with each quest individually and I can give you the info you need on them ¨C ''cos there''s a fair bit for each, surprisingly. Do you want to get started now? What''ll it be for the first quest eh? A Goblin hunt? Firewood? To be honest, I reckon the firewood and the food will take the longest, but there''s the risk when ites to Goblin hunting¡­ Difficult choices, eh?"


    "I''ll go for Goblin hunting," Beam said quickly, as he felt more and more cold drops of rain soak through his shirt and onto his skin. I''ll take the details for it now, if you''ll give them to me."


    "Alright, alright. I can see you''re eager. Better not end up a corpse though, ehd? That would be pretty disappointing, even for a sinister merchant like me. Be irritating to see an investment tank so early." Greeves said.


    "You haven''t invested a single coin yet," Beam pointed out, recalling his master''s words from the previous evening.


    "Haha! Right you are. And that''s what I call good business, mm? Right then, on to the first little bit of Goblin hunting. Aha¡­ here we are," he said, pulling out another sheet of paper from his pocket, as though he''d predicted that Beam would choose Goblin hunting first from the start, "yeah, we''ve got a nasty group of the little bastards a few hours walk to the east. A group of 5 from the report, but y''know, those reports are always wrong. Anyway, they''ve been butchering all the hogs up in the mountains and the deer too. The hunters are getting pissed, and one of them got killed a few weeks back. Been made into something of a big deal now."


    "A few hours'' walk to the east? Where are they? Near where the forests meet the ins?" Beam asked.


    "Oh? Yeah. That''s exactly where," Greeves said, with the first hint of true surprise. "I''ll just consider that a lucky guess, should I?"


    Beam shrugged. "Are we done here?"


    "We are. I wish you luck, you little shit," Greeves said, sticking out his hand for a handshake to conclude the deal.


    Beam eyed the hand warily for a few moments before epting.


    "I''m not going to force you, but if you get any interesting loot from these Goblins, I''d be happy to buy it off ya. Just the ears and teeth tend to sell reasonably well amongst the potion makers, but I''ll be surprised if you manage to get any, what with you going alone," Greeves said, ending the handshake with one of his trademark false white smiles and the offer of more business.

 Chapter 39: Battle With The Goblins - Part 5

    <h4>Chapter 39: Battle With The Goblins - Part 5</h4>


    Beam just nodded again. "I''ll see what happens and consider it."


    Then he turned his back on them and walked through the empty market square in the rain and back to the forest where his master was.


    Only, he''d forgotten his master''s bread. When he was halfway down the road out of the vige, he remembered it, and sprinted all the way back to the bakery for it, thoroughly drenched. The olddy had had a few choice words for him about looking after his health, but he''d only smiled and assured her that he was fine.


    Wandering back towards the forest with his bread in hand, he caught sight of something that he was growing used to seeing. It was the strange woman in ck again, with that long straight hair of hers, that went all the way down to her waist. She walked emotionlessly in the rain behind an old man, without moving to lift up her waxed ck robe to protect herself.


    Beam knew the old man, or at least, he knew his face. He''d seem him around a couple of times. It was the vige Elder, leaning heavily on a staff as he walked with a crooked back towards his house. The woman trailed after him.


    ¡­


    ¡­


    "Goblins, eh?" Dominus said, hearing about the first quest that Beam had chosen. He''d heard mention of it yesterday and been sceptical, but now that he knew the number of them, he was even more sure that it was a bad idea. "That damn merchant. He''s an evil bastard, he is."


    Beam frowned at that. "Are Goblins really that terrifying?" He''d never had an altercation with one personally. Though he''d seen signs of their existence, like carcasses they left behind in the woods and broken weapons and scraps of cloth. "They''re small, right? Like the size of a kid?"


    "Aye, and they have the strength of a kid too," Dominus agreed, "but their speed is extraordinary and their viciousness is out of this world. Once you get started on them, they''ll be looking for your head till the moment their heart stops. I think, a week ago, you likely would have struggled against a Goblin. It might have been fifty-fifty whether you''d live or not."


    "And now?" Beam asked.


    "Now I think you can kill one with certainty ¨C but that''s one. This here is a group of five. You''re not ready. Even that brute Judas would struggle. He''d manage it, but he''d struggle. He wouldn''t be able to do it without wounds. So, to set a single child on them, one with unknownbat abilities, that''s the height of callousness. That''s approaching evil," Dominus said darkly.


    "Mm¡­ Have I made a mistake?" Beam asked nervously. He''d thought he''d done well by solving the problem that his master set, on finally reaching an agreement with Greeves, one that had a benefit to him too, in the end.


    "Hah¡­" Dominus sighed, looking up at a sky that was still pouring with rain, then shook his head. "No. You did the best you could. But once this is over and you have your money, you would do well to be mindful of that man."


    "He did burn my house down, after all," Beam agreed.


    "This again was caused by your poor reputation though boy. Don''t get me wrong, you''re still just as trash as you were a week ago ¨C the improvements have been slight. For however long you''ve spent digging holes in this vige, you''ve been digging your own hole for the same length of time. You''ve been digging it deeper, cutting more and more people off, making sure you have no allies, and this is what happens. People like Greeves can smell society''s castoffs. They know exactly just how much they can take before the people rise up against them. And he knew very well that you had no allies, that was why he was so quick to target you," Dominus told him, his back against a tall pine tree as they avoided the worst of the rain within the mountains.


    Beam clenched his fist at that. "I really need to get better," he said aloud.


    Dominus smiled at that. It seemed that whatever disease Dominus had that made him seek progress so strongly, that disease was now spreading to his young apprentice. ''I haven''t made a mistake in choosing you then,'' Dominus said to himself.


    "Well, what''s done is done. You have a tough month ahead of you, boy. You know the problems you have to solve and you know what you''re going to gain by solving them and what you''re going to lose if you fail. This business with the Goblins ¨C yeah, you''re definitely not ready to take on five by yourself," Dominus said, "but we can use it as an opportunity to train you more. We''ll go seek them out. You''ll do your martial practice against them today."


    "You mean you''re going to help me?" Beam brightened. It was a weight off his shoulders to have Dominus in his corner. To someone who''d managed to wound the legendary Pandora Goblin, something as measly as a normal Goblin would see so pathetic inparison.


    "No," Dominus said, correcting him. "I''m not going to help you. I''m merely going to keep you from death. All the hard work is going to be done by you. These quests were assigned to you, after all."


    Beam didn''t know quite how that differed from helping, but he smiled without mentioning it, just d to have his master in his corner.


    "They''re a few hours'' walk to the east," Beam told him, "on the edges of the forest near the ins, like where you guessed there were some a few days ago."


    Dominus nodded at that, and they began in that direction.


    "Ah! Wait! What am I going to be fighting them with?" Beam realized. He didn''t even have an axe to his name, and he couldn''t imagine a stick would do much good against a Goblin. Not unless he found a long one and sharpened the end into a spear¡­ But then he didn''t even have a knife to do that.

 Chapter 40: Battle With The Goblins - Part 6

    <h4>Chapter 40: Battle With The Goblins - Part 6</h4>


    "Mm," Dominus murmured in consideration. "I suppose I can lend you this a while. Don''t break it." He reached into the folds of his jacket and withdrew a short dagger. He tossed it to Beam, who managed to fumble a catch.


    The boy ran his hand along the wooden handle, admiring the smooth sheath made of the same material, before drawing the de from its sheath and gasping as the steel caught the light. "So cool¡­" he murmured.


    "Careful of the edge. It''s razor-sharp," Dominus warned him, moving Beam''s fingers to correct how he was holding it. "Keep it firm in your hand, reverse grip, like this. It widens your options and makes it harder for an attacker to disarm you."


    The knife felt strange to Beam as he held it as his master had told him, in the reversed grip. He tried a few strikes, shing at the air, before trying a few thrusts.


    "Ehhh¡­ That''s awful," Dominus said, his face twisted as though he''d just seen something truly disgusting. Beam nched.


    "Was it really that bad?" He asked cautiously, not realizing.


    "Yeah¡­ I don''t know how you managed it, but that was the worst knife-wielding I''ve ever seen. Here," Dominus said, moving Beam''s arms and shifting his leg into a different stance. "Fight like you would unarmed, like I taught you. Only instead, this hand is now a w."


    It was a simple enough exnation, but something clicked as Beam listened to it, and he tried a few practice strikes again, shifting his weight and bnce as he would when he was training unarmed. He threw punches in the same way that he would before and kicks too, and his body naturally, as if by instinct, twisted the knife to deal the maximum amount of damage to the air.


    Dominus sighed with relief. "Thank the Gods," he said. "That''s better."


    Beam smiled and scratched his head, seeing that the relief was actually genuine. "It must have been really bad before, huh?"


    "It was beyond bad. It was a straight-up sin," Dominus told him. "But if you continue fighting like that, as you would unarmed, merely treating that knife there as an upgrade to your fist, you''ll do just fine. Now, shall we be off?"


    Beam nodded seriously and began along the most easterly path avable to them. Dominus'' house was typically to the north, higher in the mountains, so with this route Beam expected that most of it would be unexplored for him.


    "Ah, no," Dominus told him, seeing the boy settle into a fast walk. "If it is only a few hours by walk, then we should run it. Why waste valuable training opportunities? There''s only so much time in a day, after all. Don''t be so rigid in your thinking that you would overlook them."


    "We''re running all that way?" Beam asked, nervous. He''d never run that far before, not under Dominus'' supervision.


    "You are," Dominus nodded. "Off you go."


    Beam frowned at that, about to ask what his master was going to do, but then he saw the look on his face and thought better of it, merely breaking into a fast jog down the mountain track, looking over his shoulder once or twice as he went.


    Only when Beam was a distance away did Dominus finally break into something that could almost be called a run. However, it wasn''t quite what it was. Whereas Beam had to move his legs rapidly to generate the same amount of speed, Dominus hopped forward from one leg and with that, there was such an explosion of energy and speed that he was in the air for several moments, travelling a good distance before hended again.


    Beam''s eyes nearly fell out of his skull as he watched it, and, looking over his shoulder, he soon found that he had bounced off a tree, bruising himself again.


    "Watch where you''re going," Dominus told him, appearing behind him. "I''m not going to overtake you. It''s up to you to find the perfect route there and track them down."


    "Ah." Being told it so simply imbued Beam with a new seriousness as he fixed his gaze forward and concentrated on the path in front of him. Just as he had done in the ravine, through intuition, through what his body perceived as the slightest slopes of the nearbyndscape, he was able to guess which path led forward and which path led north.


    And, thus far, those guesses were proving to be correct. Even if they were not the absolute perfect route¡ªone that Dominus himself had only mapped out after spending a considerable amount of time in the mountains¡ªit was still an extremely effective one, and they were making good time forward, without having to encounter any significant obstacles.


    "That''s not an easy feat to do," Dominus mused to himself, as he considered the implications of Beam''s pathfinding skill. He knew just how rare the skill could be, especially in a world where rtively few explored the true unknown.


    With such thoughts in mind, Dominus kept pace, flitting along as he had. When his right leg touched the ground, he bounded forward with all the ease of his youth, with nary a thought. On that leg, he knew he could go so much faster if he willed it.


    However, on his left leg, where the Pandora Goblin poison had spread the worst, it was significantly more difficult. Merely getting the muscles of the leg to contract was far harder than it ought to be. It was as if the limb didn''t belong to him.

 Chapter 41: Battle With The Goblins - Part 7

    <h4>Chapter 41: Battle With The Goblins - Part 7</h4>


    But that wasn''t the worst part. The worst part was certainly the pain - a throbbing, awful thing, as though threatening to split Dominus'' shin in half should he make a single false step. And yet, again, pain was something Dominus was able to deal with - it had to be, after living with the Pandora Goblin poison for so long. It was theck of performance that hurt him. Now, all these yearster, it stung to see his left leg in such a state, only able to perform at 10% of what it was capable of in the past.


    "Such is the burden of old age," Dominus told himself. "But we''ve known this wasing for a long time. There should be no bitterness in our hearts towards it. We''ve done all we wished to do. We are satisfied, are we not?"


    The old knight''s head was filled with thoughts as he followed his apprentice. He saw Beam struggling along, his eyes wide open like a predator, scanning the route as they went and having to make instant decisions at forks in the path, guessing which way would be the right one. He was already breathing heavily, and there was yet a good distance to go.


    Seeing the youth''s valiant effort, Dominus couldn''t help but smile. ''No, I suppose we''re not satisfied quite yet,'' he thought, finally able to be honest with himself. ''So please, body of mine, give me a few more months, if you can. Let us see just how far this boy is able to go.''


    The longer they ran, the more Beam''s breathing grewboured and the more likely it seemed that he would have to stop halfway through. But then, something seemed to switch, for instead of growing worse, both his breathing and his pace stabilized. His body stopped panicking and started seeing the run for what it was ¨C just a mere hour of lightly-paced travel through the dense forests and steep slopes. However difficult that was, the body would manage.


    As soon as Beam''s body stabilized, their pace grew much more constant, and his decision-making looked even sharper. He made the whole thing seem casual, as he settled into an almost meditative state, neither trying to get there too quickly nor going too slow to avoid the worst of the pain. Simply constant, bnced motion.


    Nearing where Dominus knew their destination to be, he grew increasingly quiet as he observed his young apprentice to see what he might do. Whether or not he would recognize that the aura in the mountains had changed, that they had entered the territory of the Goblins.


    There were physical signs of it too, rather than just the change in the air and the unusual quiet. The Goblins had left their marks on some of the trees; there were straight scratches where they had carved their presence into the wood with sharpened stone tools. An amateur might mistake it for the territorial markings of a bear and overlook it, but these were far too straight and clean.


    Beam didn''t seem to notice yet, for he continued along the path he was running, his breathing regr and his movements showing no signs of slowing.


    Dominus didn''t say anything yet. This was the boy''s task, after all; he should learn the lesson himself.


    Even without noticing the physical indicators of the Goblin''s presence, Beam had already begun to put himself in an increasingly aware state, sensing that they''d covered the distance necessary, and if Greeves'' information was correct, they''d soon be having a run-in with the vicious little barbarians that the world scorned as Goblins.


    It was a footprint in the mud that made hime skidding to a halt. Now, the heavy rain - which had eased up only recently - was showing its blessing, with the thick, sticky mud encapsting a single child-sized footprint.


    "Goblins?" Beam murmured, catching his breath as he looked at it. He looked to his master for assistance or opinion, but Dominus merely shrugged, standing by his initial stance¡ªthat this was Beam''s quest and his alone.


    Seeing that he would get no input from his master, Beam looked at the footprint again. Whereas a normal human child might have had five toe prints in the mud, this one only had three. Not to mention, a normal human child shouldn''t be running barefoot through the mountain forest anyway¡ªnot with the amount of poisonous insects they could step on that would quite willingly deprive them of a limb permanently.


    The footprint was pointing north, deeper into the ck Mountains.


    For the locals, the ck Mountains were a perfect orienting point, for they were aligned nearly exactly with north. Usually, wherever you stood, the ck Mountains would be visible, letting you know your rtive direction as long as you could catch a glimpse of them.


    Seeing that they were heading north, Beam frowned. He didn''t know much about Goblins, but he did know that if they were anywhere, they were likely to be closer to the ins than deeper in the forest, high up in the mountains.


    For high up in the mountains was where other beasts roamed, like giant spiders. Thepetition for the weaker species¡ªthe Goblin¡ªwould prove fatal.


    Heading up into the mountains was strange to Beam, who had hoped they would follow simplistic patterns. Judging from their position, he guessed they were about twenty minutes of walking north of the ins. The footprint was quite bold, although not too deep into the forest. He was torn as he looked at it: would the Goblins be more likely to be north, now, judging by the footprint? Or had they only gone north to hunt? Would it be better then to try and find their nest, where they might be weaker?


    Beam frowned as he fell into thought. "Will I really be able to attack a Goblin''s nest though? It seems like that''s more likely to be well-defended, since Goblins are meant to be pretty intelligent, after all, right?" Again, he looked to his master as he said that, searching for any sign of approval. But again, Dominus merely shrugged. Beam went back to his thinking.

 Chapter 42: Battle With The Goblins - Part 8

    <h4>Chapter 42: Battle With The Goblins - Part 8</h4>


    "If I catch them out hunting," he said, his heart beating faster, "they''ll be more spread out and can make better use of their numbers, so that''s a disadvantage too. I wonder if I could take them out one by one, just using my speed?" Emotionally, his body thought it was a good idea, but he got no response from his master. He clenched his fist, finding theck of response discouraging, but decided to stick with it anyway.


    He stood up from his crouched position and stretched out his shoulders, checking the condition of his body after a long run. He wasn''t a hundred percent energized, but he was getting used to performing when exhausted, thanks to Dominus'' tutge. Now, if anything, since his limbs were a little tired, he felt morefortable.


    "I''ll go north," he decided, "and try to catch them individually while they''re hunting."


    It was the best guess he could manage, but he still wasn''t confident in it. He took the dagger Dominus had given him from the sheath at his belt and drew it, moving into the trees that the footprints pointed towards, moving as stealthily as he knew how.


    He found immediately that following the same path as the Goblins was hard ¨C for they were at least half the size he was, or so he assumed, from the stories he had heard and the feet he''d seen.


    Beam was not a tall boy by any stretch. Dominus was average height, and Beam was still a couple of fingers smaller than him. So for a Goblin to be half his size meant they were truly miniature, and theparison to a child was fair game.


    But it was only in height and strength that theparison fit. For, already Beam could see a viciousness to their actions that did not match children. He spotted the freshly killed corpse of a squirrel, torn into pieces, its bones scattered through the trees. Beam looked at it in horror, feeling a terrible sense of wrongness.


    Whilst predators were often known to leave the corpses of their prey in quite a mess, this was different. This was as though the squirrel had personally offended them. This seemed like a kill more out of rage than out of predatory instinct. It was immensely unsettling. Beam gulped, almost doubting his decision to attempt to hunt them and he continued onwards.


    There were periods of rockiness amongst the trees where the Goblins'' footprints faded, but for the most part, they were rtively easy to track thanks to the rain. Beam thought it was peculiar that such intelligent creatures wouldn''t move with more caution. Then he supposed that it would only be humans that would be tracking the Goblins by eyesight ¨C the other creatures would be going off their scents ¨C and it was likely humans that the Goblins feared least.


    The further along the trail of footprints that Beam followed, the more it seemed like he was making a mistake. After all, the Goblins themselves seemed to have no fear of humans. They seemed even tant about their actions, barrelling over the well-worn hunting tracks that the local hunters had worn down over many seasons of hard walking. These were ''mistakes'' that would be easy to avoid, yet they didn''t seem to even attempt it.


    ''What even are Goblins?'' Beam fell to wondering. As he followed their trail of destruction, he realised that they were quite unlike any other animal that he had ever seen. He found more corpses of small animals along the route. That of small birds and more squirrels, with blood and flesh strewn against trees, as though the purpose of the kill had merely been to make a mess.


    Beam had to keep looking over his shoulder to make sure that Dominus was still with him, as he felt the hairs on the back of his neck steadily stick further and further up, and a cold sweat ran down the length of his back.


    Ten minutes into following the Goblin''s trail with Dominus'' dagger in hand, Beam had toe to a stop and collect himself.


    He was breathing far heavier than he ever had been during the run. His heart was pounding as his adrenaline was racing. He held a hand to his chest, whilst noticing the queasiness in his stomach. He recognized the emotion ¨C but only barely. It was fear. He held his hand up in front of his face and saw that it was quivering with the emotion. A true honest to goodness fear.


    He caught his master looking at him, and he embarrassedly tried to hide his hands and, in turn, his fear. But nothing escaped the old knight''s eyes. It was only natural after all, when faced with a threat that could end your life, without the experience of ever dealing with it, how could fear not make itself known?


    "Don''t try to suppress your fear," Dominus told him, speaking for the first time in what felt like hours to Beam. The boy looked up sharply, receiving the piece of advice. "Every emotion you have has utility, even the ones scorned by normal folk. Fear is such an emotion. Fear is a liquid. Fear is an armour that will protect you. Fear will always find where you are weakest, and concentrate itself there. It is the emotion of perception. Do not deny its utility."


    Beam cocked his head as he received the advice, trying to understand it. "Fear as a liquid?" He repeated, not quite getting it. He only really understood the part of fear as perception, for when he was frightened, his senses were certainly heightened, and he would flinch at even the most minor things.


    "Am I¡­ Am I going about this right?" Beam asked anxiously, not raising a question about his fear, but about his chosen method for attacking the Goblins.


    Dominus merely shrugged again as he received the question. "This is a matter of strategy, and like I told you, I''m far from being the best strategist in the world. However, there are a few tried and proven methods of going about this, ones that even someone as poorly versed in strategy as me can carry out. But I won''t let you in on any yet. This here is a problem, young Beam. One of many that will confront you in the future. In the same way that you are able to tell what path to take as you run through the mountains, you must decide on a route to victory here. It doesn''t have to be perfect, it just has to get you where you need to be."


    Beam gulped. Even though he didn''t feel a relief of the pressure, since his master still didn''t give him any of the answers that he sought, he still felt strangely reassured just by talking about it, with Dominus'' excessive calm rubbing off on him. To the old knight, the whole affair must have seemed so trivial, for Beam couldn''t sense the slightest bit of unease from him. In fact, he looked moreid back than he ever had, as though he was morefortable in positions like this than he was sitting by the fire in an evening.

 Chapter 43: Battle With The Goblins - Part 9

    <h4>Chapter 43: Battle With The Goblins - Part 9</h4>


    ''Find the right path,'' Beam thought to himself. ''No¡­ Find a path. It doesn''t need to be the right one. It just needs to work.'' He repeated those words to himself over and over like a mantra, as he gradually restored some of the thinking function of his brain.


    Now that he was calming down somewhat, he reviewed his initial n: to use his speed to his advantage and attempt to take care of each Goblin individually before they could group up and get behind him. Again, it made his heart beat faster as he imagined it. It was a reckless strategy, for sure, and he could envision many things with it going wrong.


    For instance, he could be underestimating their speed and overrating his own. After all, even though they had the strength of children, they were said to be just as fast as adults, which would likely make for a highly confusingbination, given their size.


    If Beam leapt in and attempted to take care of one of them, it was possible that they could dodge and he''d find himself outnumbered 5 to 1 with nowhere to escape to.


    "Escape to?" Beam said aloud, as he considered the only w he could perceive in his n. If something went wrong, there was no need for him to stand and fight. Assuming he could even stay slightly ahead of the Goblins, it was possible he could run to somewhere where it was rtively safe and where at least he had the advantage.


    Dominus raised an eyebrow as he watched the cogs turning.


    Beam was looking around, getting ay of thend, trying to think of somewhere where he could best a Goblin. He thought about it and thought about it, before his eyes lit up and he thought he might havee up with an answer.


    "Master, you said you weren''t going to help me with this quest, right?" Beam asked.


    "That I did," Dominus confirmed.


    "But I can still ask you questions as normal, right? About the abilities of Goblins?" Beam checked.


    Dominus tilted his head and thought for a moment. "Mm¡­ I suppose I''ll allow it," he decided, wanting to see what his apprentice woulde up with.


    "Can Goblins swim?" Beam asked.


    Dominus'' eyes widened in surprise as he heard the question. "Ahh¡­" he smiled in understanding. "No. Not regr Goblins like this anyway."


    Beam nodded twice, putting the n together in his head. From where they were, judging by they of thend, if he raced further north he would likely find himself at the mountain river they often trained at. Of course, he would be further upstream than they ever had been before, but he didn''t doubt that he''d be able to make something work as long as he found it.


    He''d brave it all on this one attack, he decided. And then if things went wrong, he''d sprint for the mountain river and he''d use the fact that the Goblins couldn''t swim to his advantage.


    He kept nodding to himself, as in his mind, the n began to click together as something that might work. Of course, it was only a bare-bones strategy and it was reckless for sure. There was still a lot that could go wrong. He might end up at a dead end as he rushed towards the river, or he might have miscalcted entirely and end up somewhere where it was impossible to cross, even with his meagre swimming skills.


    But for him, it was more than enough. That was all he needed. The slightest glimmer of possibility and he could set his fear aside and bet on it.


    "Let''s go," Beam said to his master, moving forward once more in pursuit of the Goblins'' footprints, moving far more quickly than he had earlier. He wanted to find them now. He wanted to ensure he killed at least one of them before he staged his retreat. That was his goal. He gripped his knife tightly as he thought of it.


    Before, where he was seeing a single set of Goblin footprints, he started to see more. The footprints crossed over and obscured each other, making it difficult to tell just how many there were. Beam guessed that the creatures must have been hunting a distance apart, but now they were grouping up closer together again. Possibly to take on a more sizable game.


    Beam continued forward at a jog, keeping his ears primed for any signs of movement. He was lucky that his master didn''t make a single sound as he followed along behind him ¨C there was nothing to obscure the sounds of the forest save for the beat of Beam''s own footprints.


    It was not long after that he first heard tell of them.


    An awful, blood-curdling scream. When his parents told him stories of Gods and demons when he was a child, this was the sound that Beam had always associated with demons. His adrenaline spiked upon hearing it and his fear returned two fold. He froze up for an instant to calm himself.


    A few deep breaths, a reassurance of his n. A few moments like that and Beam managed to settle himself, in time to hear the next squeal, one that sounded like a reply to the first.


    Beam''s hearing wasn''t the best, it was merely average for a boy his age. But despitecking an abundance of skill in that department, he still fought to make his senses work and pull more information from the noise. He guessed that the second sound hade from his left, about fifty paces away. Whilst the first hade from his right, about the same distance.


    Here again, just as he had along the run, Beam arrived at a fork in the road. A choice between the Goblin on the left, or the Goblin on the right. He had no idea what waited for him on either side, and there was too little information to stage a real educated guess.


    In the end, he settled on the Goblin to left, merely because it would be quicker to get to the mountain river from it if anything went wrong. He had no idea about the true number of Goblins that awaited him there, but he plunged forward nheless, forcing his feet to move quickly, as soundlessly as they possibly could.

 Chapter 44: Battle With The Goblins - Part 10

    <h4>Chapter 44: Battle With The Goblins - Part 10</h4>


    But that was a skill he had yet to master. Each step he took he felt like he was awaking all the spirits of the underworld. It was painfully loud. He winced with each stride.


    "Guh, I need to get better at this too," he whispered to himself without producing a sound.


    His grip on the knife felt loose the more steps he took as his hand grew slick with sweat. It began to feel foreign and unsteady in his hand. His mind began to overthink, imagining the killing blow once he got to the Goblin, expecting it to look a certain way and respond in a certain fashion.


    He saw the leaves rustle up ahead and he stopped breathing, ttening himself against a tree. He looked behind him, and his master was nowhere to be seen. Likely out of consideration for his hunt ¨C making sure he wouldn''t give them away.


    Beam watched with a widened eye from his spot, seeing the branches move frantically, as a little creature tussled around inside of it.


    It was a few moments more before it emerged, dragging the corpse of a baby bear with it.


    The Goblin had dark green skin, as Beam had been told they would, but he didn''t expect it to be such a hideous shade. It was the colour of mold, almost approaching blue, a thoroughly sickening colour, especially when contrasted with the deep red blood that stained the creature''s teeth and poured down its torso as it took maddened bites of the bear even as it dragged it.


    It was barefoot, just as Beam had expected it to be, but around its waist, it wore a fur rag held together with roped ivy. And in its hand, it clutched a spear longer than it was, with a vicious-looking sharpened flint tip, fastened together by the same ivy as its clothes.


    Beam''s stomach suddenly turned as he observed it. There was something terribly wrong about its existence. It didn''t seem natural. It was as though a God had fused together two opposing entities, and they were a constant war inside one sac of flesh.


    It would move like a human for a few paces, marching with its spear, dragging its kill behind it, and then it would be ovee by what seemed like a bout of insanity and it would suddenly lunge back at the corpse with its bare teeth and tear a lump out of the flesh, with fur and all still attached.


    It was thoroughly unsettling and more than a little intimidating. If that was how vicious the creature was now, when it should have been a moment of calm and victory, then how erratic would it be in battle?


    Beam''s nerves were fried as he pulled back behind his tree, daring to look no longer, hearing instead that the Goblin was getting closer with each step.


    His mind was near useless. It only gave him short and simple panicked lines. ''We''re going to die. Die. We''re going to die.'' It said endlessly as his whole body shook.


    With the fear, it felt like he was experiencing the pain of death already. While Dominus said that it was his armour and that would protect him, in that moment it felt more like fire that was burning him and limiting him. Beam wanted nothing more than the fear to stop.


    Realising that, he hit upon a sudden thought. "The Goblin is causing the fear. If I kill it the fear will stop. I''ll kill it. I''ll kill it and stop the fear.'' His mind spoke erratically in a desperate attempt at reassurance.


    His fingers clutched the knife as he heard the Gobline continually closer. It was now or never. If he let ite past without attacking, he''d die. He was too close, far too close. He had to attack, and he had to kill.


    He steadied his breathing. The Goblin was so close now that Beam could hear its rasping breath. He didn''t know where to attack from to surprise it, he only knew that he''d prefer to attack it from the back, however that was possible.


    But the second Beam made a step to move on his wobbly legs, he crushed a stick, and the Goblin heard it, its neck snapping towards him with narrowed yellow eyes.


    There was no dy in its response. As soon as its eyes locked on to him, it jumped, like a ma was attracting it, it shrieked through the air, seeming ready to bite Beam despite the spear it had in its hand.


    Beam panicked. His bnce was all off. He couldn''tnd a perfect strike from how he stood, despite Dominus'' training, despite his lessons that a true master could find his bnce from any position.


    As the Goblin lunged through the air towards him, Beam merely did what was instinctual and kicked out with a front kick, sending the hellish green demon sprawling into the side of a tree.


    ''A mistake!" Beam realised. He could have waited. He should have waited. He''d already let his best chance slip. The Goblin was most vulnerable whilst it was airborne ¨C that should have been his chance tond the killing blow, but he''d panicked and chosen to create distance instead.


    But like that, the spell of fear was nearly broken. Even though he''d failed to secure the killing blow, Beam had been able to force himself to move, despite the Goblin''s overwhelming killing intent, and now that he''d sent the Goblin sprawling, he ran after it before it could recover.


    The creature opened its jaws wide and gave a high-pitched battle cry as it scrambled to its feat far more quickly than its short frame would lead you to believe.


    But Beam was in close now, he was finding his rhythm. He started to feel the moves he''d begun to practise with Dominus, and as the Goblin raised its spear to lunge at him, Beam twisted, ducking, allowing the deadly point over his shoulder and using his hand to secure it in ce.


    It was true what they said ¨C indeed a human was far stronger than a Goblin. Now that he held its weapon in ce, Beam could feel it did not have the strength to wrestle it back. But the Goblin did not seem to panic or fall into fear, instead, it only grew angrier, as it pulled on the spear harder, whilst lunging in with its jaw to bite Beam in the arm.

 Chapter 45: Battle With The Goblins - Part 11

    <h4>Chapter 45: Battle With The Goblins - Part 11</h4>


    Beam''s movements were beginning to feel right. He was beginning to feel an electricity burning through his veins, a nervous excitement coupled with his fear, as though one side of him relished the chaos, whilst another side of him merely acknowledged it as necessary.


    But Beam was ready for it this time. As its face came close, he buried his knife through its eye.


    There was another sharp squeal, that droned on longer than thest one, ending in a gradual gurgle as green blood spewed and the Goblin spasmed. Its limbs thrashed and its jaw gnashed, as though trying to at least get a wound on Beam before it died, even though its brain was no longer functional.


    A few momentster, it was well and truly dead. Beam stood over it, breathing heavily, his knife still buried deep within its skull, its handle slick with the creature''s blood.


    "Hah¡­ Hah¡­" Beam breathed, unable to calm his adrenaline, hardly even able to process his victory. He''d thought killing something that had such human characteristics¡­ he''d thought that would be hard. He still hesitated to butcher animals after all, feeling immense guilt at taking advantage of their innocence.


    But with the Goblin, as soon as he''d ovee his fear, there had been no hesitation. No guilt. Just like how people flinched in disgust when they saw a mosquitond on their skin to suck their blood, Beam too felt the same instinct. Perhaps even more strongly. Every fibre of his being had screamed out their overwhelming urge to see the creature dead, and once it was done, it was done.


    Beam dared to pull his knife out, wiping off the blood on the Goblin''s bloodstained rags. His mind was far calmer than it had been earlier. The chaos of the unknown no longer inflicted its weight onto him. He knew what he was up against now ¨C and he knew that he had the skill to stop it.


    A scream sounded deep within the forest, followed by a roar. Beam assumed that the first belonged to the Goblins that the one he''d killed had been hunting with, but he couldn''t identify the second. It was the deep bellow of arge creature. All he knew was that it was dangerous.


    He could hear them stampeding through the forest from two different directions. One from the northeast, deeper in the mountains and another from the southeast. If he wasn''t careful, he''d get pincered - even Beam knew that, as inexperienced as he was.


    Dominus watched on with narrowed eyes from a distance away. "I still can''t see it," he murmured. "There''s something there. The boy is tapping into something I don''t understand. But what? What''s his state of being? How can he remain so bnced whilst having two Gods raging inside of him?"


    Beam forced in deep breaths, deciding on his next course of action. Even if the fear was reduced, it was still there, and it clouded his ability to think. All he could do was stay settled on the n that he''d arrived on beforehand.


    He put himself in the best position to flee towards the mountain river, taking a quick nce in that direction to make sure his path wasn''t obstructed for at least as far as he could see ¨C which didn''t happen to be very far in the dense pine forest ¨C and then he readied his knife in reverse grip preparing for the assault.


    They grew louder as they grew closer, with more screams being thrown into the air.


    "RAHHHH! RAH! RAH! RAHHHH!" They chorused. Beam thought he caught four distinct sounds, along with the asional roar of whatever mighty beast it was that was amongst them.


    "Mighty beast?" Beam dared to mutter to himself, noticing his own thoughts. "What the hell am I doing standing here when I reckon a mighty beast is about toe along?" He joked quietly, seeing if humour could help calm his electrified nerves, if only a little.


    The branches snapped as the creatures sped closer. Whatever massive being it was that the roar belonged to, it was heavy and the ground thundered from its approach.


    "Oh shit¡ª" Beam cursed, catching a sh of brown fur between the trees. He didn''t wait to see the creature fully. His instincts were screaming at him to run now that it hade this close.


    He scarpered through the trees, heading higher up into the mountains towards the river. He dared to look over his shoulder as he ran, just in time to see two Goblins burst into the area where he just was, spears in their hands, running erratically ¨C never quite in a straight line ¨C as they shrieked all the while.


    And, just after it, gradually gaining on them, was the enormous frame of a brown bear, roaring in fury.


    Upon spotting the corpse of her child, the bear roared even louder, her fury doubling and her attacks bing more vicious. She reared on her hind legs, pping at one of the Goblins with her massive forepaws, ded with ws.


    The Goblin dodged it nimbly, sounding as though it wasughing as it did. A thoroughly unsettling noise, a cross between a cricket''s chirping and the high-pitched squealing that it had been letting loose earlier.


    As it dodged, itshed out with its spear, managing to get a shallow wound into the bear''s side. But it did nothing to slow it. With its thick fur and blubber as armour, the mother bear roared in irritation, as it instead lunged with her jaws at the other Goblin nearest it.


    This one managed to roll out the way too, before leaping onto the brown bear''s back for a moment and stabbing it with its spear, then, in a moment of madness, trying to bite it with its wide jaws.

 Chapter 46: Battle With The Goblins - Part 12

    <h4>Chapter 46: Battle With The Goblins - Part 12</h4>


    The bear shook it off and the Goblin went tumbling through the air,nding hard with its back against a tall pine tree and falling to the floor, temporarily stunned.


    Before the bear could finish it off though, the other two Goblins from the southeast broke through the trees in their way and went leaping through the air onto its exposed back, bothnding their spears in at nearly the same time.


    Still, that wasn''t enough to slow the bear. It shook them both off in anger and they both went tumbling through the air.


    Seeing this fight from a distance, Beam slowed. His heartbeat increased once more, as he sensed an opportunity. ''They''re focused on the bear¡­ I should be able to finish one off in the chaos.''


    He was torn. Torn between letting the opportunity slip from his grasp and torn between deviating from the n that he knew gave him the best chance of victory overall. He didn''t want to make a mistake. He didn''t have enough time to think, though, as with each passing second, his window of opportunity was narrowing.


    Dominus felt a twinge of excitement as he saw Beam turn. "Is he going to dive into that..?"


    Beam tutted, his worse instincts getting the better of him, not wanting to miss out on his chance, he went dashing back in again, circling through the trees, his knife in hand, looking for his opportunity.


    The bear was on her back legs, swatting at the Goblins as they ran around her. Foam collected at her mouth as her desperate attempts exhausted her more and more. Rather than securing revenge for her child, it looked like she too would soon sumb to the same menace.


    When the Goblins lunged onto her back now, she had a harder time shaking them off, for the other three would attack her again from the front, wounding her even more rapidly.


    The closer Beam got, the tighter the Goblin''s formation began to look. With the bear slowing, his opportunities to catch a Goblin off guard neared zero. The bnce of power from two Goblins to four appeared significant.


    A few more stabs to her side and the bear fell for the first time, only just barely managing to get to her feet again, but the end was already near.


    The Goblins seized the opportunity, growing gleeful the weaker and weaker their enemy got and the more their weapons were stained with red. They seemed to have forgotten about their fallenrade entirely as they focused all their efforts on dealing with the bear.


    A loud and pitiful cry and the mother bear copsed in a cloud of dust, dead.


    With that, Beam had missed his chance to make anything of the fight and now he was a mere ten paces away as the Goblins celebrated their kill, tearing chunks of flesh from the animal with their razor-sharp teeth, jumping all over it. Thoroughly desecrating the corpse.


    "What was that?" Dominus murmured in surprise. To the outside observer, it looked like mere indecisiveness, but Dominus could have sworn he sensed something beyond that. The way Beam had prowled forward, Dominus was sure he''d see the opportunity to engage. The twitching of his wrist and the knife it held, they all pointed towards an understanding, an intent to move forward.


    He''d seen the Goblins'' weakness, he''d even imagined it, his body had responded to that. Yet he sat rooted in ce. "Hm¡­" Dominus continued to watch with a hand held to his chin.


    As a unit of four, Beam ¨C as inexperienced as he was ¨C could see no weaknesses. His only chance now was to bait them to the mountain river.


    But could he even manage it? The Goblins had managed to outrun a bear, after all. ''No, that''s not right.'' Beam corrected himself. They hadn''t managed to outrun the bear, it was in as day that they were the slower creature. But somehow, with their erratic movements and their shorter size, they''d been able to evade the attacks as they came.


    After reassuring himself thus, Beam decided that he could probably still outrun them, if only barely. If the Goblin''s talentsy in evasion ¨C due to their small size ¨C that would not help them in their pursuit of him, as long as he could stay ahead of them.


    He sucked in a deep breath and prepared himself. "Hey, assholes," he said with a shaky voice as he stepped out from behind his cover.

 Chapter 47: Battle With The Goblins - Part 13

    <h4>Chapter 47: Battle With The Goblins - Part 13</h4>


    The Goblins froze their movements together, as their heads rotated all at once, locking their dangerous yellow eyes onto him. It was a horrific sight. The killing intent of all four Goblins together almost froze Beam to the spot. If he hadn''t killed that Goblin earlier, and thus assured some level of confidence against him, then he was quite sure he wouldn''t have been able to move at all.


    The Goblins shrieked suddenly, a mad, horrifying anger. They all leapt in different directions as they bounced off the trees and scampered towards him, so ovee with their hatred of humanity that they neglected their own safety. One scampered in such a hurry that his foot slipped on the dried pine needles of the forest floor and he went skidding face-first for a distance, before scrambling to his feet again, full of animal fury.


    Beam didn''t feel any need to wait any longer. He turned on his heel and sprinted through the forest, jumping up onto rocky ledges as he climbed higher through the mountains, zigzagging through the trees.


    He didn''t need to look behind him to check whether they were still following. They made such a noise of fury as they ran that it was near iparable to their battle with the bear. It wouldn''t have been surprising to Beam if every creature in the massive forested mountain range of the ck mountains heard their cry.


    Beam made decision after decision instantly as he navigatednd that he''d never set foot on before, having to bnce calmly looking ahead, with frantically keeping his speed to his absolute highest output. But that too was dangerous. If he didn''t get it right, then he''d run out of energy too soon and they''d soon catch up on him.


    He sprinted at the start, then slowed himself slightly to a fast jog, daring to look over his shoulder to see just how much distance was between himself and the nightmarish Goblins.


    They were not far behind. The whole fleet of themunched themselves through the trees like rabid monkeys, only staying between 5 and 10 paces behind at most. It was certainly far from enough to make Beam rx, but so far it seemed that his gamble on his speed was paying off.


    The route grew rockier the higher he ran. He started to worry that he''d climb too high and that the mountain river would be too far below him once he reached its edge.


    He attempted to make allowances for that, putting his newly found and trained pathfinding skill to the test. He veered off left, choosing a northwest diagonal rather than just the straight north route that he''d been following. He reasoned that to the west, the river was likely to be more simr to what he was used to.


    It did not take long before sensation in his legs dulled and was reced by an overwhelming ache that demanded he stop at the earliest possible opportunity. But with true hell screaming along behind him, he didn''t have much chance of that.


    He felt a sharp pain on the top of his ear as he saw a Goblin''s spear stream past him and embed itself into the earth in front of him.


    "Shit!" Beam cursed, beginning to zigzag some more, making sure that he wouldn''t be an easy target. Wherever he could, he stepped in front of a tree, so that he had a shield should any more projectilese streaming his way. But that was just a temporary solution.


    Another Goblin spear came at him, apparently inspired by the attempts of the first, and it nicked his forearm as it skidded past, just as he was dodging to the left. Blood welled up through the sleeve in his shirt, apanied by biting pain.


    He fought to remain calm as he continued to look at they of thend around him, guessing the best routes. If his intuition was correct, then he guessed that the river was not too far away now. From the way the rocks increased and the trees grew more sparse, he assumed there had to be a ravine not far off.


    He prepared himself for its arrival, skidding past arge boulder that stood in his way, sending mud flying as he went. A spear bounced off the rock where he had stood just a few moments before.


    He didn''t have time to look to see if the menacing green creatures were collecting their weapons after they''d thrown them, or whether throwing them as they were had even slowed them down at all.


    The ravine soon came into sight and he could see the gurgling waters of the mountain river rushing below.


    It looked far more menacing than it did further downstream. The water boiled with a white spray as it rushed over several short waterfalls, spilling into the sh in the rocky earth of the ravine.


    It was a harsher descent as well, as Beam had feared it might be. Whereas he was used to steep but still somewhat muddy slopes, this was nearly all rock. There was only the barest incline and the barest amount of trees.


    Beam ran alongside it for a moment, taking it all in, trying to solve the first step of the puzzle. And then, he leapt.


    He skidded down the slope, sending lots of small stones as he went, reaching out with his arm and digging in his feet to try and slow his descent. He managed to grasp onto the thin branch of a slope-growing tree in order to bring his momentum to a halt.


    He''d fallen a great distance, ten strides at least, which should have put him ahead of the Goblins with his quick decision-making. But this kind of terrain was their territory. As they''d demonstrated in the battle with the bear, rather than just straight speed, it was their agility and strange nimbleness that they excelled in.

 Chapter 48: Battle With The Goblins - Part 14

    <h4>Chapter 48: Battle With The Goblins - Part 14</h4>


    But that didn''t mean they could simply throw themselves forward without a single care.


    "If they do, they''ll die," Beam''s eyes shed dangerously, as he guessed what was going on behind him. With his back exposed and him clinging to the tree with seemingly nowhere to escape, the first of the Goblins hadn''t been able to help itself and it had leapt straight off the top of the slope, its jaws wide,cking the spear that it had thrown earlier.


    Beam turned, surprising it strongly enough that even as mad and as fearcking as it was, the creature gave a squeal of surprise, before it fell onto the knife that Beam held extended, plunging itself through the chest.


    The sudden change from the hunter to the hunted had left it unable to react in time, and it coughed up a mouthful of green blood as ity there on the end of Beam''s knife. It took but an instant for the anger to take over, as it parted its jaws once more and lunged in manically for Beam''s neck.


    This time it was his turn to be surprised. He hadn''t anticipated that it would still have so much fight in it, even after he''d clearly hit a vital organ. He twisted, trying to throw it off his de and town towards the bottom of the ravine, but he wasn''t fast enough. A few of the little daggers that the Goblin had for yellow teeth, they tore into Beam''s flesh and took with it a chunk from his shoulder as a parting gift.


    With the tearing of Beam''s flesh, the Goblin''sst rope of stability also tore and it fell with a squeal down to the bottom of the deep ravine. A hard rock silenced it and it moved no more.


    "That was it," Dominus murmured. "He''s demonstrating skill far above his supposed level ¨C but that isn''t how progress is meant to work. You don''t suddenly tap into things. You build them up over time. And that aura of darkness thates when his eyes sh¡­ The curse manifests itself¡­ Perhaps he''s not bnced at all."


    With those words to himself, things started to fall into ce for Dominus. But he hadn''t seen enough yet to confirm his suspicions.


    Watching the spectacle, the three Goblins that had just arrived didn''t make the same mistake. They descended the slope together, leaving no openings for Beam to exploit. Beam grunted despite the pain in his shoulder and he rolled back onto the slope, allowing gravity to grant him speed as he searched for his next foothold to slow his momentum.


    This time it was a boulder, buried into the side of the slope. Beam bounced off it painfully, slowing down just in time before he was dealt a serious injury. But he could wait no longer and it was straight on to the next obstacle. The Goblins were gaining on him with each passing second, and his only hope of salvation was the dark running waters of the mountain river.


    "Guh." Every new obstacle that he used to slow himself brought a fresh jolt of pain. He was too panicked to make the absolute best decisions. The best his body could manage was merely keeping him alive as they went stumbling for the bottom of the ravine and the hope offered by the rocky riverbank.


    Even as the slope began to grow more gentle, transitioning from cliff to the t bottom of the ravine, Beam didn''t let his momentum slow for a second. The gentler the incline, the more power he put into his legs, sending himself forward, doing what he could to avoid the Goblin attacks as they came.


    One flew over his shoulder, just barely missing him as they hit the bottom of the slope. Beam barely spared it a nce as he rolled to his feet, conserving his momentum as best he could.


    The creature was in front of him now though, to the left. Even as he worked to avoid it, it still managed to ovep its path with his. But as it lunged, Beam hit it with a well-timed kick, sending it sprawling, buying just enough time for him to reach the edge of the river.


    "That''s it!" Dominus murmured. "That strange overwhelming dominance¡­ Why can that only manifest itself in shes? Something is continually pulling it back."


    "GOOD!" Beam shouted, even with his lungs so starved of air. For the river ¨C despite being a little harder to reach than he''d hoped ¨C it offered him the hope of crossing in the form of a wet log held fast against the rushing current by three jutting rocks. He knew he wouldn''t be able to climb across it, given how slick and unsteady it was liable to be ¨C but he didn''t need to. He just needed it to offer some respite against the angry rushing current.


    He didn''t hesitate. He jumped straight into the river.


    All the sounds of the world were drowned out as he was forced underwater ¨C he could only hear the rushing of liquid and feel it as it desperately sought to drag him under.


    Here, Beam was met with another near-fatal miscalction. A rushing under current deep below the surface of the water, grabbing at his feet and attempting to force him down even deeper.


    Beam could sense that the river here ran far deeper than one might expect from they of thend. There had to have been a cavern under it. From that under water flow, as soon as it got a true hold on a person, there was no escaping. Especially if their swimming skills were as meagre as Beam''s.


    He thrashed ungracefully to escape it, pulling his legs up into his stomach so the deeper current couldn''t reach him and he wed for the surface as his lungs burned, begging for him to breathe.


    His hand reached up first, then his mouth managed to grab the slightest gulp of oxygen before the water forced its way into his lungs instead. He panicked even more and fought to stay upright, coughing as he did.


    His back soon found the log that he had spied before he jumped in and it offered him just enough respite from the current to save his life.


    He steadied himself on it, as it swayed back and forth, threatening to shift from its hold on the rocks and send Beam straight for the waterfall ahead of him. But Beam was careful with it, he only used it as much as he dared, as he slowly made his way across the river and climbed up the rocky ledge out onto the other side.


    Exhausted, he stood with his knife in hand, ring defiantly at the three Goblins on the other side. They howled angrily, making run attempts, as though seeking to jump the entire river, but then fear would get a hold of them and they''d back off.

 Chapter 49: Battle With The Goblins - Part 15

    <h4>Chapter 49: Battle With The Goblins - Part 15</h4>


    It seemed to Beam that water was even more their weakness than he had expected.


    He allowed himself a smile, as he fought to stay on his feet despite the exhaustion. The river was not particrly wide. One could reach the middle of it in a single jump, just as Beam had ¨C but there was no way for them to clear it entirely, unless they swam.


    And now, it was merely a matter of angering the creatures enough that they would attempt the treacherous crossing.


    Beam reached down by his feet to pick up a rock. His arm felt numb from where the Goblin had bitten his shoulder, but there was still enough strength in it to fling a stone across the river, bouncing it off the head of the closest Goblin.


    The creature looked at him, stunned for a few moments. The blow didn''t have enough strength to hurt it ¨C but it was more than enough to annoy it. It hollowed, gaining enough anger to finally ovee its fear of the water. It ran,unching itself a further distance than Beam had managed, somehow making it to the end of the log.


    It took a moment to bnce itself before it thundered along the slick piece of wood and leapt up on to the other side.


    But that had been within Beam''s expectations. The point had never been to drown the Goblins, necessarily. It was merely to at the very least ensure they couldn''t attack with the full strength of their numbers.


    Beam''s exhaustion lent his movements an efficiency they didn''t have before, and as soon as he saw the Goblin''s head peak over his bank of the river, he buried his knife in its neck and twisted it out in a sh, half severing the creatures head, before his boot made contact with it and he allowed the body to fall into the river.


    "The more tired he''s getting, the more he''s tapping into his potential¡­" Dominus murmured. "I see ¨C so that''s how it is," he said, finally realizing something.


    Indeed, it was not that Beam was perfectly bnced, as he had assumed before. It was not mere bnce that kept him alive all those years against the curse of Ingolsol. It was resistance. He wielded both together, though it was resistance that manifest itself more than bnce.


    Dominus could only assume that, somehow, Beam had kept the curse at bay by mere resistance, whilst at the same time letting the cursee forth for a moment, to retain an overall bnce. A dangerous dance, where he tried to manhandle his partner. It was nowhere near as graceful as Dominus had first assumed ¨C it was a desperate struggle to live.


    Beam continually suppressed the curse that afflicted him, allowing it to shift at times, but never allowing it to make a connection with his soul. And now that he had the blessing of udia, he was doing the same to that. Even as he fought the Goblins, there was a battle continually raging in his soul, as he dared to war with two Gods.


    Beam smiled grimly seeing his strategy work. "Only you two left." He told them, his fear nearly all but gone as just pure exhaustion dominated his entire being.


    It was either his smile, seeing theirrade so ruthlessly ughtered, or the fact that they knew it was possible to reach him. Their hesitation was gone. The two creatures leapt at the same time in a foolishly ill-thought-out attempt. It looked like they would barrel into each other and go crashing into the water, or at the very least flip the log under their weight.


    But, somehow, neither happened. The log bounced high on the opposite end, looking like it was about to be dislodged, but the Goblins ¨C saved by their own nimbleness and bnce ¨C leapt forward to the centre, managing to steady it again.


    Even though they''d leapt at the same time and were trying to barge past each other, the width of the log would still not allow them to reach Beam by any other means but single file.


    Heunched another rock at them before they came, pleased just to be able to unsettle them somewhat. Then it was time to greet the first of the Goblins.


    Green hands the size of a child''s pulled themselves up onto the ledge, with even more urgency than the Goblin before him had, but Beam was ready for it. As soon as the hand grabbed onto the ledge, Beam''s knife shed and severed it at the wrist.


    The Goblin squealed and fell back onto the log, allowing itsrade to overtake it. The second Goblin leapt atop the body of the first, using it as a springboard as it cleared the river bank without needing to climb it.


    It sailed through the air andnded with a roll. Beam grit his teeth, knowing that this would likely be his hardest opponent yet, now that he was tired and the Goblin knew what he was capable of. His only saving grace was that the creature no longer had a weapon ¨C but if anything, that only served in the beast''s favour, as its confusion was erased with the choice between a spear and a bite ceasing to exist.


    Beam initiated the attack this time, knowing that with every passing moment, his position grew more precarious. He had to finish this here and now if he wanted any hope at victory.


    He moved quickly, despite his fatigue, and pushed the Goblin back towards the river, making it fight with that danger at its back. Then he circled it, trying to narrow the creature''s options. But as evidenced by its fight with the bear ¨C these little brutes were masters at evasion, if they chose to do so.


    As Beam came in close, the Goblin side stepped and leapt as if to move behind him, but that was where Beam''s knife was lying in wait. He''d created the opening purposefully, luring the Goblin into a position where it could no longer defend itself ¨C the same strategy he had used to defeat all the rest.


    This one was a little more nimble in its avoidance of his de, but he still managed to deliver a massive sh along the length of the creature''s back as it twisted to avoid the blow. It hissed in pain and backed away from him.


    Beam cursed, having not been able to secure the kill. The other Goblin climbed up to join its brethren, blood pouring from its wrist where Beam had severed its hand. Both creatures were dripping green blood, but the hatred in their eyes still had not dulled. This was where Goblins were most dangerous, Beam knew. Their group fighting strength whenpared to their individual might was truly exceptional.

 Chapter 50: Battle With The Goblins - Part 16

    <h4>Chapter 50: Battle With The Goblins - Part 16</h4>


    Beam''s eyes widened with caution as he sought to keep both creatures within his field of view. He blocked out all other distractions as he did. There was a light rustling in the trees behind him ¨C he ignored it, knowing that to take his eyes off the speedy Goblins for a single second would be fatal.


    "So that''s it, atst," Dominus said with a sigh. "The boy is more dangerous than I could ever imagine."


    As the boy fought, Dominus saw a zing fire within him. A depth of such overwhelming potential that even he, in the fifth boundary, feared he would burn his fingers. "Fuelled by suc suffering," Dominus murmured. The progress within him was desperate to burst forth. Now that udiatched onto Beam''s soul as well, it poured out of him. It was not a seesaw at all, it was a furious battle between three souls for Dominus.


    And Beam couldn''t resist it as well as he used to. Progress poured four. Ingolsol manifested himself, as did udia. They were that which held back his de. They took control for small instants at a time, slowing Beam''s de and dulling his movements.


    Now that Beam was tiring, his resistance to the curses as lessening and his movements grew more impressive. "Yet there''s so much more," Dominus realized. "This is a mere candle me to a forest fire. Both udia and Ingolsol, he''s resisting them both, and has his progress grows, his resistance lessens."


    The danger was immense. There was no bnce to be had from the start. Beam''s own soul had realized that. It merely feigned bnce for all those years, allowing the curse movement in his weakest moments ¨C but the true path is sought was subordination. It sought to make the curse kneel and obey.


    "The only path forward for you, boy, is integration," Dominus realized, a sinking feeling in his chest. But to do that without losing himself? To subordinate the will of two Gods, both light and dark. Could anyone do that? Dominus shook his head, knowing such a thing to be impossible.


    "But if he truly does do it¡­" Dominus murmured, feeling chills go down his spine. At merely the Second Boundary, Beam''s potential was that of someone who was in the third. It was a frightening prospect.


    The Goblins moved as though as one. One circled to his left, the other circled to his right, making him fight on two fronts at once.


    Beam knew he wouldn''t have many opportunities left to grab victory. Like the mother bear, as soon as his speed started to slow, the Goblins would pick him apart with relentless uracy, despite their own significant wounds.


    As Beam turned his back on one Goblin so that he might face the other, he gritted his teeth in annoyance. In the heat of the moment, he knew no other way to beat them than to dare to use the same tactic he''d used against them multiple times already. He feigned weakness, by exposing his back as he did, tempting the Goblin to attack.


    And attack the Goblin did. The creature''s fury with humanity was so great, that all logic faded as soon as it was given the opportunity to attack. Just as its brethren did before it, it rushed in, its jaws wide, attempting to bite the back of Beam''s neck.


    Beam moved efficiently, having got a sense for the Goblin''s movements by now and having grown used to wielding the knife a little bit more, hended a graceful sh to sever the leaping Goblin''s throat, before dodging to the side to allow the corpse tond harmlessly beyond him.


    He had no chance for respite though, for the one-handed Goblin attacked immediately after, sensing Beam''s weakness as he devoted his attention elsewhere, but Beam was ready for this one too. He put the fist of his free hand deep into his face to stun the creature and send it flying. A hurried sprint after it and Beam pinned the creature down with a foot on its face, keeping its jaw closed, so that he could bury his knife through its eye.


    "Heh¡­" he said, copsing to one knee, daring to breathe a sigh of relief, a victory smile upon his face.


    "FOOL!" He heard someone shout.


    "Eh?" Beam looked behind him, in the direction of the voice, but there was no one there.


    Suddenly, he felt his vision darken as a shadow from above blocked out the light of the sun. "Shit¡­" Beam cursed, seeing a creature the size of a man muscled to the point of ridiculousness bearing down on him with a massive sword.


    Beam only had enough time to put his knife up in a pathetic attempt at a block before a ridiculous steel sword ttered into him, snapping his knife in half, breathing through his guard and bearing down upon his shoulder.


    Blood spilt from Beam''s open wound, sttering the face of the malicious creature in front of him, as its green face twisted in a malicious grin.


    Then there was another sh, as a second set of steel met the creature''s sword, somehow severing it, sending a huge chunk of steel floating through the air, heading straight for Beam, before some force or other battered it away and sent it flying.


    "Eh?" Beam asked, his eyes wide, unable to process what had happened.


    There was a shallow wound on his shoulder, where the creature''s sword had broken through his guard. But surely, at that rate, continuing as it was, it should have severed him in two?


    Yet instead, it was the creature that had met that very same fate. From shoulder to hip, it was cleaved perfectly in half. It murmured quietly as the dark green blood flowed from its massive wound and it slowly died.


    "Master?" Beam guessed, seeing a man standing in front of the dying monster, a beautiful sword in his hand ¨C Beam had never seen it before. It was long, just like the longswords he''d seen knights wear, but maybe a few fingers shorter. And this one had a gentle curve along its length, making it the first time Beam had seen a sword like it.


    Dominus turned to him, more fury on his face than Beam had ever seen. Beam took a step back despite himself as his master strode towards him.


    "Idiot!" Dominus scolded, pping his cheek. "What good is there in fulfilling such a minor quest if you leave your back open to greater danger?"


    "Sorry¡­" Beam said on instinct, without quite understanding what was going on. He''d thought he''d done everything he could, but judging from his master''s anger, that must not have been the case.


    "You should have been able to sense that," Dominus spat, "even as inexperienced and unskilled as you are, the creature was radiating bloodlust, yet you ignored it. You''re a waste of my time. What good is an apprentice so set on dying?"


    Dominus was truly angry ¨C just when he''d seen the true nature of Beam''s potential, the boy revealed a fatal weakness. What good was talent in death?


    "I''m sorry master¡­" Beam said again, struggling to hide his frustration, still not getting quite why his master was so angry. "I really didn''t see it. What even is it?"


    Dominus looked at him for a few long seconds and then he let out a deep sigh. "Hah¡­" With that sigh, the old knight seemed to regain his calm. "What a bloody problem I''ve got saddled with," he groaned, sheathing his sword and covering his eyes with a hand.


    "I really don''t get what I did wrong," Beam said honestly, now that he''d calmed down.


    Dominus'' eyes shed, his anger returning for a moment. "You were a millisecond away from death ¨C that''s what you did wrong. Do you not see that sword wound against your shoulder? You focused too much on what was in front of you and neglected your surroundings, letting a damned Hobgoblin sneak up on you," Dominus said, pointing at the corpse that he''d killed.


    It looked truly horrifying now that Beam looked at it. As though all the weaknesses of a Goblin had been corrected, to make something about the height of a man, but with far more muscle than any man could hope to support and long fangs that crept out of his mouth.


    "Oh damn it," Dominus said, shaking his head. "Wipe that meek look off your face, you idiot. I get it. Yes. Fine. I''m not going to shout at you anymore."


    "A Hobgoblin?" Beam murmured, horrified. "It looks really strong."


    "It is, for the average person," Dominus agreed. "Another bit ofcking information from that bastard Greeves. There''s probably no one in that entire vige that could survive a battle with a Hobgoblin on equal terms, apart from Judas, perhaps. And this one here even managed to rob a sword from somewhere. With basically none of the vigers having swords of their own, this bastard would have caused serious problems down the line if we hadn''t dealt with it here."


    Beam was surprised to hear that. And even more surprised to hear that Judas was capable of fighting it. "Is Judas that strong?"


    Dominus shrugged. "He has very little skill, but he''s a physical phenom. The difference between him and Perth is almost unfair¡­ Oh and here are your trophies," he said, disappearing for a moment, before returning with 5 severed Goblin heads that he threw at his feet.


    "Oh. Thanks," Beam nodded, pleased that he didn''t have to collect them himself ¨C not that he could with the one that had fallen into the river ¨C but without the energy to give a proper response.


    "¡­I suppose I can say you did good," Dominus started lightly. "For as little training as you''ve had and your skill level, to defeat the Goblins so thoroughly ¨C I was quite impressed¡­ That was until thisst blunder. I don''t care how inexperienced you are, how poor you are with a sword ¨C the most important skill you can have is to keep yourself alive, so that you can get stronger and live to fight the battle another day. I think most apprentices, even those of your level, they would have noticed that Hobgoblin approaching and had the sense to run."


    Beam paled at that, after learning that he was seemingly worse than most people. "I really didn''t sense it at all¡­" he murmured again.


    Dominus scratched his head at that, aplicated expression on his face. "So you keep saying. It seems like you have another peculiar trait, one that could be a blessing or a curse, depending on how long you live for. Hyperfocus, or something of the like. It allowed you to make short work of thosest two Goblins, but made you blind to the world around you¡­ mm, we''re going to have to work on that."


    Whilst that was a thing, Dominus figured the true naturey elsewhere. The boy had to retain such an intense focus so that he might keep the curses at bay, whilst at the same time allowing some of his own potential to leak out, so that he could fight.


    He dared not tell Beam this yet though. He knew the information would only harm his progress. If he intentionally attempted to influence the bnce of his soul, it would lead to catastrophe. The only hope for Beamy in figuring out the need for integration himself. He had to feel it within his soul, not within his mind. Only then would his soul be prepared enough to subordinate such mighty essences ¨C even then, the chances were unlikely.


    Beam nodded in agreement. He was thoroughly exhausted now, swaying back and forth on his feet as he fought to stay upright. He wanted nothing more than to curl up in bed and sleep for a few weeks.


    Seeing that, Dominus sighed again. "Hah¡­ Well, I suppose we''d better get you back and get those wounds seen to."

 Chapter 51: The Village Elder - Part 1

    <h4>Chapter 51: The Vige Elder - Part 1</h4>


    Chapter 6 ¨C The Vige Elder


    The next day, Beam woke with a start, hearing the forest birds begin their dawn song. He sat upright in panic and looked around, wondering where he was. Breathing a sigh of relief, he recognized Dominus'' hut and the surrounding area that he was beginning to grow familiar with.


    The events of yesterday came flooding back, and he had to hold a hand to his throbbing head in an attempt to process them. He sat there, shirtless, the wounds from yesterday cleaned andced with honey to keep out infection. Dominus had made him clean his filthy shirt, saying that wearing that over the top of fresh wounds would only make things worse.


    He''d been lucky in the end, despite his numerous injuries. The bite to his shoulder hadn''t been that deep, even if it was the most unsightly of the injuries, with a fewyers of skin missing.


    The wound from the sword hadn''t ended up being too bad either. It was a long wound, but it was shallow, only slightly deeper than the bite. Then there were the scratches on his forearm and ears too. All of them had managed to escape the need for stitches, but only barely. Dominus was keeping a close eye on them to make sure they didn''t get infected.


    "Ah, finally up then, are we?" Dominus asked from his position by the fire, already nursing a cup of tea. "Feeling better after your sleep?"


    Beam nodded with a yawn. "I guess yesterday really was real after all, huh?" Beam said. In truth, it was likely the most exciting thing he''d ever achieved - and by his own merit too. Of course, his master had saved his life at the end, but as Dominus had told him when they got back yesterday, ''youpleted the quest by yourself ¨C take pride in that. The matter with the Hobgoblin is something else entirely. Even if you''d had the sense to notice it was there, you would not have been able to defeat it ¨C the best you could have done was run to safety.''


    "I should hope so," Dominus said, "otherwise we''re both going mad. And just as it is real, the decisions made yesterday will be stuck to. It''s be clear to me that there is far more room for me to push you in your swordsmanship and weapons training. You have quite a few more monster-hunting quests ¨C and I would see that you improve before you attempt the next of them."


    "What about Hobgoblins?" Beam asked. He couldn''t quite get the creature off his mind, for it had been a stain on his otherwise near-perfect victory yesterday and the fact of his defeat to it ate at him far more than he knew it should. "Will I be seeing any more of those on the next few quests?"


    "Doubtful," Dominus told him. "HobGoblins are rare beasts. To get one, a pregnant Goblin female needs to be fed a ridiculous quantity of quality food over the course of the pregnancy, and it''s rather rare for Goblin nests to hunt sessfully enough to be able to do that. I went to destroy the nest, whilst you were busy killing the hunting party and I couldn''t find any signs of a second one. But, it''s certainly worth keeping an eye out for them."


    "Should that be my swordsmanship test?" Beam asked.


    "Should what?"


    "Well, you''ve said I need to beat Perth and his two friends in a fight to pass my fighting test at the end of the month ¨C what about my swordsmanship test? Should it be defeating a Hobgoblin?" Beam asked.


    Dominus'' eyes widened in surprise. The tests weren''t designed to be fun, after all. So, to intentionally suggest a test that he knew would be so extraordinarily difficult, that went a long way in demonstrating the true nature of Beam''s personality. Dominusughed. "Hah! You still absolutely despise losing, don''t yad? Like I said before, that''s not a trait that I hate. It''s necessary if you want to stand amongst the best of them, and essential if you want to achieve what no one else has, but, don''t go sprinting to an early death just yet. I know I''m setting you hard tests, but going from struggling with one or two Goblins to defeating a Hobgoblin in the space of a few short weeks would be unreasonable. Naw... Let''s avoid that. Instead¡­ Mm¡­ Why don''t we keep the Corpse Soldier as your test?"


    Beam frowned, more than a little disappointed that his chance to take his vengeance had escaped. "But they''re weaker than Hobgoblins, right?"


    "Oh, yes, they''re weaker, but they''re certainly not weak¡­ Let''s see, how do I put it in terms that you can understand? Defeating a corpse soldier would mean you''re strong enough to face 5 Goblins at once without needing to split them up."


    "5 GOBLINS?" Beam blurted, hardly able to believe it. He knew just how strong Goblins were. With each additional Goblin, it was like the strength of the group doubled every single time. 5 Goblins at once was almost iparable to 2.


    Dominus nodded seriously. "They may be called Corpse Soldiers, but their strength is very different from how the soldier was in life. About 1 in 50 soldiers on a battlefield will get inflicted with the Goddess'' curse and resurrect as a corpse soldier. Their physical abilities are augmented upon resurrection. They''re faster and stronger than they were in life. But then, only soldiers or people of a somewhat low level can fall prey to the Goddess'' curse, so their strength level bnces out and as such they''re fairly consistently at the strength of about five Goblins working together."

 Chapter 52: The Village Elder - Part 2

    <h4>Chapter 52: The Vige Elder - Part 2</h4>


    "Wow¡­" Beam had to gulp as he considered it. And then Hobgoblins were even stronger than that? It seemed it really would be a mistake to go after them straight away, if their difference in strength was that vast. But still, he wasn''t entirely satisfied, but at least a difficult opponent like the corpse soldier created something for him to aim for as he trained. "I''m really going to need to get better, then."


    "That you are," Dominus agreed. "With that, more of your training is going to be dedicated to the martial movements, since your body in its strength and speed is already progressing as it should be."


    Beam clenched his fist. He could hardly wait. He had more opportunities to test his worth. There were two more Goblin quests, a giant spider quest and a corpse soldier quest on top of that. Even though the situation with Greeves was irritating, in the end, the quests themselves provided such an abundance of opportunity that he suddenly found himself feeling grateful.


    "Still, you''ve got to get your standing amongst the vigers improved and you''ve got to make some allies there ¨C there''s not much sign of that yet. But perhaps with these winter firewood quests and the food one, perhaps they''ll give you an opportunity to work on that. I think, in my humble opinion, if you wish to pass that element of the test by the end of the month, you''d better get started on it now," Dominus suggested.


    He definitely didn''t like to hear it and he definitely hated the prospect of attempting to be friendly with more people that he viewed essentially as strangers, but Beam knew his master was right and he gritted his teeth, preparing himself mentally to get the matter resolved.


    "As for your training today¡­ since you''re injured, and you had such a hard day yesterday, I should possibly make allowances," Dominus mused, "we wouldn''t want your wounds to worsen."


    "No, I''m feeling fine," Beam assured him, standing up quickly and wincing from the pain. Dominus looked at him doubtfully. "¡­I mean, not fine, but I want to make sure I keep up with everything. This might be one of those days where my strength is set to improve, right? ''Cos it doesn''t always make sense, does it, as you were saying?"


    Dominus tilted his head at that and considered it. "It''s certainly possible," he decided. "But you''re going to need to wander into town afterwards and deliver those Goblin heads to Greeves, so don''t wear yourself out too much¡­ Oh, and also, you''re going to need to get me a new knife, since you shattered thest one."


    Beam flinched at that. "¡­But I''m only going to be getting 5 coppers," he said weakly, knowing that such an amount was far from enough to secure a new knife, especially in this town, with just a single smith and with there being such a shortage of irontely.


    But Dominus was undeterred. "I have a feeling that if you offer those five Goblin heads up for a trade, he might be able to find you an old knife that you can sharpen yourself. Those monster ingredients are worth quite a bit more than he''s letting on."


    "I''ll try," Beam said meekly, not relishing the thought of negotiating with Greeves once again. But it had been his fault that Dominus'' dagger broke, after all, so he was determined to at least fix it in some sort of way.


    ¡­


    ¡­


    It was past noon by the time Beam wandered into the marketce, carrying an empty grain sack, filled with the 5 Goblin heads that he himself had in. Most of the blood had already drained out of the heads overnight, but there was still a patch of green staining the bottom of his grain sack, causing people to shoot him strange looks as he walked through town.


    But Beam was feeling particrly confident that morning, for not only had he just in 5 Goblins the day before ¨C a feat that most men wouldn''t aplish in their entire lifetime ¨C but his strength had also seemingly returned, for on the second stone that day, he again managed to match his all-time record of 20 lifts. And then on the third stone, he set a new record of 11. He''d felt that he could have done far more, but with his wounds bothering him, he didn''t want to go all out.


    Of course, as with all things, nothing was quite perfect and though he''d seeded in improving his strength slightly despite the injuries, his speed had beenckingpared to previous days. It wasn''t quite as bad as it was on his worst days, but it was still a noticeable decrease from how it had been yesterday.


    Still, that wasn''t enough to put Beam into a bad mood. He was growing used to the strange setbacks that often arose in his training and he was satisfied as long as he was improving in some sort of way.


    He strolled through the marketce, daring to observe the stall owners as he passed, wondering what wares they were selling. Mainly, he was interested to see if any of them were selling knives.


    But what he saw mostly was meat and furs being hawked on behalf of hunters and farmers. There were a few clothes stalls too, selling fur coats and hats in preparation for the winter. They caught Beam''s eye as he realized he would soon be in quite desperate need of some himself.


    He figured that his master would probably tell him off if he didn''t get his clothing situation sorted, so he resolved to do that as soon as possible, lest hee down with a cold and it affect his training.

 Chapter 53: The Village Elder - Part 3

    <h4>Chapter 53: The Vige Elder - Part 3</h4>


    Even as he walked under the autumn sun, he was still beginning to feel somewhat chilly in his thin and thread-bear woollen shirt.


    He paused in front of Greeves'' house, his bag of Goblin skulls in hand, making his shoulder ache from the sheer weight of them. He drew in a deep breath to calm himself before knocking loudly and firmly.


    Judas answered nearly immediately. He was so quick that Beam guessed it was the big man''s job to keep an eye on the door.


    For some reason, Judas looked surprised to see him. As the door swung open and he stood there, his eyes widened slightly. He nced at the grain sack that Beam was holding. "¡­I heard you took a Goblin quest yesterday. That true?" He asked.


    Beam had to fight back the urge to ignore him and simply tell him to get his boss. "¡­I did," he said in response, after a significant effort.


    "Heh, and you''re here ''cos you managed it? Or because you''re reconsidering?" Judas asked.


    "Just get your boss," Beam said, his impatience taking over this time, not liking the mocking look in Judas'' eye.


    The big man shrugged. "On you, I guess. I''ll fetch him, but lemme warn ya, if you haven''t got anything good to show him, you''re gonna piss him off."


    He disappeared into the house and appeared with Greeves a momentter. Beam could almost smell the merchant before he could see him. There was a strong reek of alcohol in the air as the merchant stood there, again in a dressing robe with his chest bare, only instead of gold, this robe was red.


    "Oh, there he is," Greeves said irritably. Beam could tell from the squint of his eyes that the man was quite hungover.


    "I guess you hadn''t nned to do any business today?" Beam asked, wrinkling his nose.


    Greeves tutted in annoyance. "Careful, you little shit. We''re not friends. Disrespect me too often and this transaction will fall through." He noticed the grain sack that Beam was holding and nodded at it. "So, what you got in there for me?" He reached to take it off him.


    Beam pulled the sack away, not allowing the merchant to take it just yet. "Five Goblins'' skulls," he said, reaching into the bag to pull one out to prove his point.


    He heard a sharp intake of breath from Judas as he looked over his boss'' shoulder. The merchant and his minion shared a nce. One that contained all of their surprise.


    Greeves broke out into the widest smile Beam had ever seen from a creature. Frankly, he found it horrifying. It was so wide it looked like it was wrestling to take over his face as he shed thoserge white teeth of his. He pped his hairy hands together as heughed. "My oh my, have we ever discovered a little treasure here, eh, Judas?" He held his hand out for the Goblin''s head. "I sense your distrust, boy, but allow me to examine the product before we proceed any further."


    Beam frowned irritatedly, but he didn''t see any way past it and he tossed the skull through the air towards the merchants. Greeves caught it, not seeming to mind the impolite gesture. "Oh yes, that is flesh for sure. And these here are quality materials. A fresh corpse. in only yesterday." Greeves handed it off to Judas to see if he had anything to add. Beam assumed from that gesture that it was likely Judas had some Goblin-hunting experience himself.


    "Yeah, that''s the real deal alright," Judas said, before ncing at Beam, narrowing his eyes in suspicion. "Just how did you manage to get five of them, anyway? Even I''d struggle to fight five Goblins at once, if I was alone."


    Beam merely shrugged. "Then don''t fight them all at once."


    Greeves raised his eyebrow at that and looked to Judas, beforeughing. "Hahah! He''s got you there, you oaf. Mm. I don''t particrly care what strategy you used to get your sess boy, what I care about is the results and you have indeed delivered. I like that. I like people like you, people who get things done. I think we''re going to get on very well, that I do."


    Despite his hangover and the grumpiness with which he''de to the door, the merchant''s mood had improved considerably and so Beam dared to push towards business.


    "Like I said, I have five Goblin skulls and they''re yours. I''m happy for my payment to be 5 copper coins, as agreed. However, I would like to make a trade in return for the monster materials."


    Greeves'' smile faded at that and his eyes shed warily. "A trade is it?" he murmured. "Well, what do you want?"


    "My knife broke fighting the Goblins," Beam told him, "I want to trade for a new one."


    Greeves paused at that, before he guffawed and broke back into a smile. "Ah, is that all? Well, we can''t have our little monster hunter be without equipment. Agreed. I have a few old knives that I do not mind trading you ¨C but just this one time, mind you. For this exchange puts me somewhat out of pocket. Judas, bring him some of the older daggers to look at."


    Beam smiled internally. It seemed his master had the right of it, for Greeves had shown no resistance at all in trading for the knife. It must have been true that monster materials sold for far more than he was letting on. But also, he supposed it was likely true that Greeves got his knives for far cheaper, being a merchant as he was. He likely bought them from elsewhere, for in Solgrim they were far too expensive.


    As they waited for Greeves, Judas reached into his robe and withdrew a small coin pouch. From within, he counted five coppers and held them out to Beam. "For a job well done," he said. Beam received them in his palm and clenched them into his fist, enjoying the feel of the cool metal.

 Chapter 54: The Village Elder - Part 4

    <h4>Chapter 54: The Vige Elder - Part 4</h4>


    "Will you be moving onto the rest of the monster-ying jobs straight away, then?" Greeves asked. "Since you seemingly have a talent for them. Or are you going to take a break? You got thatst one done in a matter of hours, after all, it seems. I only gave it to you yesterday. Quite the eager thing, aren''t ya?"


    Beam shrugged. "I want to get them done as quick as I can. But I guess I''ll probably go with the firewood or food jobs next¡­ Just to get them out the way."


    Greeves nodded in agreement. "A wise choice, very wise indeed. Those jobs will be taking far longer. Maybe a week each for both, if you''re lucky. But of course, they''re the type of jobs you can get done whilst you''re doing other things, can''t you, mm? Well, I suppose if you''re up for that, I can introduce you to the vige Elder and have him show you what you need to be doing."


    "The vige Elder?" Beam muttered. He didn''t like the sound of that. He was hoping for something rtively straightforward.


    Greevesughed at the expression on his face. "Hah! You''re about the only person in this town that would sooner deal with Goblins than people. Can''t say I understand that feeling." Judas appeared behind him with three des as heughed. Greeves noticed him and motioned with his head for him to go forward. "Go on then, show the boy his knives."


    With a grunt, Judas marched down the front doorstep of Greeves'' houses and stood towering next to Beam, dangling three daggers in front of him. "Was all I could find. None of em'' are razor sharp, but it''s nothin'' that can''t be fixed with a little bit of attention. Well, which one do you want?"


    Beam looked at them with a frown. There wasn''t really much choice, not for his purposes. There were all roughly the same length, but that was where their simrities ended. One was a chunky-looking hunter''s knife that looked far too heavy for Beam''s purposes ¨C better suited for hacking meat off the bone than anything else.


    The other was a straight and thin dagger. Beam guessed it could probably deal a devastating thrust, but with how thin it was, it looked far too weak. Beam didn''t want to buy one only for it to break again.


    The third was a little better. It had a leather sheath whereas the one his master had lent him had a wooden one, and the de was nicked in more ces than one, but apart from that, it had about everything Beam could ask for. It was thicker than the thin one ¨C but not as heavy as the hunting knife ¨C and there was a slight curve to it too that made it look like it''d be good for shing, which wouldplement his reverse grip use of it perfectly.


    He thought his master would probably like it too, because despite the de being a bit worn, the handle and sheath appeared well taken care of, and it somehow reminded Beam of the sword that he''d seen him wield.


    "I''ll take the third one," he decided, offering up his sack of Goblin heads to Greeves in exchange.


    "Thank you kindly," Greeves said, and Judas handed Beam his new dagger. He peeked inside the bag to see if everything was there, then nodded twice in approval. "Good, good. So you want to get started on the firewood then, do ya? Judas, take thed to see the old man."


    "The Elder?" Judas asked.


    "Yeah, that fuck. Try not to be too polite with him ¨C that old man has been torturing me almost as much as Ferdinandtely¡­ Well,e and see me when you next want to do a quest," Greeves said to Beam, before disappearing back inside the house.


    A sigh came from Judas once he was gone. "Fuck¡­ The Elder is a real pain in the arse. Thanks for getting me dragged into this, you prick."


    There was just a shrug from Beam in response. "Well, since you hate him so much, I''ll make sure to keep you stuck around there a while."


    "Woah, woah, I''m not joking y''know,d? Don''t fuckin'' rope me into shit with the Elder. I''m serious. I know we ain''t exactly pals, but you don''t fuck around with the Elder, trust me. That''s justmon decency," Judas said, surprising Beam with his seriousness.


    Beam looked at him carefully to check whether he was being made fun of, as the two of them crossed the square together and began walking back down the road, as if to leave the town for the forest. "Is he really that bad?"


    "You''ll find out," Judas assured him. "Tell you what though, I wouldn''t do the job you''re doing ¨C not even for 5 gold. The Elder''s just that much of a pain in the arse. Gods. Every winter I pray the cold takes the fucker, but somehow, even at eighty, he''s still kicking. There''s no justice, I tell ya."


    Whilst finding it odd to be in a nearly friendly conversation with Judas, Beam found himself growing increasingly more wary of this Elder character. What exactly was wrong with him that he had both Judas and Greeves so repulsed?


    And so continued their wandering, until they were just a little ways out of the vige. And then, along a dirt path, they went eastwards, towards a lone single-story long house with a thatched roof and white-washed walls ¨C fittingly high status for the vige Elder, or so Beam thought.


    Outside of it, Beam noted Judas'' hesitation before he knocked. The big man seemed almost scared. But finally, he summoned the courage and bashed on the dark wooden door with its ck iron hinges.


    It opened almost creepily fast. It was practically instantaneous. Whereas there had been a clear pause when Judas had opened the door for Beam earlier ¨C despite it being quick ¨C this here was something different entirely. It was less a reaction to the knock, and more a prediction, as though they''d been waiting exactly for that moment.

 Chapter 55: The Village Elder - Part 5

    <h4>Chapter 55: The Vige Elder - Part 5</h4>


    A gloomy woman wearing hooded robes answered the door. "¡­Can I help you?" She asked quietly in a voice that was hardly above a whisper. It was the same woman that he''d seen before in the forest. He had to fight the urge to step back out of fear.


    Judas was freaking out already, it seemed, for he stammered his reply. "T-the boy here''s for the Elder. To uh, to help with firewood."


    Beam looked at the woman again. She wasn''t exactly pretty. Well, she wasn''t ugly either. From her long dark hair and the perfect symmetry of her pale face, it seemed as though she should be a beauty, but there was an instinctual reaction to her gloominess that made the eyes not register her as such.


    She nodded slowly at Judas'' reply, as though understanding took a while. "¡­I will get the master, then," she said, before drifting back inside the house ¨C a house which seemed to be pervaded by an unusual darkness.


    "...This ce is pretty creepy," Beam acknowledged quietly.


    "Right? But it''s more than just being creepy¡­ Well, I guess you''ll find out," Judas said.


    "What was that?" A voice asked from behind them, making both of them jump.


    Beam turned his head like an owl, only to see a crooked old man standing directly behind him, a terrible smile on his wrinkled face as he stood stooped over, clutching his staff.


    Beam looked from the old man, back to the house again, squinting with one eye. ''The attendant said she was getting her master¡­ right?'' He thought to himself. From what she said, and the fact that she''d moved back inside the house, he''d assumed the Elder would indeed be inside the house. That was the most logical conclusion. And yet here he was, directly behind them, atop the narrow path that they had used to get here, with another attendant by his side.


    In fact, upon closer inspection, Beam swore it was the exact same attendant as before. "¡­How the hell did she..?" He murmured, looking at the gloomy young woman, as she stared back at him with a puzzled expression on her face, as though not understanding his confusion.


    "Ahhh. It would seem you must have met my other servant. Yesssss¡­ They''re twins, you see. It always gets everyone a little riled up at first," the Elder exined in an unusually animated voice, stroking his white beard as he looked at Beam with interest. "I''ve been wondering when I might finally get the chance to speak to you, youngling. Mmmm, yes, indeed. I''ve always found you to be quite the curiosity. And now here you are, sent by Greeves of all people. How strange is this wonderful little world of ours?"


    "¡­Quite strange," Beam agreed, feeling thoroughly ufortable.


    "Well, let us not stand on ceremony. One, tell your sister to get some tea prepared for our guests," the Elder said.


    "Yes, master," thedy said, drifting on ahead with the bottom of her dark dress trailing along the floor behind her.


    Again Beam squinted. He could have sworn the old man had called her One. He shared a nce with Judas, feeling a strangeradery with a man that he otherwise rather disliked.


    "W-well, I''ve done my bit, I''ll be going then," Judas said nervously. Instantly killing that friendly feeling Beam had begun to feel towards him. Beam twisted his face in annoyance and turned away from him.


    "Yes, yes, your purpose has been served," the Elder said, without taking his eyes off Beam. It seemed to Beam, that what he said and what he meant were rather different. It was thoroughly unnerving being in his presence.


    Judas didn''t throw away his opportunity to escape. He immediately began striding away, without even looking back. As soon as he got out of sight, Beam wouldn''t have been surprised had he started running.


    The boy sighed, already disliking the situation he was finding himself in. First Goblins, and now ghoulish old men.


    "Come," the Elder told him, motioning with a finger as he shuffled along towards his house, leaning heavily on his staff, tapping it against the hard ground with every step that he took.


    The door was left wide open, revealing a darkness that seemed imprable. Beam let the Elder go ahead of him, then he marched slowly up the two stone steps of the door after him.


    Once he was inside, the door swung shut behind him, seemingly with a mind of its own, and the room was drenched in darkness. There were a few awkward moments where Beam stood there frozen, unable to see a thing, as fear threatened to rise its way to the surface. And then there was a spark, as a candle was lit, and finally, he could see once more.


    The two serving girls ¨C now that Beam could see them together, he could tell that they were indeed twins ¨C went around lighting the candles set along the walls of the main room, casting everything in a dim glow.


    Beam still stood by the door, on guard, as he looked around. There were the ashes of a firepit in the centre of the room, and then, there were far too many tables. For a man with two servants, somehow the ce still seemed tock any order. Candles and melted wax were everywhere, as were sheets of dark paper, scrolls, and intimidating-looking leather-bound books.


    "Come, do sit," the Elder gestured towards one of the only two seats in the entire room ¨C a wooden chair with deer fur strung over it. Beam moved towards it, spying a deer''s head fastened to the wall, wondering if both the fur of the chair and the head came from the same animal.

 Chapter 56: The Village Elder - Part 6

    <h4>Chapter 56: The Vige Elder - Part 6</h4>


    Still looking around the room suspiciously, Beam sat. One of the serving girls dragged a chair in front of him a momentter and the Elder sat on that too, letting out a loud sigh of relief, that was soon reced by a smile as he continued to stare at Beam without even blinking.


    "¡­So, I''m here about the firewood for the vigers," Beam said, coughing, trying to get things moving.


    "Ah, yes," the Elder said with a slow nod, as though they had all the time in the world. "Two, is our tea ready yet?" He called out.


    Just as he spoke, one of the women came bearing a tray with a steaming teapot and two small cups. Beam squinted one eye, fairly sure by now that the Elder was calling his servants ''One'' and ''Two''.


    "There you are, do drink," the Elder said, handing Beam a teacup with old shaking hands. It was only then that Beam saw just how massive the Elder''s hands were. They were more than double the size of Beam''s, with long thin fingers attached to them.


    Beam took the cup off him and sniffed the liquid cautiously, deciding not to drink it quite yet. He watched the Elder take a sip of his first.


    "I''m d to see you making more of an attempt to enter our fold. Oh, it is indeed a sad day when a stranger does not learn to be friend with the vige. It had been so long too ¨C I thought that you''d stay stuck in your ways forever. It was such a shame. But now, here you are, a transformed person, hmm? Isn''t that just wonderfully alchemical? Just so transformative and inspiring." He licked his dry, revealing a mouth that was near toothless.


    "Ah, forgive me ¨C my mind does drift. Fire¡­ Firewood. Indeed. Yes, yes. Winter ising, after all. I can feel it in these old bones, I can. Mmm, what an issue, hmm? There''s certainly a few families that don''t have enough wood to get them through winter. They''ll need to be helped, won''t they? But of course, such is the nature of a healthy and functioning vige," the Elder murmured, sipping at his tea.


    One of his servants handed him a long rolled-up scroll as he murmured to himself. Beam still couldn''t tell them apart, so they may as well have been the same person to him.


    "Well, ording to my list here, there are 13 households that have requested the aid of myself and the Ten Major Families. That''s quite a number of people, mm¡­ Of course we won''t be able to help them all¡­ It simply wouldn''t be good for the vige. We''re going to have to choose¡­ Ah, but some of these already have 10 Favour points that they owe¡­ To stack up any more debt would be beyond them. Ah, such a shame," the Elder said.


    Beam twisted his face at that. There were several terms he didn''t understand in there, one being Favour points. He wasn''t really even sure who the Ten Major Families were, but he knew they had a hand in choosing who the vige Elder would be.


    "I''m under orders to make sure none of them go without. As per Ferdinand''s quest to Greeves," Beam said.


    Somehow, that must have been shocking to the old man, for he pulled back his old neck in a look of condescension. "Well, I''m afraid that simply won''t be possible. Some households refuse to pay their debts ¨C they can''t be given more."


    The Elder tilted his head to the side, afortable smile on his face as he looked deep into Beam''s eyes. And then the Elder tilted his head back the other way, like the pendulum on a clock. His servants hovered behind him. Then, just for an instant, Beam felt his vision begin to blur.


    A wave of repulsion washed over him, as something deep within him rejected the Elder''s gaze. It urged him to urgently look around the room. Beam''s eyes darted here and there, taking more things in, his mind processing things far more erratically than before.


    He noticed the odd ck crystals that sat in a bundle of unwrapped cloth in the corner of the room, as though they had only just been delivered and had yet to be unpacked.


    He noticed the old leather-bound tome next to it, with a symbol etched into its cover ¨C a boar''s head on a pike, with the whole thing enshrouded in me.


    He nced past the soulless faces of the servants and noticed the out-of-ce carpet of the floor and a uniform line across the floorboards, as though they had all been cut together to make way for some sort of underground storage facility.


    Something made Beam''s anger rise. He felt the dark feeling within him that he often got, that he''d grown used to all those years. It was growing stronger these days and harder to control. Beam acknowledged it, but he dared not pay it too much mind. With every bit of progress that he earned, he could feel that dark fire burning within him, growing stronger, hungering for a piece of his soul.


    Next to it, he could feel something else, something opposing it. But both were equally as overwhelming, both made him twist with the revulsion, for they weren''t him. And now, both were calling him to anger.


    Beam''s eyes shed, the golden flecks arose and his jaw tightened as though to growl.


    "Like I said," Beam growled, his eyes shing. "That''s none of my business. Are you saying you''re going to help some of these families, but not the others? Then, to get done what I need to do, will you give me the names of those you won''t help, so that I will?"


    "W-w-what--!" It was a mere sound that came out of the old man''s mouth as Beam''s anger rose and his eyes sparkled with fury. He drew back in his chair with what looked like terror, trembling for a moment.


    His servants seemed to notice that, for they both appeared behind his chair as if out of nowhere and they red at him.

 Chapter 57: The Village Elder - Part 7

    <h4>Chapter 57: The Vige Elder - Part 7</h4>


    A dark aura surrounded the old man as he calmed himself. Shadows danced across his face, cast by the flickering of the candles on the wall. Beam wasn''t sure what it was, but as he looked at the old man then, he felt a terrible feeling of wrongness. He felt a coldness in the air that had no exnation, as though his life was being drained from him. And by that same illusion, it seemed as though the old man was regaining vitality. The wrinkles disappeared from his face and even his hair seemed to be regaining colour.


    Beam stood up in rm, and as soon as the illusion hade, it was gone. It was merely an old man and his two pale servants that he was facing off against. "It seems we are unable to help each other," Beam said, before turning on his heel and heading towards the door.


    He left the house without anyone making a move to stop him. He had to fight with the lock on the door to get it open, but finally it gave and the light of day came and greeted him. He left the house behind without saying another word. He fought to keep his walking normal as he went down the path, despite the slick sweat that had begun to run down his back.


    Only when he was quite sure that they could no longer see him from their position in the house did he slow.


    "What¡ªWhat the fuck was that!?" He almost shouted it, as he leaned his hand against a building to steady himself, feeling sick to the stomach.


    He didn''t understand what he''d seen or felt. He knew there was something about the old man that was off. But it was his own reaction that troubled him just as deeply. There was a sheen of sweat on his forehead and a dizziness assailed him. That feeling that he was losing himself to something stronger than he was ¨C it came back tenfold. He had to fight the urge to vomit.


    It was a thoroughly different kind of oppressive atmosphere than the one Greeves gave off. Greeves seemed a dark merchant and a thoroughly terrible person and he always left Beam on guard, but at least he didn''t make his skin crawl as though thousands of maggots were walking over his body.


    "What the hell is going on here?" Beam muttered, spitting on the ground, trying to rid himself of the sickness. "How is that old man the vige Elder? There''s something wrong with him¡­ I don''t know what it is¡­ But there''s something up."


    He collected his thoughts as he stood there leaning against the side of a house that he didn''t know. He sucked in deep breaths of air trying to steady himself and get rid of the dizziness that had begun to build up.


    "Hah¡­ fuck. How can something as simple as gathering firewood leave me worse off than hunting Goblins?" He muttered to himself, deciding to finally make a move somewhere. He felt like going straight back into the forest to speak to his master about what had happened, but his feet directed him back towards Greeves'' ce, knowing that he had to at least attempt to resolve the firewood issue before he left for the day.


    As he made it back through the market square and hammered on Greeves'' door, it took a little while for anyone to answer, as though they were out.


    Beam hammered on the door again, before waiting, about to leave, assuming that no one was in.


    But it was then that Judas chose to open the door. The big man didn''t seem surprised to see him. He must have been able to guess somewhat what had happened from the look on Beam''s face, for he nodded with something that approached sympathy. "Gave you a rough time of it, did he?"


    "You could say that," Beam shrugged.


    "You want toe in? The boss is asking after you," Judas said, motioning with his head for him toe inside.


    Beam sighed, looking into the house. It definitely looked quite uninviting, but after being inside the Elder''s house, nothing couldpare. He nodded with less reluctance than he otherwise might and strode up the steps as Judas held the door open for him.


    The big manughed as he closed the door behind him. "He really did get to ya, huh? You''re normally a suspicious little fuck, but now you''vee in withoutining."


    Beam just shrugged and gave a tired smile. "I think if I was gonna die today, I''d probably have died back there. I''ll take my chances."


    "That''s the right attitude. Come on then," Judas said, leading him deeper into the house. Past the front door, there was immediately a long corridor of wood-varnished floorboards that led straight on to a winding wooden staircase that led up to the second floor. But Judas took him to the right, through one of the open doorways.


    They marched through a room with shining leather chairs, a roaring fire, and a massive table in the middle of it all. It stank of purple mountain grass, but with the light of the day streaming in through the open shutters, it was so much more inviting than the Elder''s ce had been.


    Beyond that, they turned left again and Judas opened a door to take him into where Greeves was waiting.


    It was a smaller room, with a desk piled high with various scrolls and an abacus beside it and another small fire warming the hearth.


    Greeves stood up as he came in, a smile on his face. "There he is ¨C our little prot¨¦g¨¦. Go on thend, get yourself a nice seat by the fire, see if you can warm those demons out of you, eh?"


    Beam did as he was told. Even if it was forced and calcted, after the unsettling situation with the Elder, a bit of hospitality went a long way.


    Greeves sat down back at his desk and began packing his pipe with more purple mountain grass as he talked. "So, I can assume it went poorly?"


    "You expected it to?" Beam asked.


    Greeves shrugged. "More or less. He''s irritating to deal with at the best of times, but when ites to vige charity, he gets especially fuckin'' weird. Dunno what it is, ''cos I couldn''t give a fuck about doing charity work normally, but I do recall several incidents where he''s got pissy at people for acting outside of his Favour system and giving charity to those he said can''t get it."

 Chapter 58: The Village Elder - Part 8

    <h4>Chapter 58: The Vige Elder - Part 8</h4>


    Beam nodded slowly, still having no idea what the Favour system was, but not wanting to show weakness in front of Greeves. "So, you knew from the start that Ferdinand''s request would mean going against the vige Elder. Yet you saddled me with it anyway."


    "Heh," Greeves shrugged again. "Such is the situation. A different kind of trouble to Goblins, but still trouble, mm? And we''ve a deal for you to sort it all out for me. As a merchant, I find that highly agreeable. That''s why you might find that your worth to me is rather high. Take from that what you will."


    A long sigh escaped Beam, as a weight left his shoulders. He rubbed his eyes in annoyance, but somehow couldn''t help smiling. As annoying as it was, if this was all within the merchant''s calctions, then he had nothing to worry about. "So all you''re saying is you want me to be a meat shield for the Elder''s animosity? Well, I think you''ve got that in spades. The old man freaked out on me. I must have offended him beyond the wood."


    "Oh?" Greeves'' head tilted in interest at those words and he put his pipe into his mouth andced his hands as though preparing for a good story. "Do share."


    "Hah, nah. That''s punishment for using me," Beam said. "So, back to this firewood business. You''ll get me a list of the families that the Elder refuses to help, I''ll sort them out with wood, and then you''ll consider this quest done?"


    Although quite obviously disappointed about not hearing Beam''s story ¨C Judas seemed to be too ¨C Greeves answered his question with his usual merchantisms. "That''ll be right. I''d wager these''ll be the same families that need helping with food, so that should narrow down your effort somewhat. Still, the hard part will definitely be the Elder getting in your way ¨C if he does. I quite like you. I''d rather not see you crumble to that freak of an old man before I get to crush you myself." He said such ominous words with a true smile on his face, as though that was his mode of affection.


    "Well, I''ll deal with that when ites," Beam said, not too worried about it, not yet. He stood to his feet, having concluded his business. "Get me that list, Greeves. I want to get started on it tomorrow."


    Greeves nced at Judas, who was standing in the corner on guard. "Look at that. Imagine me getting ordered around by a little runt of a kid."


    Beam shot him a sharp look, causing Greeves to put his hands up. "Fuckin'' cool itd. You''ve got such a temper on ya. You''d be a lot cuter if you''d roll with the jokes a bit more."


    "Tomorrow," Beam said again, nodding at him, before making his way back through the house and leaving out through the front door.


    Judas closed it after him, but not before offering him a few words. "If I was you, I''d be taking this business with the Elder more seriously, boy. He''s got more power than you might think."


    ¡­


    ¡­


    Later that day, Beam was back training, working off his unease as he sparred with his master in the mountains.


    He tried to kick at his master''s legs, knowing that he''d dodge, but wanting to at least distract him. His kick hit the air harmlessly, as he knew it would, but he was already swinging down with his stick towards his master''s shoulder, imitating the killing blow that Dominus had delivered to the Hobgoblin.


    But with a single motion, Dominus parried it and flowed seamlessly into an attack, pointing the end of his stick at Beam''s throat.


    "Dead again," he said. "You''re still wasting too much movement. You''re training both your speed and your strength ¨C you also need to train your efficiency. That''s what technique is. That''s what martial arts are. It''s the attempt at perfect trantion of your physical attributes into the most potent weapon you can muster."


    Beam twisted his lips in annoyance. He''d heard the same lesson before, though in different words. Still, it had yet to transform the way he was moving. There were improvements each day, even though they were slight, but when he fought against Dominus, it felt like nothing was changing. There was still an overwhelming gulf of ability between them. One that seemed like it would never narrow, no matter how much effort he put in.


    "And now you''re feeling sorry for yourself. You''re getting weaker at this rate," Dominus pointed out. "Those Goblins would have ended you if you fought them like this."


    "I know that," Beam snapped. He was still thinking of the Hobgoblin that bested him. And now he was thinking about the vige Elder too, as an unsettling bit of unease in the back of his mind, the promise of future issues.


    "Then stop thinking about unnecessary things and concentrate," Dominus said.


    Beam felt a stick hit him in the back of his head as they talked.


    "Oww," heined, rubbing his head and turning around just in time to see a small stick fall to the floor.


    "And your awareness is stillcking," Dominus murmured. He''d started including this in his training because of Beam''s failure against the Hobgoblin. The aim was to have him spare a part of his concentration for his surroundings even as he dedicated most of it to dealing with what was in front of him. But Beam hadn''t shown any signs of improvement in several hours, and he was feeling hopeless.


    Dominus sighed, looking at him. "¡­I suppose you''ve got questions. Ask them," he said, with more than a little irritation.

 Chapter 59: The Village Elder - Part 9

    <h4>Chapter 59: The Vige Elder - Part 9</h4>


    Beam didn''t even hesitate. It''d been on his mind the whole way home and the whole time home, even. He wanted to dismiss what had happened inside the Elder''s house as a mere hallucination, but he just couldn''t. He still felt a terror within him as he reimagined it.


    "Is magic real?" He asked.


    "Magic?" Dominus repeated with a raised eyebrow. "Ah¡­" He began nodding. "I suppose you would be asking that, mm?"


    "So? Is it?" Beam pressed him again.


    "Well, it depends on what you call magic, but, yes, to a degree, however¡ª" Dominus began, but Beam cut him off.


    "Really!? Does that mean there could be wizards hiding in the vige? People who are capable of magic?" Beam asked, half excited, half nervous.


    "No. That''s just what I was about to say. Whilst magic is possible, it''s a very limited pursuit¡­ Hah¡­ How do I exin this so you''ll get it?" Dominus said, putting a hand to a chin in thought. "Well, let''s put it this way, how many years of training do you think it takes before a man is capable of cutting through stone with a sword?"


    Beam tilted his head. He hadn''t even thought about it. But then, before meeting Dominus, he was quite sure it was impossible to perform such a feat. "I dunno¡­? A few years, I guess? Are you saying that''s magic?"


    Dominus shook his head. "No. No to both. It takes significantly longer than ''a few years''. It takes up to ten. Only a master swordsman can aplish it. It requires such an understanding of the de and of this universe that we inhabit that most people that attempt it will never be capable of doing it. But it''s not magic. It''s merely one of the highest demonstrations of physical effectiveness. Of martial technique. Magic is something different entirely."


    "So¡­ Since you can do it with a stick, does that mean you''re even higher up than them on the mountain?" Beam asked.


    The old knight merely smiled and shrugged as though such a thing was obvious. "Cutting a boulder with a de is merely the first step, after all. It''s like being able to see for the first time. See, magic is something simr. But it''s a far more maddening pursuit," he said.


    "I still don''t get it," Beam told him.


    "Well, just like I said, training to cut a boulder in half with a de requires a decade, minimum, for extremely talented people. Magic is a simr pursuit. It would require AT LEAST a decade of training ¨C most likely much more ¨C to be able to use even the slightest bit of magic, the weakest of spells," Dominus told him. "And unlike swordsmanship, you can''t see that you''re progressing. You have no idea whether you''re heading in the right direction. That''s decades upon decades of training where you get nothing at all until the very moment where you can ess mana in yourself and the world around you and make use of it."


    "..? Really? Is it that rare? That must mean that basically no one can use it," Beam said, twisting his face in a frown.


    "That''s exactly how it is," Dominus said with a nod. "And the people that do make it, they''re almost without exception, thoroughly insane. To put that amount of time in, to still believe that you can achieve it without seeing the slightest bit of progress ¨C that''s either the mark of a truly exceptional man, or a truly insane man. If you ever encounter a mage ¨C which you almost certainly won''t, for the chances are so low ¨C then you would best steer clear of them. Thest sane mage in known memory died centuries ago, as far as I know."


    "Hah¡­ So that''s how it is," Beam murmured. Then whatever was off about the vige Elder, it certainly wasn''t magic rted.


    "Wait a moment, boy," Dominus said, seeing that Beam was readying himself to continue training. "This is important. Now that you''ve got me speaking of it, it''s best you know, before you find yourself in trouble."


    Surprised by how serious his master was continuing to be, Beam looked up with more attention than he usually might.


    "Mages, without exception, are dreadfully powerful. Earlier I said that they needed decades of training even to use the slightest bit of magic ¨C that''s true. Except, that''s never where it ends. The hard part is finally tapping into the mana inherent in yourself and in the universe. Once that obstacle is ovee, it unlocks boundless power. Even the worst of them could erase a whole vige with a click of their fingers. They''re such powerful beings, that almost without exception, they gain a following. People wanting to learn from them, to gain the same power ¨C more drippings of insanity. Anyone involved with mages in any way is incredibly dangerous. And the mages themselves are even more so," Dominus told him.


    "Could they y the Pandora Goblin then?" Beam asked, thoroughly interested by now.


    Dominus shrugged. "The best mages ¨C as far as I know ¨C have never been equal to the most powerful swordsmen. Once they ovee the ceiling of mana, there is another ceiling above that which they must ovee to be even more powerful. I don''t know what that ceiling is. Nor do I know if anyone has ever broken it. There might be mages out there capable of defeating the Pandora Goblin, but don''t see the value in exposing their skill. But then, the same might be said of swordsmen too."


    "Hmm¡­" Beam said thoughtfully, as he picked his stick back up and readied himself for more sparring. "Then I suppose I had better get stronger," he said with a grin. "So that I never lose to any of these insane men that you''re calling mages."


    "Perish the thought," Dominus replied back with a grin of his own. "Go on then, show me how you''re going to ovee the wizardry."


    And then Beam ran forward, feeling refreshed, twirling his de as he searched for a new angle of attack.

 Chapter 60 The Colour Red - Part 1

    60 The Colour Red - Part 1


    Chapter 7 ¨C The Colour Red


    A week passed as Beam continued to do his quests and train with his new master. The progress was gradual, but it was certainly there, and with each day Beam grew more confident that he would pass the tests his master had set ¨C and maybe even pass them much earlier than predicted.


    He had yet to do another monster-hunting quest and was itching to test his newfound skills and strengths out on a target as soon as possible. Dominus had told him that within the next couple of days, it would be sensible to undertake one, as soon as he finished up with his firewood quests.


    And on this day, that was exactly what he was doing. Rather than training in the morning ¨C as he normally might ¨C his master had sent him into town early, saying that there was something he wanted to investigate in the forest before the midday sun sent all the creatures of the night scurrying. He wasn''t sure quite what it was that his master was investigating, but he also got the feeling that he shouldn''t ask, so he''d merely nodded obediently and went into town as he was told.


    So, far earlier than he normally might, he stood outside a roundhouse a little ways away from the vige, preparing to knock again. Each time that he did it, it didn''t exactly grow easier, but at the very least he grew more used to it.


    He''d even decided to spend a little money on clothes ¨C getting them cheaper after purchasing them through Greeves ¨C so he looked better than he had in a long time, and was warmer too. People didn''t give him quite the same disgusted looks that they used to, but the vigers were still quite wary of him.


    Beam knocked, tapping against the old wood of the door. He noted that it was long overdue for repairs. There was a sizable gap at the bottom of the door where it refused to close properly, and he could only imagine just how much heat they''d be losing through that in winter.


    His knock went unanswered, and after a few moments, he knocked again. The type of people who needed help with their firewood and their winter food preparation were the types that tended to work lesser-paid jobs, with worse hours. So if he did note early, there would often be no one inside the house, with them having gone to work or something of the like.


    He heard a child crying inside the house, and he assumed someone was home from it. It was very rare that children were left alone by themselves. It was for that reason that nearly all the families who had requested winter aid had small children, for they didn''t have the time to go into the forest and gather what materials they needed to get through. Also, the burden of food was more considerable with more mouths to feed.


    Finally, the door opened and a woman came to the door, holding a crying boy who looked to be about two, trying to calm him down.


    She nched when she saw Beam. He couldn''t mistake the hint of fear in her eyes. But surely she had heard by now that Beam had been assisting other families with their winter preparation? He frowned at her reaction.


    She seemed to be thinking along the same line of thought, for her fear soon cleared and she seemed to realize why he was there. "¡­You''re here to help us with winter preparation, right?" She asked. The boy had quietened his crying somewhat, as he looked to Beam with the curious eyes of youth.


    "I am. What do you need me to do?" Beam asked. Each family''s circumstances were different. Some families worked jobs, like butchering, that allowed them ess to good meat to get them through winter, but theycked the time to collect the firewood they needed themselves, and theycked the coin to buy it.


    Generally, that''s where the vige Elder''s Favour system came in. Beam had learned over the past week that the charity system that the Elder had set up ¨C supported by the Ten Major Families ¨C was such that goods could be exchanged for a token of ''Favour''.


    This Favour token was recorded by the vige Elder, and he would facilitate a transaction in which what one family needed was exchanged for a token of Favour if they did not have other means to pay.


    This Favour token was something like insurance for whoever received it. It entitled them to one favour, at any time of their choosing, such that the person who owed the Favour would give them their time for a day at maximum, assisting in whatever activity they wished. That was, any task within reason. But it was the vige Elder who decided how reasonable that task was.


    One man, a well-off butcher ¨C not one of the Ten Major Families, but then, one didn''t have to be to take part in the charity system ¨C had collected ten Favour tokens throughout the years as he gave away any excess meat he had before the winter. Then, when his house burned down in the night after his roof had caught fire, he cashed in those ten Favour tokens. Within days, he had a brand new house even better than hisst, without spending a single penny. Such was their value.


    Now, of course, a Favour token was typically worth less than whatever goods or services it was exchanged for, that was why it was a charitable system. But there seemed to be some sort of agreement in ce, one where any individual that received charity would also vote for the charity giver at the next Selection. Thus, it was a means for the Ten Major Families ¨C an elected position based on contribution to the vige ¨C to retain their role. And for the vige Elder to do the same.


    But it was the people who had collected too many Favour points ¨C without having the means to pay the Favour givers back ¨C that the vige Elder had decided to abandon, and whom Beam had been tasked with helping. So it happened that the people Beam had to help were those in particrly dire circumstances.


    MY LEGENDARY GENERAL SYSTEM

 Chapter 61 The Colour Red - Part 2

    61 The Colour Red - Part 2


    The woman at the door was one such person, though it would be hard to tell just from a single nce. She was probably just about as clean as the rest of the vigers ¨C not exceptionally clean, but not dangerously unclean either ¨C and she was pretty enough too, with brown hair and a kind, shapely face, looking to be in her thirties. But something must have happened. Her husband had probably died, Beam guessed, and now she was struggling to support her family alone.


    The woman fidgeted anxiously as she opened her mouth to say something but decided against it. "Uhm¡­ I don''t have the money to pay you¡­ We were just going toyer up more to get through the winter. I made a few extra nkets at work, so we''re fine really¡­ You can skip us," the woman said awkwardly.


    Beam sympathised. In her situation, he would feel just as bad, if not worse. In fact, Beam was liable to go through an unimaginable amount of suffering just because he hated asking for help. He was the type that would sooner catch hypothermia than ept charity. But in this current situation, Beam shook his head.


    "You don''t have to pay me. I''m getting paid by Greeves," he said honestly, figuring there was no harm in it. He was just as honest with the other people, sort of as revenge, so the Elder wouldn''t target him exclusively if he decided to retaliate, and would focus on Greeves too. "He got a request from Ferdinand, asking that he make sure everyone in the vige had enough firewood and food to get them through winter."


    The woman raised her eyebrows and held a hand to her chest as she sighed in relief. "My goodness. That''s so, so helpful¡­ But are you really sure it''s okay? I''ve never heard of the Lord''s son giving out help before? I thought it was the job of the Elder?"


    Beam shrugged. "At the very least, I don''t think you have to worry about it," he told her. "Now, what would you like me to do? Do you need firewood, or meat? Or both?"


    When it came to firewood, Beam would have to go into the forest and collect it himself, going back and forth until they had enough. It was tiring work, but it was simple, and it wasn''t too badly paid either. He was getting five coppers for what turned out to be just a few hours a day of work. And at the rate he was going, he reckoned he''d be finished By the end of next week, so that made it far better than his digging job.


    Food was more difficult though. But Greeves seemed to ept that would be the case, for the merchant begrudgingly gave him what he needed to keep them fed when they needed it. So Beam guessed it was apparently still profitable for him to do so.


    "Ah¡­ I really don''t know," the woman said with a hand to her cheek. "N''s been helping me you see ¨C so she can likely tell you more than me." She turned back into the house to shout for whoever N was. "N! Come on, wake up, N!"


    "I''m already awake! I''m getting dressed!" A reply was shouted a few secondster.


    Beam stood there awkwardly and waited.


    "She''ll just be a few moments," the woman said, smiling at him. "Would you like toe inside as you "¡­" Beam stood there wordlessly. He got the feeling that this woman was something of an airhead.


    11:19


    A girl came stomping to the door a few momentster, with a wild head of ubed red hair and a wait? It''s starting to get cold these days."


    "Uhh¡­ I''m pretty sure she said she was getting dressed," Beam reminded her, not that he was intent on going inside anyway.


    "Oh, that''s right¡­" Thedy said, as though she''dpletely forgotten.


    "¡­" Beam stood there wordlessly. He got the feeling that this woman was something of an airhead.


    A girl came stomping to the door a few momentster, with a wild head of ubed red hair and a sharp look in her eyes. She looked Beam up and down. "Who''s this?" She asked, more than a little impolitely.


    "He''s going to be helping us with firewood and food," the woman told her.


    The girl wrinkled her nose, as she attempted to brush her hair behind her head, only for it to spring straight back. "He''s tryna scam you, mother. The Elder has already refused us aid. There isn''t anyone else who''d give us charity. Besides, I told you we''d manage without them, didn''t I?"


    Beam''s eyebrow twitched in irritation. He hated dealing with people already, but noisy girls were even worse. She was somewhat pretty; he supposed. But she was small. At least a head smaller than him. She was probably fourteen or something, Beam guessed. ''What''s a kid like that acting so high and mighty for?'' He thought to himself, ignoring the fact that he himself was only fifteen.


    "No, no, he''s working for Greeves," the woman told her with a smile, "he''smissioned by Ferdinand."


    "Huh? No way. Judas works for Greeves. There''s no way he''d send some kid when Ferdinand asked him to do it," the girl said, her tone suggesting that they were both stupid.


    "When was thest time you went outside?" Beam asked, unable to hide his irritation. "You''re one of thest people that I have to help. I already helped that old man two doors down from you."


    "That''s right," the girl''s mother said with a nod. "I just thought we had to pay him¡­ but apparently not, since he''s already getting paid by Greeves. Isn''t that right dear?" She smiled at him again.


    "Yeah," Beam agreed, wishing he''d been able to continue dealing with just the woman.


    "Hmm¡­ Well, I guess if you aren''t asking for money¡­" The girl said, looking him up and down again. Beam wished she would stop doing that. Was it simply what girls did?


    "Are you going to tell him what he needs to know?" Thedy pressed. "I need to get started on my work. There''s all that weaving to do that I didn''t manage to do yesterday ¨C ahhh, they''re going to fire me at this rate, even after letting me work at home like this¡­ Ahhh, I''m in so much trouble," the woman said, seeming to forget that Beam was even there as she went scuttering back inside.

 Chapter 62 The Colour Red - Part 3

    Chapter 62 The Colour Red - Part 3


    "Don''t look at my mother like that, asshole," the girl said as soon as she was gone, immediately picking a fight with Beam.


    Beam twisted his face in annoyance. "Like what?" He said, struggling to hold in the urge to sigh.


    "Like you feel sorry for her. She doesn''t need or want your pity. Besides, you should be more worried about yourself, you look like a mess," she said, jabbing a finger at him with so much venom that the fabric of her woollen dress shook from the force.


    Beam didn''t even bother to look down on himself. He was looking far better than he had previously, so even with N''s aggressive assertions, he didn''t feel more self-conscious than he otherwise might have, he just grew more irritated.


    "I think I prefer dealing with Perth," he muttered under his breath, turning away, wishing he could just skip this house entirely now.


    "What was that?" The girl said, frowning, either not hearing or not understanding.


    "Oh, so you can hear?" Beam seized the opportunity. "Then do what your mother told you. You lose nothing from this, right? You get free wood and free food and you don''t even have to rack up Favour points in return. You''d be stupid to refuse, wouldn''t you?"


    The girl narrowed her eyes at him and tutted. "Boys like you who talk down to girls really are the worst. I can tell you''ve never had a girlfriend."


    "¡­" Beam just blinked at her, biting back a response. The urge to start trading insults with her was definitely there, but he felt childish doing it, and he could see the little boy still looking towards him from further in the room, curious as to what his big sister was up to.


    "Hmm¡­" The girl smiled in satisfaction, happy with her victory. "Good, well, since you know your ce now, I think I''ll do what I decided to do earlier and use you for all you''re worth. Ah, but, don''t misunderstand ¨C we don''t need food. I''m gathering that myself," she told him.


    "You are?" Beam said disinterestedly, not caring. The less work for him the better. That was all he thought.


    "Ah! N. You were going to hunt today, weren''t you? And then you''ll help me with my weaving once you get back? If you''re going, why don''t you take that boy along with you, so you can help him with the firewood whilst you''re there?" N''s mother shouted from further inside the room as she set up her loom.


    "Geh," N made a look of disgust, her brown eyes twitching in annoyance. "I haven''t even washed my face or anything yet¡­ Besides, I was going to go just before sundown. The hunting''s far better then," sheined.


    "No! It''s too dangerous to go when it''s getting dark. Besides, we''re going to be getting all this wood for free, the least you can do is help the poor boy," her mother said.


    "But he''s getting paid for it, he''s not doing it because he''s nice," N said back.


    Beam was inclined to agree with her there. They owed him nothing, as far as he was concerned. "Your daughter''s right, miss. You don''t need to go out of your way to help me. I''m getting paid for this, after all."


    "Nonsense," the woman said. "Even if you''re getting paid for it, it''s us who are benefitting from your work. If we don''t contribute what we can, then why do we deserve to have people help us?"


    Beam couldn''t say anything to that. Neither could N. They were both still young, after all, and an adult''s authority soon won out.


    "This sucks," N said, rubbing her eyes. "Well¡­ I guess since I have to go, I''ll work you to the bone. I''ll make sure you get us only the very best wood. If you try and take back anything that isn''t perfect, I''ll throw it away and make you do it again," she threatened, before dipping back inside for a few seconds.


    Beam just shook his head and started walking away. He''d brought his log sled with him, anticipating that he would have to get a lot of wood.


    In truth, it was Greeves who had given it to him ¨C for free, at that ¨C saying he took it from some old man''s house after he died, and it was such a piece of shit that nobody else wanted it, but it should at least help him with what he was doing, and that it most certainly did.


    It was a sled ¨C as the name implied ¨C about the length of a man, with a few thick sticks bound together with cordage to form a trustworthy base and a handle at the front that a person could sit behind and drag the cart with, just like a horse might. n/o/vel/b//in dot c//om


    Thinking that, Beam realized it was basically that. It was a cart that could be pulled by humans and one without wheels. It looked pretty flimsy since it was made out of sticks, but it was surprisingly sturdy. And even though it was a pain to drag it on the uneven paths of the forest, once they escaped it, it made the trips far fewer. It always left him somewhat exhausted, but Beam had just started to view it as extra training.


    By that sled was where Beam was waiting when N came rushing out of the house, bow in hand and a woollen scarf around her neck, looking for him this way and that. She narrowed her eyes when she spotted him standing there with his arms crossed.


    "I thought you''d left already. That''s a shame," she said as she came over.


    "¡­Are you really hunting?" Beam said, looking at her outfit. She had a wool coat over her dark grey dress that went all the way down to her knees, and thick woollen socks underneath it. It looked strange seeing her dressed like that, like a normal vige girl, only to have a bow in her hand and a knife at her hip, as though she really were a hunter.

 Chapter 63 The Colour Red - Part 4

    Chapter 63 The Colour Red - Part 4


    She scowled at his question. "Is that so strange?" n/?/vel/b//in dot c//om


    "Well, yeah," Beam didn''t try to hide his surprise. "I don''t think I''ve ever seen a girl hunting before."


    "So you''re stupid, then?" She asked back, immediately growing heated. Beam guessed it was a sore spot for her, so he just shrugged and said nothing further.


    "Well, I''m going to get going then. Just how much wood are youcking?" He asked, as he began walking towards the forest, dragging his sled.


    "Pretty much all of it," N said, not bothering to hide theircking. She caught the look Beam was shooting her. "What? We were just going to use nkets, like my mother said."


    "Didn''t you just call me stupid half a second ago?" Beam pointed out. "When the snows set in, without a fire on the night, you''ll freeze to death on the first night."


    "No, we wouldn''t," N disagreed as she hurried on after him.


    "Yes, you would," Beam said impatiently.


    "Well, how did you manage?" N asked, and Beam turned to look at her sharply. She held up her hands in defence. "Just I''ve seen you walking around before ¨C you''ve got no friends or family, do you? And you''re a digger. You''re poorer than me. How did you manage to get through the winter with no food and no wood? You won''t have had time for any of it, right? ''Cos you''re only one person, and you had to work."


    Beam was struck by a peculiar feeling as he heard her say that. He knew that people had noticed him before, and he knew that in a vige as small as this, no one really went unnoticed. But still, there was a feeling that came with N''s words that shook his view of reality slightly. He''d always felt far more invisible than he was. After all, he never really paid attention to the people around him. He would have expected the same from them.


    "I lived in the forest," Beam told her. "So when the snows set in, I didn''t have far to go for wood."


    "Mm¡­" N said thoughtfully as she looked at him.


    Beam looked over his shoulder. She''d fallen a few steps behind already, despite the fact that Beam was wrestling with a log cart that he was pulling behind him. "Can you walk faster? I have things to do."


    "Tsch. I have things to do as well, idiot. Besides, why do I even need to walk with you? Mother wouldn''t know if I just ditched you here and went hunting," N said, threatening to run away.


    "Hurry up and get on with it," Beam said. "Since I know how much wood you need, you''ve now served your purpose. I''ll get you two carts full and if you manage it properly, you''ll get through the winter. Now, you go running and pretend to hunt."


    He almost regretted hisstment as he saw the hurt sh over her face. But she just let out a "hmph," and turned on her heel and jogged ahead.


    "What was that?" He muttered to himself, almost feeling bad, recalling the offended look that she shot him. But losing his temper with her ¨C if only slightly ¨C was what he regret more. Not necessarily out of consideration for her feelings, but more for his own. It felt like weakness to let himself be so easily swayed.


    "Hah¡­" He sighed to himself and scratched his head, continuing his walk towards the forest. His axe and knife at his belt kept bouncing off the handle of his sled as he walked. The axe was lent by Greeves for a copper ¨C provided that he didn''t break it. It was a loan that Beam was grateful for, else his only option would have been to buy one, and with steel being as expensive as it was, it might have cost as much as 5 silvers.


    The knife was something he''d begged his master to allow him to keep for a little while, so that he might practise with it in moments of quiet and between work. He always imagined the Hobgoblin as he did, imagining how he might have been able to notice it earlier and defeat it.


    Once he was in the forest, he followed the path for a time, knowing that there would be no suitable firewood anywhere near the border, for that would have been the first to go as people took their share for the winter.


    He continued up over a hill, where his sled got snagged on rocks several times and he had to shake it to free it.


    Beyond there, he went to the east, in a different direction to where his house used to be. This was a spot that he''d been entreating in recent times, and he knew that there was a good amount of lumber to be had there still.


    He went off the path, dragging his sled with him, further into the trees.


    Spying a familiar spot, he unburdened himself, leaving his sled where it was, amongst a pile of autumn leaves and unhooking his axe from his belt.


    He stood there a moment, ncing around, wondering what direction to head in. Just in time to see a rabbit sprint past him and disappear behind a tree.


    There was the whoosh of something flying past, then a sharp squeal of pain from the rabbit. And then, there was nothing at all.


    Beam nced behind him, axe in hand, giving N a raised eyebrow as she walked past with a smug grin on her face. "Did you happen to see a rabbit run past?" She asked smugly. "It seems to have stolen my arrow."


    Beam sighed, imitating his master, as he pointed to where the rabbit was. "It''s over there, I expect."


    "Why, thank you very much," she said with a sunny smile. It seemed securing the animal had reversed her mood entirely. Beam wasn''t one toin, she seemed far easier to deal with when she wasn''t wasting time picking a fight every thirty seconds. "Oh, make sure you get us hardwood, won''t you? The sap in the pine makes it burn too fast tost us over winter."

 Chapter 64 The Colour Red - Part 5

    Chapter 64 The Colour Red - Part 5


    It was an impossible ask. Whilst she was right that the pine wood would burn a good bit faster due to the resin in it being so mmable, these were pine forests. There were next to no other trees besides them.


    "That''s not happening," Beam told her. "I''ll just get more wood topensate."


    "Oh?" N said, putting a hand to her cheek, imitating a maidenly gesture that suited her far too well. Now that her hair wasbed and behind her head, she looked even prettier than she had this morning. But it did nothing to cure her personality. "Well, since you clearly can''t do your job properly, why don''t you go running over there and pretend to cut wood? Your stench is scaring all the animals away."


    She fired back the same dig that he''d gotten in earlier, and Beam let out another sigh as he shook his head. He''d resolved not to bicker with her too strongly. If it was in her nature to be so prickly, then let her be, or so he thought.


    But¡­ He couldn''t hold himself back entirely.


    "You know that''s just one rabbit, right? Are you so new to hunting that you''d be happy over just one rabbit?" He said. In truth, Beam knew basically nothing about hunting. His foray into Goblin ying was his first stab at it. But he did know that when hunters went into the woods, they''de back with several pieces of small game. That, or they''d work together to take down somethingrger, like a deer.


    She swished her hair in annoyance. "I normally would, but I''m being conservative, seeing as I''ll have to help you carry your wood back."


    "Oh, don''t hold back on my ount," Beam said with a smile. "I have my sled. You won''t need to help with the wood at all. In fact, why don''t you go ahead and hunt more, while you''ve got the chance? Anything you can''t carry you can just put on top of the sled and I''ll take it back for you."


    "Grr," she screwed her eyes together in annoyance, getting that he was obviously poking holes at his belief in her skill. What kind of vige girl - and a girl her age at that ¨C could really be apetent hunter? Even boys her age would still becking somewhat, given that they didn''t yet have the arm strength to draw the more powerful hunting bows. "Well, fine, I suppose¡­ You''re stupid, after all. Just because I''m a girl, you think I can''t hunt. Hah¡­ And I thought the world was getting more modern."


    "Yeah, yeah," Beam said, wandering deeper into the woods, looking for any dead-standing wood that he could cut down. He couldn''t just chop down whatever tree he pleased, because the majority of them were alive and the wood wouldn''t burn very well, not until it was left to dry for a couple of seasons.


    He marched about, carefully observing the branches. N watched him a few seconds before running off.


    He turned to watch her go, a little surprised by how well she moved through the trees. She had more athleticism to her than her appearance suggested, especially with her hair tied back. It was her wild morning hair that more suited her personality, with its bright orange making it look like a lion''s mane.


    By observing the branches of the trees and which ones still had nice green needles even at the top, Beam was able to locate a nice dead-standing tree about the width of his palm. He tended to go for trees about that thickness, else the wood would be too hard to cut down and process.


    He swung with his axe once, chipping off a solid piece of wood. Then he swung again, aiming a few fingers slightly higher up than before, aiming to create a wedge, so he could more easily weaken it without his axe getting stuck.


    Now that he''d been cutting down trees for a short while, Beam was growing rather good at it. That, and as a result of his training with Dominus, he had more strength and more endurance than he''d ever had before. He wielded the axe easily, working away at a steady pace until the wedge was deep enough that the tree began to creak.


    Beam stopped his chopping then and grabbed the trunk to pull it down, taking care that he wouldn''t be underneath it as it fell. It dropped with a tter, sending up a cloud of pine needles and sshing the water of a stream a little ways away.


    "Mm," Beam murmured to himself. He''d have to cut it down into smaller bits so that it would fit in his cart, but otherwise, it was exactly what he was after. Another few trees like that and the cart would be full and his work done for the day.


    A bird took flight in a panic after the result of themotion it caused. A grouse, it seemed. Beam spared it a nce as it took to the sky, just in time to see an arrow puncture its side and send it ttering back down to the floor again.


    N walked past him, even more smugly thanst time. She barely spared him a nce, but from the smile on her face, Beam could tell that she expected apliment.


    He sighed, but said it anyway. "Nice shot."


    N shrugged. "I guess I was lucky, huh?"


    "Mm, now I''m not so sure," Beam said back, but his tone was full of disinterest. He had his work to do. He dragged his log towards where three young trees together formed a mp for it.


    Sliding one end inside of the mp, ensuring a pretty tight grip ¨C as tight as you could get from a natural formation of trees ¨C he then walked to the other end of the log and pushed it forwards. N?v(el)B\\jnn


    It took hardly any effort from him before the tree snapped at the pivot. It was a little trick he''d learned through doing it the past few days. If one was lucky enough to be in a part of the forest where there were trees close enough together for him to do a bit of leverage-helped snapping, then the job was much easier and quicker.

 Chapter 65 The Colour Red - Part 6

    Chapter 65 The Colour Red - Part 6


    He threw the snapped-off bit of log towards his sled and then pushed a bit more of the log inside the pivot, before doing the same thing again.


    As the log got shorter, the leverage was less and less, so it took more effort than it had the first time, but he was still able to get the whole thing snapped in pieces that would fit in his sled by doing that.


    And then he began chopping down another tree. For some reason, N was standing around watching him work.


    "You don''t get tired, huh?" Shemented, seeing him swing his axe with just as much vigour as he previously had.


    "I suppose we all have things we''re good at," Beam said, nodding towards the animals that she was holding.


    Ntched on to that. "Really? You think I''m good at hunting?" She smiled, as though thepliment meant a lot to her.


    "Well, I dunno," Beam said, not pausing his swinging. "At the very least, for a girl, I''d say you''re pretty decent."


    It was the wrong choice of words, at least for N. "Hah, there you go again. You''re really stupid, aren''t you? I guess that''s why Greeves has you working for him. All the people he employs are stupid, after all. If you can''t see my skill even after watching from up close, then you''re just blind. I''m easily the best hunter in this vige, no matter how many people refuse to admit it."


    "Stupid, is it?" Beam murmured, as he pulled another tree down. Thatment for him too hit something of a sore spot.


    Everything was improving as ofte. His agility, his strength, his fighting ability. It was all going remarkably well. Even his stuff with Greeves was going pretty good. But his strategy, out of everything, was going terribly. And he was pretty worried about it, too. It seemed ever since learning the rules of Battle, not only had he not got better, but it seemed like he''d gotten worse.


    What Beam did not recognize though, was the source of that which was holding him back. He did not realize the immense mental strain it ced upon himself to continually resist two attacks on his soul at once.


    Without understanding, he was struggling. Dominus seemed o have an answer for him, Beam could see that, but whenever Beam went to ask the question, Dominus would dodge it, saying that he had to figure out such things for himself, else the answer would not be as useful.


    Stupid might really have fit. Or at the very least, in that moment, Beam had no means of disproving it, and feeling as worried about his strategy as he was, he was inclined to agree. "Maybe." He admitted self-deprecatingly.


    N didn''t seem to notice the tone of his voice. Not that she would have cared even if she did. They were basically strangers, after all, and she had her own problems to worry about. One, proving her skill as a hunter. To her, that was of the utmost importance. If she couldn''t prove her worth in it and start pulling in money with it for her family, then she''d be forced to do the same work as her mother ¨C a thought she dreaded.


    "Well, I''ll leave you to your stupid work, stupid," N said childishly. "I''ll show you just how great a hunter I am, so that even an idiot like you can see your blindness."


    "Go for it," Beam said, "I''ve still got a few more trees to do."


    N ran off into the woods again and Beam returned to snapping his wood. He was going even quicker than earlier now, as his thoughts returned to the issues he was having with his strategy progression, and he wanted to rush back so that he could practise it.


    "It would be nice if I could practise Battle by myself, without having to bother master with it," he mused. In truth, with the way things were going, he would have liked to be practising the game all the time. After all, it didn''t leave him tired like lifting or running did. He could really practise it as much as he had time to. n/o/vel/b//in dot c//om


    He heard a thump as he worked and N came rushing back a few momentster, carrying another dead grouse by its legs. She put the animals on the floor next to the sled, then went bounding away, back into the forest.


    Beam eyed the three animal corpses with narrowed eyes. He was beginning to grow genuinely impressed.


    It was barely five minutester that she returned again, as Beam swung his axe relentlessly. This time she was carrying a squirrel, with an arrow shot through its eye.


    She didn''t look at him as she flung it down amongst the others, and then she went rushing back into the trees once more, looking for more kills.


    "Okay¡­" Beam said, slightly taken aback. "This girl''s kinda serious."


    Though he would never say it to her face, Beam was beginning to respect her energy, if only just a little. The girl seemed to know exactly what she wanted ¨C and she was running forward tirelessly to prove herself. Beam didn''t know whether he was so consistent¡­ He felt less like he was running towards something and more like he was running away from it.


    He could hardly do his work as he looked expectantly in the direction that she had ran, seeing whether she would really return again with another lot of them. Because frankly, at this rate, he was beginning to find it ridiculous.


    Sure enough, nearly ten minutester, she came rushing through the trees, her red hair billowing behind her, an unusually serious expression on her face as she rushed towards him with a grouse in each hand.


    She flung them down where she had the others and was about to go sprinting again.


    "Uhh¡­" Beam coughed into his hand, not knowing quite what to say. She looked at him as if to say ''what?''. He scratched the back of his head awkwardly and tried to mutter out something at least somewhat sensible. "I think¡­ at this rate, you''re definitely a better hunter than I thought. Better than most boys, even."

 Chapter 66 The Colour Red - Part 7

    Chapter 66 The Colour Red - Part 7


    "Oh?" She asked with a raised eyebrow. "I don''t know why you think your opinion is that important, stupid." She said, sticking her tongue out. "Anyway, are you almost done? I don''t want to wait around here much longer. I have things to do, after all."


    She returned the same line that Beam had said to her earlier, only with a good degree more sass. Beam was left thinking that girls were unbelievably difficult to deal with. Especially this one. He was getting kind of envious of her skill with the bow.


    After all, if he had the same skill, could he not have hunted the Goblins better? Would it not have been far simpler to pick them off from a distance and narrow their numbers down, only to engage them up close?


    Whilst convenient, his recent training informed him of just how long such a skill would take to learn. And to get to her level would take even longer.


    "Yeah, I''ll snap this up, then I''ll be off," he said.


    "Back to more work for Greeves?" N asked, without really seeming interested. It seemed to be more of a dig than a question.


    "No, I don''t work for Greeves," Beam corrected, with more ice in his tone than expected. "He''s just paying me to do a couple of tasks."


    "That sounds like you work for him, dummy," N said, yawning. She''d really taken a liking to calling him stupid. It reminded Beam of how his master called him trash. The words themselves didn''t hurt, but the reminder of the state that his strategy was in did and he twisted his mouth in annoyance.


    There were only a few weeks left after all. If he couldn''t improve his strategy and beat Dominus in Battle, then all his work would have been for nothing.


    Beam said nothing as he loaded his log sled to the brim. Then he motioned with his head for her to put some of the game she''d caught on top.


    She nced at the pile of animals that she''d collected and from the look on her face, Beam could tell that she was hardly half a second away from refusing him. But even she acknowledged that it would be a pain to carry so many animals with her bare hands.


    She ced them gently on top of the wood, as though afraid of hurting them. Beam watched her, unused to the grace of a woman.


    "Ah, wait, haven''t you overfilled your sled?" She realized, as she ced everything down. Beam really had filled it high, higher than normal people might fill it. But he''d made sure that all the wood was ced sturdily so that it wouldn''t copse even after he pulled the sled hard.


    "Hah, I thought you were going to tell me off for not collecting more," Beam said with augh.


    "Well, I would, but now I''vee to realize just how stupid you are, I think it would be a bit too cruel to make you do too much," she said.


    "Alright, alright," Beam said, ducking behind the sled''s handle. "Another sledful, and you''ll be fine for the winter, right?" He asked as he prepared to pull.


    She looked at him doubtfully, as though disbelieving that he''d be able to get it moving at all. "Mm¡­ Maybe. A third sled full and we''d definitely get through, though."


    "Heh, maybe I''ll give you another one and a half sleds then," Beam said, taking in a deep breath and using a good amount of force to break the inertia of the sled.


    This here was definitely the hardest part, where the soil was soft and the sled sank into the ground. Not only that, but they were on a hill. To make it back up to the path would require a significant bit of effort, but Beam had done it a few times by now, so he knew his limits.


    "Make sure your meat doesn''t fall off," he said as he began pushing, steadily plodding forward as he ascended the hill.


    He had to really put in a good amount of effort to make it over some of the rocks that were sticking out of the ground, but he made steady progress and showed no signs that it was a significant struggle for him.


    "Hehhh¡­ You''re kinda strong for someone so little," N said in wonder as she walked behind him.


    "I''m not really that little," Beam pointed out, "I''m just kind of average."


    She shrugged. "For a boy, you''re pretty little. Must suck, huh? All the girls will go for the taller boys, knowing that they''re stronger."


    Beam shrugged back. "I''d rather be stronger than look stronger."


    N shot him a searching nce, as though trying to puzzle him out. "Hmm¡­"


    They made it to the path and from there, the going was much easier. Beam could walk all day on those paths, even with that weight behind him. He was getting stronger with each passing day, and he could feel it. That night, he was expecting a new record in his strength training, after building up to it for a few days and he flexed his fingers in excitement, nodding to himself as he pulled.


    ''Yup, I''m in good condition ¨C I should be able to get it done,'' he thought to himself as he went. n/o/vel/b//in dot c//om


    They made it back to N''s house in rtive silence.


    They paused at the door. "I''ll go and get mother so she can see what we got," N told Beam.


    Beam nodded. A few momentster, her mother came to the door, wearing her apron, seeming as though she''d just been in the middle of work. She looked from Beam, to the sled full of firewood and stacked with meat and her eyes widened in joyous surprise.


    Beam nodded. A few momentster, her mother came to the door, wearing her apron, seeming as though she''d just been in the middle of work. She looked from Beam, to the sled full of firewood and stacked with meat and her eyes widened in joyous surprise.


    "There''s so much wood!" She gasped, her eyes watering. "And so much meat, too! How did you both manage this so quickly?" She asked.


    "I think because he''s stupid, he doesn''t get tired as quickly as other people," N told her. "But look!" She said, puffing her chest out. "Look how much I hunted. Pretty good, right? I''m easily going to be able to get us all the meat we need for winter at that rate."

 Chapter 67 The Colour Red - Part 8

    Chapter 67 The Colour Red - Part 8


    "Did you really do this all yourself?" Her mother asked, her eyes containing a hint of disbelief. N looked to Beam for support.


    Beam nodded. "I didn''t believe it myself, but it would seem your daughter is quite skilled with a bow," Beam said.


    N grinned at the acknowledgement and nodded excitedly. "See? It''s like I''ve been telling you. I''m way better than the other hunters. I''ll go out again tomorrow and get even more. Since he''s got his sled, I can bring loads back with me."


    "Hang on," her mother said, slowing her down. "You can''t just keep calling him ''he''. What''s your name, sweetie?" She asked Beam.


    "Beam," Beam said expressionlessly.


    They both seemed to pull back a bit at his name, as though feeling sorry for him that he was named something so stupid. But he shrugged internally. It wasn''t the name given to him at birth ¨C it was the name his vers had given him. He had chosen to keep using it as a reminder of his position and what he''d been through. And he''d continue using it until the day he''d achieved what he wanted.


    Before, he didn''t know exactly what it was that he wanted. He just knew it was some sort of grand achievement. But now he knew, the day that he retook his real name would be the day he slew the Pandora Goblin.


    "That''s such a stupid name¡­" N said, pretending to gag.


    "Don''t say that," her mother scolded her. She looked at Beam with kind eyes. "Thank you so much for the help you''ve given us today. N''s pushing you toe again tomorrow ¨C but is that really okay? You''ve already given us so much wood."


    Beam shrugged. "I was nning toe tomorrow. This won''t be enough to get you through winter. It''s pine, after all," he said, shooting a pointed nce at N.


    N''s mother looked so happy she could cry. She sniffled a bit, holding her cheek. "Ohh, goodness," she said. "I was so worried this morning, but now it looks like everything is going to be okay. Oh, I''m so, so, so happy." She said and in a sudden spark of energy, she reached out and hugged Beam. "Thank you ever so much," she said, before reaching out to hug her daughter too, kissing her atop the head. "Thank you too, N, my little hunter. Your little brother and sister are going to be able to eat well this winter thanks to you."


    Beam stood there stunned, his eyes wide, unable to say a word for a few moments.


    "Gehhh!" Nined. "Don''t go thanking him! He''s getting paid, remember?" She shouted. "And stop hugging strangers too!"


    "Ssssh. He''s a kind boy, I can tell. Even if he''s getting paid, he could have left us with the bare minimum, couldn''t he? Besides, he helped you with your meat, did he not?" Her mother said.


    "Geh¡­" N twisted her face in disagreement, before grabbing her mother''s hand and attempting to push her back inside. "Go on, before you embarrass yourself any more. We''ll get this all unloaded, so you get on with your work, okay? They''re going to fire you if you don''t get it done today."


    Thedy nched at that and nodded hurriedly, before thanking Beam and going back inside.


    N pointed at Beam when she was gone. "What''s your problem, anyway!? Why are you letting random women hug you?"


    "Uh¡­" Despite her not knowing it, to Beam, it was a genuinely good question. With his master,tely, he had been training so that he''d be constantly aware of his surroundings even whilst in the depths of focus and he thought he was getting better at it, too. Yet this normal woman had somehow managed to phase through his defences with the most normal and sluggish of movements. Frankly, he was shocked.


    "Gods, you''re stupid. Hurry up and get this unloaded. And make sure toe earlier tomorrow, okay? The game''s far better before it gets so bright outside," N told him.


    Beam nodded, only half focusing on what he was doing. He figured at this rate, it would be a long day tomorrow as well.


    ¡­


    ¡­


    That afternoon, Beam was back training with his master again. They sparred in the midst of the pine forest, a short walk away from Dominus'' house. Beam practised with a short stick in the ce of a knife. His aim was to dial in his strategies for when he next dealt with the Goblins.


    He feigned one direction, then he feigned the opposite direction, before leaping forward from the original direction, his knife ¨C his stick ¨C bearing down on Dominus from overhead. But that too was a feint. He switched his momentum in midair and aimed for Dominus'' midsection.


    But the old knight swatted the blow away with such contempt it was as though Beam was nothing more than a fly in the wind.


    Beam rolled away, breaking his fall, sending dry pine needles flying.


    He''d realized as he fought with his master over the past week that he needed to perfect a style. He needed moves of his own that he could use. He needed weapons. And so he''d settled on a style that he imagined would be highly effective against Goblins. A style with an emphasis on misdirection.


    "Your flow is improving," Dominus noted, "but your attacksck bite, and these foolish attempts at misdirection are weak and unconvincing. You''d be lucky to even trick a Goblin with them. If you wish to misdirect your enemy, then you have to understand the aims of your enemy."


    "The aims of my enemy?" Beam repeated thoughtfully, lowering himself back into a fighting stance.


    "You have to understand how they see the world. You have to understand what they''re looking for ¨C it''s only then that you can manipte their perception." n/o/vel/b//in dot c//om


    Beam was already moving as he processed that thought. How did a Goblin see the world? What was it looking for when it fought? No. His enemy right now wasn''t a Goblin. It was Dominus, the wounder of the Pandora Goblin. What was he looking for? What did he see?

 Chapter 68 The Colour Red - Part 9

    Chapter 68 The Colour Red - Part 9


    He saw a weak boy, for sure. He saw someone without experience. What was he looking for? He was looking for a chance to exploit Beam''s hyper-focus and hit him from the back, in a lesson that had been going on for a week, one intent on making him more aware of his surroundings.


    Beam smiled as an idea began to form and he darted in a circle around Dominus.


    There was a stick that Dominus had tossed up a few moments before, spinning to the back of Beam''s head like a boomerang. Dominus was even more focused on that stick than Beam was, likely.


    Beam stepped in front of the path of the boomeranging stick, pretending he hadn''t seen it, and then he began his assault on Dominus, starting with an attempt at a calf kick.


    Of course, the old knight dodged easily, with the barest of movements, just as he always did. But Beam didn''t let up. He lunged forward into a front kick, then spun into a back fist. Then, just before the boomeranging stick hit him, Beam ducked, shifting his weight to prepare an uppercut. n/?/vel/b//in dot c//om


    Dominus'' eyes twitched in momentary surprise, as the boomerang came spinning towards him and Beam prepared tounch himself forward at the same time.


    Beam bounded off his back foot, aiming to get behind Dominus as he let the stick take care of the front. He threatened the knight from two different angles, pushing him further than he had before.


    The aura of darkness about him grew, if only for a moment.


    But with a single sweeping kick, Dominus knocked both the spinning stick out of the air and he sent Beam sprawling against a tree.


    Beam sat there for a moment, temporarily winded, but smiled. Dominus helped him back to his feet with a nod.


    "That''s your best attempt yet. That''s the sort of misdirection that will prove effective even against humans. You''re starting to notice your surroundings more, without letting it affect your one-on-one ability. There''s more flow there, good. I think it''s definitely time you take up another monster-hunting quest and test for yourself just how far you''ve progressed," Dominus told him.


    "Yes!" Beam grinned. He''d been looking forward to this for a while. Finally, it was time to get revenge on the Goblins. It was only then that he remembered his promise to N. "Ah¡­ But I have to help get firewood in the morning. Will I still be able to manage to do it in the afternoon, even with training?"


    Dominus shrugged. "I suppose that depends on how fast you are¡­ For now, hurry up and finish off your work on stones."


    Beam nodded. In between his stone lifts, he''d asked to spar Dominus, so he could let his muscles rest slightly, whilst also getting in some more training. That was how his brain was working as ofte ¨C he wanted to spend every second of free time that he had practising and getting better. He didn''t want to leave things to chance. He wanted to pass these tests weeks in advance if he could ¨C they were too important to leave until just before the deadline.


    And now, he was lifting the fourth stone, for the first time ever.


    It had been a week and a half since he had started training with Dominus, and back then, he''d only been able to lift the third stone once. Today, he''d managed it twenty times, and he still wasn''t convinced that he was tired. He could feel all the momentum of the universe behind him and he wanted to make use of it.


    Over the past week, his strength had fallen several times, to the point that he''d begun worrying about it. On one day, he couldn''t even manage the third stone for one lift. It was beyond frustrating.


    Yet over the past three days, the momentum had been incredible. With each day, he lifted the stone for more, and with each day he ran even faster too.


    This was the fourth day of that unGodly progress, and it was only now that he was finally rolling the fourth stone out. He''d run earlier, and he''d run faster than he ever had ¨C so much so that he felt like an entirely different animal, even if the difference to everyone else wasn''t that dramatic.


    This was his chance to end the day well, after doing well in both his martial training and his speed. There was a nervous knot in the pit of his stomach as he ran his hands around the cold stone.


    It felt so big even before he began to lift it. He could hardly get his hands round it. This one was only a little less than the weight of a man, and it had the size to back it.


    He sucked in a deep breath and lifted it up as fast as he was able.


    Shockingly, to him, it made it to his knees with hardly any effort at all. And then to his chest with the same amount of inhuman ease.


    He shared an excited look with his master, who gave him the nod that it was fine to drop it.


    Then, after that. Beam lifted it again and again and again. By the ninth lift, his legs were shaking and his face was bright red, with his eyes looking as though they were fit to burst from his skull. But he didn''t want to stop so close to ten.


    He summoned thest of his effort and, in a valiant attempt, he somehow managed to scrape the stone up his shins and onto his thighs toplete the first step. And then, with one final push, he lifted it up to his chest and held it until Dominus gave the nod.


    "Gods!" Beam gasped as he copsed to the floor. "I''ve gotten so strong! At this rate, I''ll pass the strength test before the end of next week! This is crazy!"


    Dominus nodded with a smile. "You''ve done well," he said, but his look darkened for a moment. "I have learned to fear moments of growth so rapid," he said quietly. "And there''s that smell in the air from recent days too¡­ You had best be careful, boy. What the Goddess of progress gives with one hand, she snatches away with the other."

 Chapter 69 The Colour Red - Part 10

    Chapter 69 The Colour Red - Part 10


    He pretended not to see the pain on Beam''s face, as the boy fought to wrestle the recoil of such progress. Both Ingolsol and udia continued their war inside of him, feeding on this new potential that he was gaining, as both of them grew in size.


    Dominus winced as he turned away. He could not imagine how hellish the pain Beam was enduring was. He could only pray that the boy managed to find his way forward, before it was toote.


    Chapter 8 ¨C des and Blood


    The next day, Beam was outside N''s house again with his log cart.


    Somehow, his mood was poorer than the day before, after yet another day of no progress in strategy. Despite doing so well in his strength training, his agility training and his martial training, hisck of progress in strategy was leaving him so worried that he couldn''t properly enjoy them.


    He got there earlier, like N had suggested, but she was still sat outside her house, her legs crossed and her arms folded, looking thoroughly discontent as she checked her arrows waiting for him.


    "You''rete," she told him, bouncing up to her feet.


    Beam nced at the sky. "It''s only dawn. If I''de any earlier, it would have been pitch ck."


    "That''s exactly what you want, idiot," she said, jabbing a finger at him. "If you arrived when it was dark, then by the time we got into the forest, there''d only just be the tiinieessst bit of light. It would have been perfect.


    Beam sighed with a shrug. "Alright, whatever you say. Let''s get going then."


    N twisted her face at his reaction. "What''s with you? You''re in an even worse mood than yesterday."


    "It''s nothing that concerns you," Beam said curtly. "Let''s get going. I have things to doter."


    "That line again!" N said in annoyance. "No one''s impressed!" She shouted. "Everyone''s got things to do! All you''re going to be doing is running around doing more tasks with Greeves. It''s not like you''re really doing anything special ¨C so stop acting so high and mighty."


    Beam gritted his teeth, genuinely annoyed, holding his hand up for quiet. "Look, just hurry up, would you? We''ve only got today to go, then we''re done with each other. Surely even you can put up with that major inconvenience just for today." n/o/vel/b//in dot c//om


    "Wow, you''re really annoyed, huh?" N looked at him condescendingly. "No one likes boys that are hot-headed, y''know, you''d better get that sorted, stupid."


    But Beam was already pulling his sled, even more annoyed at himself for himself for getting annoyed. Then even more annoyed on top of that when he remembered how far behind he was in his strategy training. It was eating at him like crazy. He had his Goblin mission today too, but he couldn''t really look forward to it when strategy was going so poorly.


    ''I need to do something about it,'' he said, clenching his fist as he walked, thoroughly ignoring N by now, already plotting how he could fix the problem that he''d found himself in. ''If I hurry and finish this, then go to see Greeves for the Goblin''s location, then run all the way back¡­ Maybe I can get a few games of Battle in with master before I leave to hunt the Goblins. If I can just solve something in those few games, then I won''t be so distractedter on.''


    He knew that he likely shouldn''t be worrying about it as much as he was, but he couldn''t help it. It was impossible to set it from his mind when he had no real hope of improvement to cling to for it. It wasn''t like he''d shown any particr skill for it in the past, except maybe against the Goblinsst time. But it was still quite possible that it was just a major area of weakness and no matter how much he practised, he wouldn''t get better at it.


    In truth, what was happening, was the boy was running himself straight into a brick wall. As everything else did well, his mind grew worse, the strain needed to keep up normal function was unbearable. But he told himself it was nothing ¨C in fact, his anger only grew with himself from the weakness. He couldn''t believe how pathetic he was.


    Before, his progress had been a struggle, he was used to that. He was even content with that, for struggle soon became his aim, for he could not reach true progress ¨C so to merely endure the struggling quickly became his goal, a way to remain sane whilst endlessly pushing forward through the endless blizzard of his harsh reality.


    But now he''d been given a gift, or so he was told ¨C the blessing of udia and the passage through the Second Boundary. To be progressing in everything so well and yet for strategy to remain stagnant ¨C he could not fathom it. It irked him so. It did not help that the essences of udia and Ingolsol were only continuing to grow inside of him, making him quicker to anger than he normally might be.


    "You''re walking so fast," N said, drawing his attention back to the world around him.


    "Are you not going to run off again?" Beam said in annoyance. "I''m not joking ¨C I really have to get this done as fast as possible."


    "Hah, you''re some," N said, ignoring him.


    "Damn it," Beam cursed in frustration, imagining all the time that was slipping through his hands. He hated it. He hated the feeling of irritation. He hated that he was fighting with N, despite having no reason to. He hated that he couldn''t just rx and trust that he''d get better at strategy no matter what happened. He hated the fact that he wasn''t already good enough at it as to set the worry from his mind. In short, Beam hated the current him.


    He felt for the knife on his belt in an attempt to calm himself. That was it. His fingers around its hilt ¨C that was beginning to feel familiar now. That was what progress felt like. A knife had never felt sofortable in his hands before. Just a week and a half ago, he was even less than he was now, or so Beam assured himself. ''Progress wille,'' he repeated over and over.

 Chapter 70 Blades and Blood - Part 1

    Chapter 70 des and Blood - Part 1


    They soon neared the forest.


    "Hey, let''s go deeper today," N said, seeming to forget what Beam had said about being in a rush.


    Beam bit back an angry response, before realizing that they''d need to go deeper anyway, because he''d already taken up most of the dead-standing trees from his previous area. He wasn''t sure that there were any more.


    "Nice!" N said excitedly. "If I get a deer, you''ll be able to carry it back on the sled, won''t you?"


    Beam nodded grimly.


    "Hey, cheer up," N said, jabbing his arm. She was the very opposite of him in spirits ¨C everything was going well for her currently, and right now, she could hunt all she wanted. Even with a miserablepanion, she felt on top of the world. "I''ll give you a deer leg for your help. What do you think? Sounds pretty good, right?"


    "¡­" Beam hesitated to reject her, for fear of sounding like more of a child than he already had, so he just shook his head without saying anything and pushed further along the path.


    They walked for longer than Beam had intended, as he found himself lost in gloomy thought, letting his feet do the work. N was humming happily as she led them deeper and further to the east than they had been before.


    By the time Beam looked up, the trees had gotten considerably wilder and the evidence of humanity was much less prominent.


    "Hah¡­ I can''t believe we came so far," Beam said, scratching his head, only just now realizing the distance they had covered


    N giggled. "I know! It''s great right? I''m sure we''ll be able to catch a deer here without too much trouble."


    "¡­Yeah, that or a bear. Please don''t get attacked by a bear. I don''t have the energy for that right now," Beam said lethargically, as he pulled himself out of the handle behind his sled and set it against a tree.


    "Tschh, are you still underestimating me?" N fumed. "I''m the best hunter in this vige! I''m not going to get done in by a bear ¨C I''ll stay far away from any, until I feel like hunting them for the fur."


    "Alright then," Beam said, unhooking his axe from his belt, as he began looking for wood to chop.


    "I''m really going to need your help if I find a deer, y''know? I''m not going to be able to move the body on my own," N said, looking troubled, as though she didn''t believe that Beam would really go out of his way to help her.


    "Rx. After yesterday, in my mind, there''s already a deer that needs dealing with. I don''t anticipate seeing you fail," he said, as he found his first tree and knocked on its trunk to make sure it wasn''t rotten.


    "Right!" N said with a sunny smile, as she waved goodbye and went scampering into the woods.


    "Hah¡­" Beam sighed, watching her go. "¡­I really need to get this strategy problem sorted," he told himself. "I''m acting so miserable, it''s embarrassing."


    He took his axe and hit the tree with more force than he normally might, venting his frustration with repetitive strikes. Wood chips flew as he made the wedge in the wood wider and wider, and before he knew it, the tree was already falling down.


    "Shit¡­" He cursed, seeing it topple over before he''d intended to fell it. He usually liked to just chop half way through the tree then pull it down the rest of the way himself. That was usually the best way to avert something going wrong. Letting it free fall like this was dangerous, at least in his eyes, and the falling tree only just narrowly missed his sled.


    "I need to wake up," he told himself, closing his eyes and taking deep breaths. He attempted to take notice of as much of his surroundings as he could. Training what Dominus had been attempting to teach him.


    He opened his eyes again, resolving to stay as alert as he could as he worked. "Even if I''m falling behind in strategy, it doesn''t mean I should miss the opportunities to train everything else when I''ve got time for it," he said to himself, looking for a cluster of trees that he could thread the log he''d felled into and begin snapping it into smaller pieces.


    "Hmm¡­ Maybe there?" He guessed, spying a cluster that seemed like it might serve his purpose. He heard a bird rustle behind him. A dark crow. It eyed him for a few seconds, before cawing and flying away. Beam smiled, pleased that he''d been able to notice the creature, despite his focus being elsewhere.


    "H-H-HELP!!" A cry came from deeper in the woods. Beam didn''t need his perception skill to notice that. His eyes narrowed with the utmost seriousness, as life returned to them. Where before, earlier in the morning, they had been a dull mess of grey, reflecting the troubles of his heart. Now, the grey was reced by green and blue as they danced with golden flecks, full of danger. n/o/vel/b//in dot c//om


    He cracked his axe into the side of the log he''d felled, leaving it behind. In his ce, he drew the knife that he''d bought for Dominus. It was razor sharp now, and he''d managed to work a few of the chips out of the de ¨C it was a lethal weapon for true.


    He sprinted towards the noise, his pathfinding skill more an instinct now ¨C he didn''t have to think as he ran ahead. His new agility spurred him onwards, as he did his strength. He bounded across the steep terrain, clearing ditches where streams had once run, moving with all the grace of a deer.


    The cry for help did not sound again, not as Beam ran. He didn''t know whether that was a good sign or a bad one, nor did he think to consider it. His mind was clear, ridden of all the thoughts of that day''s problems, of all the worries of his strategy progress. Now, he was simply primed for a fight.


    My guy Beam is grumpy. Rough. This is why we invented coffee, y''know?

 Chapter 71 Blades and Blood - Part 2

    Chapter 71 des and Blood - Part 2


    His feet kicked up dry dirt as he sprinted in the direction of the noise. It hardly took him any time at all to reach the area where the shout hade from, but each moment felt like a lifetime as he willed himself to go faster. ''There can be no mistakes,'' was the single thought that permeated his entire being in response to what he only knew to be an emergency.


    He arrived, spying N''s red hair as she looked around her with a distraught expression on her face and an arrow notched on her bowstring.


    "What happened?" He asked quietly as he stood in front of her, his knife ready in the reverse grip as he scanned their surroundings. There was blood pouring from a wound from her hand, but as of yet, no enemies in sight.


    She quivered and shook her head, tears in her eyes. "I-I don''t know," she stammered. "I was tracking a deer¡­ And¡­ There was this horrible noise in the trees, like footsteps. Then it sounded like something wasughing at me¡­ Then something cut my hand, but I couldn''t see what."


    She fought to control herself and exin things to him without the fear distorting her words. Beam watched the effort in real-time, and he felt his respect for her rising. He''d learned ofte just how stabbing fear could be.


    He grabbed her hand to look at the wound. Her hands weren''t as soft as he''d expect a woman''s to be ¨C but they were so small. So much smaller than his. The red blood marred her white skin. The wound was deep. But they could afford to ignore it for now ¨C it hadn''t hit any major blood vessels.


    "N," he said firmly, grabbing her by the shoulders and making sure her eyes were firmly on his.


    She gasped at the sight of his lively eyes, as they were widened, as though trying to drink every treasure in the world in. But she nodded, to show he had her attention.


    "Kekeke," Beam could hear theughter in the trees that she''d spoken of. A cross between a cricket''s chirping and a child''s shrieking. It was a sound he recognized.


    Beam looked over his shoulder. "Goblins¡­" He murmured, running through decisions in his head. His strategy was indeed the worst it had ever been, but his body was at its best. He listened to his body then ¨C and he stood in front of N, his knife at the ready.


    "Stay behind me, no matter what," he told her. "Count their numbers and keep an eye out behind us. I''m still weak at taking in all my surroundings ¨C I''m counting on you."


    N nodded to show that she understood. "What are they?" She asked, managing to control the shivers that were coursing through her body by sheer willpower.


    "Goblins," Beam said, just in time for the first of them to walk out from the trees, a bloody spear in its hand and its jaws twitching in a mad chatter.


    It gave a squeal and three more Goblins came out after it, mbering through the trees like demonic monkeys and hollering all the while. N?v(el)B\\jnn


    They moved slower than thest Goblins he had seen, as though savouring their superiority, getting a thrill from knowing that they had the overwhelming advantage.


    More Goblins appeared from the forest ¨C another three. These came from the north, whilst the others hade from the east. Beam gulped, flexing his fingers on the grip of his knife. He looked at N behind him. If not for her, the best decision now would have certainly been to run.


    But whilst she was agile and athletic, as he had seen, he knew that she wasn''t as fast as him and she definitely wasn''t as fast as a Goblin. His only choice was to fight. He sucked in a deep breath, battling his own fear that was threatening to rise up, recing it with anger.


    These Goblins were of the same blood as the Hobgoblin that had shown him up so thoroughly. He had a debt to settle with them. ''Make no mistake ¨C I''m stronger than I was,'' he said to no one in particr and all the cells in his body roared in agreement.


    "There''s seven," N murmured behind him. "We''re¡­ We''re done for at this rate," she said, struggling to keep her voice from cracking. "You could probably get away if you ran, right? Why are you standing still? We can''t fight them."


    "We don''t have a choice," Beam told her, taking a step forward to give himself room to fight. "Do what you can. Stay close to me and let me know if you''re in trouble. Watch out for their teeth ¨C they''re going to jump at you and try to bite."


    "How¡ªHow do you know?" N asked, her eyebrows furrowed in bemusement. He was just a lumberman to her, after all. Just a dog of Greeves. There''s no reason he should know how to fight Goblins ¨C hardly anyone did. Especially not a boy his age.


    Beam shed a smile as the Goblins howled, one that he had to fight to keep from quivering ¨C seven Goblins at once was an intimidating sight after all. And then, he said something that sounded like an outright lie. "I killed fivest week ¨C though the conditions were a bit different."


    It sounded like a lie, but to N, in that moment, it radiated truth. The boy in front of her had an aura of strength billowing off him that she''d never seen before. It infected her like a me, as though melting away her own fear. Her legs that had earlier refused to move unlocked slightly and she gave a deep and serious nod, finally seeing a path toward victory.


    "Get ready," Beam warned, hearing the Goblin''s cries reach a fervour pitch, as the party of seven spread out amongst the trees.


    Had Beam been of sound mind, he would have cursed himself for being so excited despite the danger they were in. It was as though his body craved action. Ingolsol was wing at him, howling with delight.

 Chapter 72 Blades and Blood - Part 3

    Chapter 72 des and Blood - Part 3


    There was something different about these ones that Beam couldn''t quite put his finger on. They almost seemed more intelligent. Or at the very least, more restrained. Thest party that he''d met would have thrown themselves at him by now, yet these seven just slowly advanced, screaming their horrific battle cries.


    "N. Can you fire an arrow? It doesn''t matter if you miss or not," Beam said, getting an ominous sense from their slow advance. At this rate, they would simply be smothered before they had a chance to counterattack.


    Beam didn''t get a reply, and just as he turned to find out why, he felt an arrow rush past his ear and fly through the trees.


    "HYGAH!" There was a shrill scream as the arrow buried itself in a Goblin''s eye. The creature tore it out of its skull, bringing its eyeball with it, its rage monstrous. But its legs went from under it a momentter and it copsed to the floor, dead.


    That was enough. It was the waving of the g that gave the Goblins the signal to charge. Even if they were more patient than thest party of Goblins, their anger was still very much the same, and all their good sense was immediately cast aside as they rushed forward, leaping off trees, intent on making their prey pay.


    N shuddered, feeling their killing intent bearing down on her. The Goblins fanned out in front of them, covering 180 degrees of their vision. To her, it was as though the very gates of hell had opened. They didn''t stand a chance. She hurriedly notched another arrow into her bow, but the creatures were moving so rapidly now, ducking behind the trees. She couldn''t line up the shot as she wanted to, and she groaned in frustration.


    The only thing that stood between her and certain death was a single small back and the shining edge of an old knife.


    She trembled in fear, as the first of the Goblins broke away from the trees andunched itself through the air, jabbing towards Beam with its spear.


    ''Heh, so they''re finally using their weapons properly, huh?'' Beam thought, seeing it. He felt his lips curl into a smile as his body ached with anticipation, desperate to show off everything it had learned in this past week''s training with Dominus.


    Beam began with the new move that he''d begun to perfect ¨C misdirection. He stutter-stepped, shifting his weight to his right leg, then left leg, back and forth at rapid speed. Then he lunged, feigning a kick to the leaping Goblin''s midsection. The creature reacted on instinct and twisted to avoid where it knew Beam''s outstretched leg wouldnd. N?v(el)B\\jnn


    But that too was a feint. He turned his feigned kick into a downward step that leant him momentum and he brought his knife down in a vicious arc towards the creature''s neck.


    SHING!


    The sound of perfectly ced steel rushing through even bone. And then the creature''s head fell to the floor with a dull thump.


    It was a disy that even made the Goblins go quiet for a moment.


    N''s mouth hung open in a gasp, shocked at such a disy of skill.


    But Beam''s body felt like it was on fire. The sense ofbat flow that Dominus had fought to instil in him ¨C it raged at him then, urging him to conserve the energy of each movement. Pointing to where the Goblins were weak. And weak the creatures were. Now that he had just one move of his own ¨C albeit a as of yet poorly developed one ¨C his choices of attack were infinitely more than he''d had before. Misdirection was his weapon.


    He spied another Goblin clinging to a tree to his right, then another to his left. The two creatures leapt at the same time. The first threw its spear as it flew, whilst the second held onto it.


    N''s eyes glinted, recognizing the deadly point as it sped towards her, but her body wouldn''t react in time to move out of the way. She''d trained as a hunter, after all ¨C she knew nothing of truebat.


    But a hand sped through the air and snatched the weapon by the handle before it couldnd.


    With the short Goblin spear in one hand and his knife clutched in the other, Beam kept his eyes open wide as he tracked the two Goblins flying through the air towards him. One with a mouth stretched wide and another with a spear ready to pierce him.


    Beam thrust with the short spear, catching the unarmed Goblin through the chest with its own weapon. It was a simple attack, but it was performed with such vicious precision and grace, that it was as though the movement had happened in a single sh. The creature''s body shook from the impact and Beam let go of the weapon to allow it to fall to the ground.


    He then spun on the other Goblin with such contempt, that he almost saw fear in the creature''s eyes.


    "WEAK!" Beam couldn''t help but roar, surprising even himself as he brushed the outstretched point of the Goblins spear aside and hit the creature in the head with the t end of his knife, shattering its skull and sending it pummelling to the floor.


    The adrenaline flowed through him now. A feeling of all-powerfulness, as it tempted him to growcent. But even with the ying of those few Goblins being so easy, the tide of battle was still in the Goblins'' favour, for there were three more of them scurrying through the undergrowth, taking advantage of his attention that had been elsewhere, putting themselves into a better position from attack.


    With such simple foes, Beam found he could sense the tide of battle now. He made a split-second decision and turned on his heel to run, hefting N up on his shoulder as he went.


    She gasped in surprise, but didn''t say anything. Beam liked her for that. She was keeping her head far better than anyone else might in her position.

 Chapter 73 Blades and Blood - Part 4

    Chapter 73 des and Blood - Part 4


    "I''m putting some distance between us and them, keep an eye out for me," Beam said curtly, as he thundered through the trees. With her position on his shoulder, looking behind them, N served as a perfect second set of eyes.


    "Ah! I see them! They''re¡ªWait, they''re falling behind?" N said in shock, surprised that they were managing to outrun the Goblins, even with Beam carrying her.


    "How far? At ten paces, I''m going to put you down and take them out," Beam said, as he jumped to the side to speed past a tree, continuing down a slope.


    "WE''RE ALREADY AT TEN PACES!" N shouted urgently.


    "Good," Beam tossed her from his shoulder and caught her with his arms, setting her down as gently as he could despite the speed that they were at.


    The timing couldn''t have been more perfect, at least to him. They''d just disappeared down a hill, so the Goblin''s line of sight on them was broken. They wouldn''t be expecting a counterattack.


    Sure enough, three angry green creatures flew from the top of the hill, rendering themselves momentarily defenceless. n/o/vel/b//in dot c//om


    An arrow whipped through the air, thudding through another one of the creature''s eyes as it was unable to defend itself.


    Beam didn''t have time to spare N a nce, but he silently nodded in approval. Both arrows that she''dnded had struck the creatures through the eye ¨C this girl was the real deal.


    The other two belonged to him, though. They both grounded themselves, spear in hands, and they sped down the slope, seeking to attack him simultaneously.


    They threw their spears together, aiming for N instead of him.


    Having no time to do anything else, Beam pushed her away from their path and stood in front of her, his knife ready, blocking the follow-up attack.


    These two seemed to learn from the deaths of their brethren, and they didn''tunch themselves into the air despite their anger. Instead, they zigzagged across each other, sticking to the ground, their speedy legs working quickly.


    ''They''re targeting my legs,'' Beam realized as they came in close, both of them lunging for his calves.


    Beam mirrored the kick he''d seen his master do the day before. He caught one of the Goblins behind the ear with it and twisted his hips even more to continue to momentum so that it would hit the other.


    Both beasts went flying, but Beam didn''t stop there. He used the momentum he''d generated from the kick to send himself flying forward, stabbing one Goblin through the back of the neck as it skidded face down on the ground.


    Then he stomped onto the face of the next, forcing it back down as it struggled to its feet. A swift stab through the eye finished it.


    Then, Beam almost made the mistake of rxing.


    "BEAM!" He heard N shout.


    But Beam had already sensed it, just barely. He didn''t have time to curse himself for not paying more attention ¨C he was just pleased that he hadn''t been caughtpletely off guard again.


    From the trees there descended a massive shadow, striking the spot where Beam had been standing just moments before.


    Beam dashed away, carrying N in his arms this time, as he looked over his shoulder towards the menacing Hobgoblin, as its red eyes dted with fury and it locked onto them.


    The creature''s massive leg muscle tensed and then it shot off, sending up a cloud of dirt as it rushed ahead, carrying its giant sword easily with it.


    ''Our speed''s matched!'' Beam realized as they settled into the run. But that wouldn''tst long either. Even though N was light, she was still a weight that weighed heavily on his endurance and as he continued at such a pace, he felt his legs beginning to tire.


    "What the hell is that!?" N shouted in dismay as she looked over his shoulder. They''d achieved the impossible, in her eyes, by ughtering so many Goblins just by themselves. And now, as though all the Gods had turned against them, a creature so menacing that it didn''t evenpare to thest ones had been summoned to punish them.


    "HobGoblin," Beam said through gasping breaths. "Can''t outrun it. Gonna have to¡­ Set you down. Get far enough away that you can help with your bow¡­ I''ll distract it."


    N wanted to scream at his intention to fight it, stating that it was mad. But she couldn''t. She clenched her fist in frustration, tears in her eyes, knowing that it was her that was holding him back. If she wasn''t there, then he would have been able to escape unharmed. She nodded instead, and clutched her bow tightly, assuring herself that she''d find a moment to turn the tides in their favour.


    Beam skidded to a halt as the muddy embankment gave way to several carelessly strewn boulders. He hoped that they''d at least managed to slow the Hobgoblin down.


    He had just enough time to set N down and make sure she was running, before the Hobgoblin tore through the trees with a roar, holding its massive sword in one hand, dering war on every living creature.


    "So that''s what you look like, you bastard," Beam said, eyeing up the creature as it thundered towards him. It was the first time he''d gotten to see the Hobgoblin in true action ¨C before it had been on him before he even knew it was there.


    Seeing it so close, only now could he get a sense for its danger. His whole body coated itself in sweat as he felt the killing intent bearing down upon him.


    Master Dominus had said that such a creature was stronger than a corpse soldier. That it was far beyond him as he was at the moment. Seeing it up close, Beam was inclined to believe him. He had no business at all challenging this creature to a fight ¨C especially not when it was armed as well as this one.

 Chapter 74 Blades and Blood - Part 5

    Chapter 74 des and Blood - Part 5


    Just like the Hobgoblin before it, this creature bore a cruel-looking greatsword. If anything, this one looked to be a higher quality de than thest. Thest was just a crude lump of steel, more suited to bludgeoning than to slicing. This de, though, seemed to still retain some of its sharpness.


    Beam dared to put himself in the way of the charging creature, his knife at the ready, looking small and useless whenpared to the creature''s weapon.


    It bore down upon him with a roar, making the earth thunder with each step. The two of them were about the same height, but that was where the simrities ended.


    It dealt a vicious horizontal sh, wielding such a massive de with a single hand as though it weighed nothing to it at all.


    Beam just barely stepped back out of reach, but it still pierced his shirt and left a shallow wound on his chest, drawing a line of red blood.


    Whilst he didn''t have time to think, Beam knew he couldn''t let a single hitnd. Just one blow would be the end of him. The creature was truly monstrous.


    After that shing attack, there came another, as the Hobgoblin bellowed in dismay and swung at him crudely once more, making the air rush from the speed in which it brought that chunk of steel through the air.


    This time the blow came diagonally, down towards Beam''s shoulder, looking to split it in two.


    Beam attempted to stutter step, to use his recently acquired misdirection prowess to throw the creature off. He feigned to the left, then the right, then ended up towards the left again, trying to close the distance between him and the monster, attempting tond a single attack of his own.


    But as well as strength, the creature even seemed slightly more intelligent than its Goblin brethren. It saw through Beam''s feint and aimed its attack perfectly towards where he was heading.


    Beam panicked, seeing that he was running into his own death. His bnce was against him, dragging him forward, into the path of the de. He just barely twisted, letting the sword run up his back instead, leaving another shallow wound.


    He rolled to temporary safety, and he felt his shirt open up behind him, the cloth falling down in front of him, threatening to tangle his arms.


    With a swift motion, he tore it off himself, holding it in his left hand as a secondary distraction whilst he held the knife in the right. n/o/vel/b//in dot c//om


    The Hobgoblin didn''t let Beam rest, seeming to know just how badly Beam needed to, as the boy''s chest heaved up and down and blood ran across his torso from the two different shes.


    It came in with its sword again, making the fullest use of its reach, as it slid a second hand onto the hilt of the de and sent the sword flying in another horizontal sh, even faster than the one before.


    Beam tossed his shirt towards its eyes, obscuring its vision. It wasn''t misdirection so much as justpletely blinding his enemy, but Beam was satisfied with that. He saw that his attack had achieved its purpose, for the creature roared in frustration and Beam dared to slide under the path of the speeding sword.


    The de passed overhead, taking a few hairs from the top of his head. Beam was in close now and he made the fullest use of the opportunity. He brought his knife down the creature''s calf, invoking a bellow of dismay from it, as it managed to free itself from the shirt and send a kick straight into Beam''s stomach.


    "Gagh!" Beam went rolling across the clearing, coughing blood and the Hobgoblin went storming after him.


    Despite his best efforts, the wound on the creature''s calf had been shallow. It seemed impossible to Beam that a living being''s flesh could feel so tough. It felt like he was trying to cut through ayer of malleable wood rather than thin, flexible skin.


    The creature kicked Beam again before he could recover properly, sending him sprawling even further away from N.


    She''d managed to cover a good bit of distance, as she ran with tears in her eyes, hearing the roars of the fight behind her. She could have just run all the way home from there ¨C Beam had likely bought enough time for her to escape. But she wouldn''t allow herself to. She turned to ready her bow, and gasped at what she saw.


    Beam had managed to scramble his way back to his feet and roll away from the monstrous blow of the sword that hade crashing his way, sending up a cloud of dirt as itnded.


    He was in such a state, N saw. He''d lost his shirt, and blood ran all over his upper body from several wounds.


    It wasn''t just the wounds of the Hobgoblin that she saw, either. It was all the various scars that decorated his body from several years in very. She saw the cruel lines left by the whip and the scar on his belly and back that had been left by a spear. In short, what she saw were the residues of a life filled with suffering.


    And yet the boy fought. He fought as though without fear, facing off against a monster that no other man in the vige could take. He fought as though losing and retreating was worse than death. He fought like he meant to conquer, like he couldn''t stand a beast in front of him that dared not submit to his wrath.


    N pulled back her bowstring and cleared her head, looking for her opportunity.


    The fight was frantic. The two of them, boy and monster, darted through the trees in a battle so dynamic it was difficult to track with just the eyes. And yet there seemed to be some rule to the boy''s rolls, to where he dodged and to where hended when the beast managed to slip a blow past his guard. It was almost as if he was purposefully luring the Hobgoblin to where there were fewer trees, to give N the best chance atnding a shot.

 Chapter 75 Blades and Blood - Part 6

    Chapter 75 des and Blood - Part 6


    She would not let his opportunity go to waste. Just as the Hobgoblinnded another crippling blow with its fist, she unleashed her arrow, timing it perfectly so that the creature wouldn''t have time to dodge.


    Beam noted it too as it flew through the air. He could sense it flying. Just as had happened yesterday with the boomeranging stick that he used to try to get the best of his master, he used the opening offered by the arrow to attempt an attack of his own.


    He positioned himself well, so that the arrow was charging from directly behind the Hobgoblin, whilst Beam stood in front.


    Even his face was a mess of blood by now, from the numerous blows he had endured and the numerous times he had been sent flying through the air. He spat blood from his lip as he slid into a fighting stance and his mouth curled into a smile.


    He could sense it in the air. For the first time in the fight, the flow had finally shifted in his direction. It was only the barest of whispers. Only a tiny thread that connected him to victory ¨C but Beam could feel it gently urging him onwards. He used what he had dedicated the past week to ¨C his misdirection training. He recalled his master''s words, about understanding the intent of an opponent, about seeing the world as he saw it.


    And by now Beam was beginning to understand just how a Goblin saw the world. Anger was the emotion that guided it, that lent strength to its every action. An overbearing animosity towards all of humanity. That was its greatest strength and its biggest weakness.


    Beam sought to turn that weakness into blindness. There was a rock by his foot ¨C he lunged for it, and threw it with all his strength towards the creature''s face.


    The Hobgoblin shattered it with a fist, but the flecks of rubble still hit it anyway. Hardly damaging it at all, but angering it immensely.


    It bellowed an angry roar, grinding its fangs together. But Beam was already closing the distance between them now, and the arrow was a mere instant away fromnding.


    Beam slid under the sword that was rushing his way, even faster than he had managed it before. And as he saw the arrow go for the Hobgoblin''s ear, Beam went for the exposed tendons of its hand ¨C a hand that was so close by now that Beam could breathe on it.


    With a sh, he inflicted his wound. The tendons felt like steel wire as he cut into them, but in his strike, he''d put in enough strength topensate for that. He felt his de run through them and he saw a spurt of green blood as the attacknded home.


    The arrow was closing in as well, Beam watched with satisfaction as it proceeded to bury itself in the Hobgoblin''s green ear.


    Yet, in a sh, there was a mound of flesh in the way, preventing it from striking its skull. Instead, it ran shallowly into the meat of its palm, provoking a roar of annoyance, but not yet dealing true harm.


    "Shit," was all Beam had time to say, as the creature rounded on him.


    With its single hand ¨C a hand now run through by an arrow ¨C it gripped its sword and brought down an angry strike from overhead.


    Beam dodged left, attempting to put distance between him and the Hobgoblin again, but where he went, the sword followed, supported by its massive reach.


    Beam jumped to the side, in onest desperate effort at avoiding it ¨C but his leg was still left there to receive the very tip of the blow.


    "GAHHHH!" He cried out, as he felt the de sh down the length of his thigh, before burying itself in the earth.


    He gritted his teeth against the pain and desperately crawled across the forest floor towards safety, but the Hobgoblin was not inclined to let him live.


    It sauntered over to him, relishing its victory.


    The smell of victory had disappeared entirely, Beam realized. His one attack, his one moment where the Hobgoblin showed an opening ¨C all he''d been able to do was make one of its hands useless, and that was in return for his own leg.


    He clenched his fist in frustration, not willing to lose like this.


    The sword blow came from the side this time, a contemptuous horizontal sh, aiming to sever Beam''s neck.


    Beam watched it, intent on dodging at thest second. He tried to run strength through his legs like he usually might, to generate just enough speed to set him to safety. Yet, with the muscle on his left leg so wounded, his body didn''t respond like it should, and his jumpnded short, sending him straight into the path of the approaching de.


    There was the sound of steel slicing through flesh and bone and then a thud, as a head fell to the floor. One more dead Hobgoblin.


    Beam saw Dominus'' back, as he cut the Hobgoblin down, his sword at his side, having justpleted a single elegant sh that Beam hadn''t even been able to see.


    Chapter 9 ¨C The Cruelty of The Gods


    "You really did a number on yourself, huh?" Dominus said, as he sheathed his sword, not even sparing the Hobgoblin corpse next to him a single nce.


    Beam groaned, pushing himself to his feet, trying to stand back up despite the wound on his leg. He managed it ¨C but he could hardly put any weight on the wounded leg. It was far worse than he''d expected. Dominus noted it too.


    "Mm, you''re going to need stitches in that. Be rough going for a couple of weeks," Dominus told him, ncing at the wound.


    "Guhh," Beam gasped with pain as he used a tree to support himself. "I failed again. How much did you see?" n/o/vel/b//in dot c//om


    Dominus shrugged. "Most of it. I saw you engage the first of the Goblins and tracked you down to here¡­ Looking at your leg, I should have intervened far earlier."

 Chapter 76 The Cruelty of The Gods - Part 1

    Chapter 76 The Cruelty of The Gods - Part 1


    Beam bit his lip, the reality of his defeat setting in. An emotion he hated bubbled up and ate at him. "Damn it," he cursed, as he forced himself to deal with it.


    "Heh, you really are trash, aren''t yad?" Dominus said, but his smile as he said it didn''t quite match his words. He put his hand on Beam''s head and ruffled his scruffy hair. "To be honest, watching you there, for a second, I thought you might go all the way. You have no reason to be bitter about this defeat ¨C you fought an enemy you had no business fighting, and you even managed a good attempt atplete victory. Frankly, I''m stunned. Seeing you make such progress in just a week ¨C it''s frankly unnatural. You should be pleased with yourself,d."


    Indeed, when he''d arrived and he''d seen Beam''sst charge ¨C he''d been sure he had it. Dominus was a man with such a wealth of experience under his belt, that seeing the conclusion of a Second Boundary conflict moves in advance was far from being a difficult feat.


    What he''d seen as Beam charged the Hobgoblin was something overwhelming. A depth of roaring potential that drove forward like a spear. A frightening inferno that had finally been allowed to catch fire, fuelled by the countless hot coals of suffering Beam had built up¡­ And yet, more suffering still awaited the boy.


    With him sending his own potential forth so freely, Ingolsol''s curse and udia''s blessing had moved too. They each fought to pull his de in a different direction. udia, with herpassion, sought to protect Beam from Ingolsol, and the blessing moved with such intentions ¨C but with the way it had been adhered to the edge of Beam''s soul in such a flimsy connection, it rendered the blessing just as destructive as Ingolsol''s curse.


    And Ingolsol too had sought to guide Beam''s de in his own direction, a long a more manic and chaotic route. Ultimately, Beam had been able to overpower both those urges, but the cost to his sword had been great and he was unable to inflict anywhere near the damage necessary to kill the Hobgoblin.


    For a boy who had only just begun training the sword, to truly be in range of such a certain victory ¨C that was an Arthur-level talent. Only, to equal that, he had an Arthur-level problem to solve.


    But even receiving his master''s praise, it did not lessen Beam''s pain. He felt tears cloud his eyes. "It hurts¡­" he said quietly, grasping at his heart.


    "Your leg?" Dominus asked. "Yeah, I''d expect it does."


    "No¡­ Losing," Beam told him, as he sniffled, wing at his chest. The feeling of defeat felt like hot lead running through his blood. It was so unbearable he could hardly stand. "I was so close¡­ I could feel it. But I messed up. I failed again."


    "Eh?" Dominus was taken aback by that, seeing the boy''s tears fall down his cheek. He knew that Beam had hated losing, but he didn''t know quite how bad. ''Heh¡­'' he thought to himself, shaking his head. ''He''s a strange kid alright.''


    "C''mon, boy, cheer up. You lived ¨C that''s the important thing. Now you''ve got a chance to try again. A bit more training and you''ll get there, I reckon," Dominus said.


    "I''ll do it for my swordsmanship test," Beam said, sniffing. N?v(el)B\\jnn


    "You''re really set on making things harder for yourself, huh?" Dominus asked, not entirely understanding. But this time, unlike the week before, he didn''t dismiss his pupil''s proposal entirely. "Fine, if you''re so set on that being your test, we''ll say it is. But remember that it''s you who set that burden ¨C you who gave your word. If you fail again, then I won''t be taking you as my apprentice."


    "Will we be able to find another one?" Beam asked. "I thought Hobgoblins were rare."


    "I''ll find you one, if necessary," Dominus said, taking a nce at the corpse. "But¡­ I have a feeling another one might crop up. There''s something unnatural going on here," he said, as he picked up the Hobgoblin''s discarded greatsword. "This is too fine a weapon for a Goblin to just stumble upon," he murmured to himself.


    Beam listened without fully understanding, thinking more of the future, of how he''d make sure he would beat the Hobgoblin at the next opportunity he got. That was when N chose to approach.


    "Wipe your face, boy," Dominus said, jabbing him with an elbow, "the girl''se to see you."


    N looked to Dominus cautiously as she approached, and so Dominus took a few steps away to leave her and Beam alone.


    "¡­Your leg," she said, her voice softer than Beam had ever heard it, tinged with an emotion that sounded like regret.


    "It''s not as bad as it looks. I think if I get it stitched up, it''ll be alright in a few days," Beam said, hoping that his own words were true. In truth, in his head, he was nning to immediately get back to training as soon as he woke up in the morning, but he had the sense not to mention that to anyone worried about him.


    "My mother can stitch it," N murmured, looking at the ground. When she looked up, she saw both Dominus and Beam ncing at her and she waved her hands as she hurriedly tried to exin. "She works with thread, y''see¡­ and she was always stitching up my dad when he hurt himself. But I guess you''ll be able to look after it yourself¡­" she trailed off awkwardly, not really knowing what to say.


    "As a matter of fact, I just so happen to becking a needle and thread," Dominus said, a mischievous smile on his lips. "If you could tend to the boy''s wounds, I''d be grateful."


    N looked at Dominus as he spoke, his eyes peeking out from under his straw hat. To her, he was just a stranger ¨C one that she''d seen about town once or twice. But now she could sense the murky force of mystery emanating off him, just as she had started to with Beam.

 Chapter 77 The Cruelty of The Gods - Part 2

    Chapter 77 The Cruelty of The Gods - Part 2


    Dominus caught her gaze, and added another little condition. "Ah, and if you would keep what has happened here today a secret, for the most part, it would make my life easier," Dominus said with a gentle smile. "Of course, I do not mind you sharing your victory over the Goblins ¨C that is your glory. I merely ask that you do not mention the appearance of the Hobgoblin, if you can, nor mine own involvement."


    "Uhm¡­ Okay," N nced towards Beam, before reluctantly agreeing. n/?/vel/b//in dot c//om


    "Well, Beam, do you feel up to a walk back into the vige?" Dominus asked.


    Beam nodded. "I need to fill up the sled and bring some wood back with me."


    "Not a chance." Dominus said.


    "Are you stupid!? Look at your leg! There''s no way you''re doing that," N shouted straight after him.


    "But I told your mother that I would¡­" Beam tried to say awkwardly. "Besides, someone will take the sled if I leave it out in the middle of the forest."


    "I will take care of the sled," Dominus told him, before producing a sack from behind his back and handing it to Beam. "These are the heads of the Goblins you slew. Take them to Greeves whilst you''re in the vige. Girl, keep an eye on him and make sure he doesn''t overexert himself. Those heads are heavier than they look."


    And they were indeed. Beam could feel his shoulder already begin to ache as he felt the weight of a sack filled with seven Goblin heads.


    N nodded. "I''ll keep an eye on him, sir," she said respectfully, not sure quite how polite she should be to the mysterious man.


    He too nodded in reply, so she figured her politeness must have been enough. "Don''t make those wounds worse, boy, as you go. Really, you shouldn''t be moving at all, but you had better use this chance to take care of things in the vige before the swelling sets in. Inform them that you will not be around for a while."


    Beam didn''t rush to agree. He wasn''t nning on stopping anything, despite his wounds. He figured that he''d be able to push through the pain and go at the same pace that he was. "¡­Yes, master," he said quietly.


    At those words, Dominus vanished back amongst the trees, leaving Beam and N where they were, deep within the forest, nearly an hour''s walk back to the vige.


    "Let''s get going then," Beam said, striding forward, only to immediately cry out in pain, as he attempted to put weight on his wounded leg. "Gah!" He shouted, hopping onto his other leg, trying to strike a bnce that would at least make the pain more tolerable.


    N watched worriedly. "Are you really going to be able to make it back?"


    "I''ll be fine," Beam assured her through gritted teeth, as he worked to ustom himself to the pain now that the adrenaline was working off. "How about you? Has the wound on your hand stopped bleeding?"


    N looked at her hand nkly as they started to walk. She''d forgotten that she''d even hurt it. The wound looked shallow and trivial now, when shepared it to Beam and his body covered with scars and open cuts. She hid it under her sleeve and shook her head. "Stupid. You''re in a way worse state than me."


    "Heh," Beam said, as he moved along, limping heavily and using the trees to support him. Truthfully, he could hardly stop thinking about his battle with the Hobgoblin and the bitterness of defeat still burned through him. But he was reluctant to show such emotion in front of N. Besides, the assurance that he''d get another chance at victory in a couple of weeks did much to ease the pain. He clenched his fist, absolutely certain that he would win next time.


    "Who was that, by the way?" N asked, after a few minutes of walking on the trail.


    "My master. I don''t know if he''ll want me to tell you who he really is. He seems to be strangely secretive," Beam told her throughboured breaths as he struggled to continue walking.


    "Hmm¡­" N said thoughtfully. "What about you?"


    "What do you mean, ''what about you?''"


    "Who are you? You''re not the firewood collector I thought you were¡­ Besides, how did you know how to fight those Goblins? What are those scars on your body?" She paused a moment to recover her breath as she fired question after question. "¡­Why did you risk your life, just to help me? You were a hair away from dying there¡­ If not for your master¡­ You really would have." She asked, as tears returned to her eyes and emotion choked her voice. "We''re just strangers¡­ aren''t we?"


    Beam didn''t hear the fear in her voice. In truth, he was struggling to stay conscious as he forced his way through the woods, every step a true effort. Sweat coated his brow and fresh blood kept oozing its way out of the cut on his leg. Dizziness had been with him a while. He didn''t have much thought to give his answer, for it took all his effort merely to move forwards.


    "I dunno¡­ I just wouldn''t have liked it¡­ If you''d been killed when I could have helped you. I think. I wouldn''t want to see your face in my dreams¡­ And be reminded of how weak I was," he said.


    N nced at him, hearing his words filled with such suffering. He spoke like a boy who''d had such things happen to him before. She wanted to ask, but she dared not. Even if he had saved her, they were still strangers. He hadn''t saved her out of any special feelings for her, after all.


    "Hey, are you managing?" She asked, noticing his swaying was getting worse.


    Beam stumbled a secondter, falling against a tree.


    "Gods!" She shouted in worry, running after him. His skin felt so cold as she grabbed him, only serving to worry her even more. "Beam! Beam!" She called to him, holding his head to make sure that he was still awake.

 Chapter 78 The Cruelty of The Gods - Part 3

    Chapter 78 The Cruelty of The Gods - Part 3


    He blinked at her in owlish confusion, as though not understanding quite what had happened. "Sorry," he said in a hoarse voice that made it sound like he was seconds away from death already.


    She nced at the wound on his leg, and pulled apartthe severed cloth of his trouser leg so she could see it better. She gasped at the sight of it and bit her lip. He shouldn''t have been walking at all. It needed stitching immediately. Blood was flowing freely from the wound as it struggled to clot.


    But there was nothing they could do until they reached the vige. At best, they were twenty minutes away from her house. N?v(el)B\\jnn


    "Beam," she said anxiously, but firmly. "We need to keep moving, Beam. It''s too cold for you to be out here with no shirt on, and your leg needs stitching straight away ¨C if you lose any more blood, it''ll be dangerous."


    "I got it, sorry," Beam said, using a tree to climb to his feet again.


    N watched, shaking her head. "You have no idea the state your body is in, do you? Here, let me take those. And use my shoulder. We can''t have you copsing again."


    "Sorry," Beam said again, his forehead wrinkled in frustration. He hesitated to put his arm over her offered shoulder. "I''m going to get blood on your stuff¡­"


    "Idiot," she said, barging him so he had no choice but to fall on her anyway. "As if I''m going toin about a little blood after you saved my life. Here, let me take those as well," she said, reaching out for the bag.


    As soon as she put her fingers around the bag and Beam allowed her the full weight, she felt her arm be pulled to the floor. "Heavy¡­" She groaned, ncing at Beam again. "Just how strong are you?"


    He really didn''t look like much, in that small little body of his. Even if his muscles were hard and lean, they were rtively small, he didn''t look like he''d be able to lift enormous weight. And yet he''d hefted all these heads by himself, without a singleint and without even both legs to support him.


    "I think it''s only natural for a boy, right?" Beam said. "C''mon, I can at least carry them. Having you to lean on is enough. I reckon I could walk a good few miles like this."


    Reluctantly, she handed the bag back, knowing that she''d only slow them down if she argued. "Please don''t copse again," she begged. "If you need to, we can take a break."


    "I won''t," Beam promised, carefully feeling his way forward as he leaned some of his weight onto N. He found her to be a more reliable shoulder than he had expected, and he was surprised by how pleasant she smelled too. He turned away, irritated with himself for noticing.


    Eventually, they managed to break their way through the tree line, thanks to N''s support. Beam had a hard time keeping his eyes open at this point, from the blood loss. But at the same time, since he was putting less weight on his hurt leg, he could feel that the blood was drying somewhat and clotting, slowing down the rate at which he was losing blood.


    They slid behind the rest of the houses, towards the outskirts of the vige to the west, where N''s family lived.


    N knocked on the locked door, calling out to her mother as she still supported Beam with her shoulder.


    A quick nce at the sky told her that it was midday. Around this time, she should have been home preparing lunch for her and her sister. She prayed to all the Gods that her mother''s routine had not changed that day.


    And at least one God must have been listening, for her mother soon had the door open, the smile that she wore on her face as she was about to greet them soon faded, as she saw the state of Beam and his bare torso covered in blood and scars.


    "Oh goodness¡­" She said quietly. "Get him inside," she said, before even asking her what happened. It was moments like these that her mother let her true life experience show. Often times, she seemed airheaded and ditzy, as though she constantly needed someone to look after her. But in times of peril, N knew that she could rely on her.


    N nodded, helping Beam down the steps into the house. Her brother and sister stared with wide eyes at the bloodied body brought into the room. N lowered him into a chair, and Beam sat there, struggling to keep his eyes open.


    "His leg, mother," N said urgently. "He got cut bad on his leg. I think he''s lost a lot of blood, but I''m not sure how much."


    "I understand. Let me see to it," her mother said, returning with a needle and thread from her sewing kit. "Warm some water over the fire and get me a cloth to clean him with. Get the honey from the winter storage too."


    "Sorry for intruding, ma''am," Beam said weakly, as he sat there, half delirious.


    "Sssh, nonsense sweetie," she said, "you just keep talking to me, okay? Keep yourself awake whilst I get you all stitched up, okay?"


    "Got it," Beam said. "About the¡­ firewood¡­ I had to leave it¡­ I''ll see that you get it next week attest."


    N shared a nce with her mother, and shook her head. "He was going to try and bring it back, despite the state he''s in. Some people really need other people to look after them, I guess."


    She brought over a bowl of water that had already been heating on the fire. It seemed her mother had just been about to prepare food with it and it was already more than warm. She stuck a cloth in it and offered it to her mum.


    "Can I cut your trousers here, dear?" Her mum asked, as she struggled to get a better view of the wound on Beam''s leg. "I can stitch it back togetherter for you."

 Chapter 79 The Cruelty of The Gods - Part 4

    Chapter 79 The Cruelty of The Gods - Part 4


    "Nah¡­ It''s fine¡­ I needed to get some new clothes anyway," Beam said, his eyelids closing for half a second, but reopening again once N squeezed his hand.


    At his instructions, N''s mother cut his leg. That fact that she didn''t gasp upon seeing the amount of blood that stained his calf was evidence of her experience in treating the wounded.


    "Mama, what''s happening? Is he dying?" A little boy asked, his little sister peering curiously over his shoulder.


    "Hush now, David. If you want to help, can you go and find me the honey that N forgot to bring?" Thedy said.


    N grimaced at that, only just realizing that she''d forgotten. Seeing that, her mother reassured her. "Don''t worry, I need your help ¨C can you clean the blood around the wound as best you can? I need to stitch it."


    N nodded and after soaking her rag in the pot of warm water, she began dabbing at the area around the room, continually looking up at Beam''s face to see if she was hurting him. But he betrayed no reaction. He merely gave her a drained smile. "Thank you," he said, so quietly that it could have been the whisper of the wind.


    N felt herself tearing up again as she looked at him. It was a terrible burden. If he died now, after saving her, she''d live with it for the rest of her days, she knew. She''d remember his face and curse herself.


    "That''s perfect, I''m going to begin stitching now, okay?" N''s mother said, having threaded her needle. "This is going to hurt a bit, but bear with it, if you can. Try not to move too much ¨C I''ll finish it up soon enough."


    Beam nodded, clenching his fingers around the hands of the chair. The wood creaked from the pressure. And in went the needle and out again. N watched, her heart in her stomach, as she expected to see the pain run across his face. But he looked so calm, so peaceful, that it was worrying. N had to continually reassure herself that he hadn''t died yet. N?v(el)B\\jnn


    "Goodness¡­ You take pain like no one I''ve ever seen," N''s mother said, as she put in thest of her stitches and tied it off so that it wouldn''te undone.


    "Is it done?" Beam asked.


    N nodded, and he breathed a sigh of relief. "Guess I''ll live then," he said.


    "Hah... You sure know how to worry people," N told him off with a smile.


    David returned a momentter and offered up a pot of honey to his mother. "Mamma," he said, reaching up with it to get her attention.


    "Thank you," she said, taking it with a smile. Then she turned to Beam. "I''m going to clean out your wounds and run honey through them, okay? It''ll keep out infection and help them seal back up a little quicker."


    "I''ll pay you back for it ¨C but thank you," Beam said, knowing just how expensive honey could be.


    N shook her head. "Stupid. Let us at least do this much. You saved my life, after all."


    Her mother turned her head at thatment, her face betraying a question. N answered it before it was asked. "Goblins," she exined. "I went off to hunt a deer and got attacked by Goblins. Beam came and saved me once I shouted for help."


    She saw her mother pale as she told her story. "Goblins?" She repeated, turning to Beam. "Goodness¡­ No wonder you''re in such a state. How many of them were there?"


    "Seven," N said.


    "SEVEN!?" Her mother shouted. After all the calm she had shown up till now, that ridiculous number broke her cool. "The two of you managed to get away from seven Goblins? All by yourselves?"


    N nodded seriously, reassuring her mother that it was no word of a lie. "It was Beam, mostly. He drew the worst of their attack. I managed to get two with an arrow, but Beam took out the rest of them."


    It was only then that her mother seemed to notice the sack they''d been carrying and she dared to pause her work to peek inside. "Seven¡­ Not only did you survive an attack from seven Goblins¡­ you killed them all?" She looked at Beam in a renewed light, before nodding to herself twice.


    "David," she said, turning to her youngest. "Go and take your sister Stephanie and get me the second jar of honey ¨C Beam will be needing it to change his dressings."


    She then turned to Beam with renewed seriousness. There was such an intensity in her eyes, that Beam almost felt scared. He might even have looked away, had he not seen the tears beginning to form in the corner of her eyes.


    "¡­Thank you," she said quietly. Though few in words, those words contained more than enough emotion to get across their meaning and she took the cloth from N to continue cleaning the rest of the blood off Beam''s torso.


    N watched her mother work, feeling her heart ache as she felt her mother''s gratefulness. ''If I had died¡­ It would have broken her,'' she realized, finally understanding the worth of her life. More than just her, in saving her life, Beam had saved her entire family from the suffering that would havee with her death.


    From her mother''s perspective, he''d done a hero''s work. He''d stood up against seven Goblins basically alone and he''d put his body on the line to do so. There wasn''t a single other man in the vige that could have achieved such a feat ¨C perhaps except Judas. The number of wounds he received seemed to tell the story of his struggle.


    But it wasn''t that, and N couldn''t tell her. The boy had managed to ughter the Goblins with hardly a scratch. It was a Hobgoblin that did that to him. A Hobgoblin that he''d managed to wound.


    It was too incredible a feat for such a small vige.


    Beam sat there, his eyes half-zed, looking by all rights as dead as a dead man should be. Yet he sat there with a calm and contented smile on his lips. It was strange for N to see. He must have been in agonising pain. Yet, even covered in blood as he was, he sat like an old tomcat warming himself in the sun.

 Chapter 80 The Cruelty of The Gods - Part 5

    Chapter 80 The Cruelty of The Gods - Part 5


    His odd behaviour did little to assuage her worries ¨C for by her eyes, it made him look even closer to death.


    Hurriedly she began to clean the rest of his blood from his leg, eyeing up the cuts on his torso as she did so, to make sure there were no serious ones that had escaped her notice.


    Her mother smiled at her, watching her work. "To think that you''d ever tend to a boy," she said, shing her the sunniest smile N had seen in a while.


    With how emotional she''d been for the past few hours, such a thing caught her off guard, and she couldn''t help blushing where normally she might have merely frowned. "S-stop!" She said weakly, unable to think of a good response.


    N''s mother giggled to herself as she patted Beam on the shoulder. "I''ll fetch you some of my husband''s old clothes ¨C you can''t be going out like that in this weather."


    "¡­Thank you," Beam said, his face finally looking as though something pained him.


    "Sorry, am I hurting you?" N asked, as she cleaned her cloth again in the bowl of warm water and dabbed at him more carefully.


    "It''s not that¡­ I''m just unused to such hospitality. I don''t know how I''m going to be able to pay you back," Beam said, awkwardly scratching his cheek.


    N sighed a long sigh. "You''re so difficult. You''re making it harder on me, now. Can''t you see that me and my mother are grateful for what you did? Just ept that we want to pay you back, idiot."


    Beam winced as N cleaned around his stitches with a little more aggression than she had intended to. "Ah, sorry," she said, realising her mistake.


    "Do these look like they''ll fit?" Her mother called out from the other side of the room as she searched through a chest. N felt a pang in her heart as she saw her father''s old clothes. "Ah¡­ They seem a little big. But I suppose as long as they keep you warm, that''s the main thing."


    N''s mother looked at her carefully, as though expecting her to protest that she was giving her father''s clothes away. And ordinarily, of course, N would have. They were one of the few things that still tied her to her dead father. But not today. How could she? The boy had saved her life. She owed him far more than a measly few clothes, and she was well aware of that.


    "Sit up dear, I''ll start cleaning your back," N''s mother said, finding another cloth to soak in the bucket of warm water that N was using. N?v(el)B\\jnn


    Beam pulled himself up, the chair creaking as he did. It felt like a monumental task in that moment. His muscles ached from it. And that was without mentioning what felt like a thousand cuts stinging the surface of his skin.


    N moved on to clean his chest as well, and Beam felt even more awkward as she came so close. What had been a pleasant distance from reality that he''d felt earlier ¨C from blood loss, and the warm feeling of death being so close ¨C had started fading and he became hyper-aware of the situation he was in.


    Her hair brushed his skin as she worked, and the feminine scent of a woman invaded his nostrils. Their eyes met for a second as she looked up from her work, and from her face, Beam could see that she looked as awkward as he felt. He dared to close his eyes, making the experience a little easier on his fragile heart.


    "You''ve had your share of pain, haven''t you?" He heard N''s mother whisper as she traced the scars on his back with her finger.


    Beam didn''t say anything. There was nothing he could say.


    "There, done," N pronounced, "I''ll start working in the honey now, right mother?"


    N''s mother nced at Beam''s front. "My my. She''s gotten you quite clean, hasn''t she Beam? Mm, yes, I would think you can start running the honey through now. Be gentle though, okay?"


    N frowned at the warning to be gentle. She knew she wasn''t exactly known for being gentle. She knew that people saw her as something of a tomboy. But even she wasn''t clumsy enough to hurt the wounded. Especially not the wounded that she owed so much to.


    The two of them together began dressing thest of Beam''s wounds, as Beam sat there in a daze, half tempted to fall asleep.


    After the honey, they cleaned off his body again with their cloths, making sure any of the blood that had leaked out during the dressing process was long gone.


    "And now for your shirt, put your arms up," N''s mother said with a smile.


    But Beam was hesitant. "Are you really sure? It''s going to get ruined from my cuts."


    "Nonsense," she said, "it wasn''t doing anything being tucked away in the chest like that. If someone can get some use out of it, then I''m sure everyone is happier, no?"


    Beam looked to N, not feeling entirely convinced.


    "Just put the shirt on, stupid," N said, exasperated, grabbing the shirt from her mother and putting Beam''s head through it.


    "Ah! Be gentle!" Her mother warned, as she helped get his arms through.


    "I know that¡­" N said huffily, as she did the other side. "There, done."


    It was indeed a little big, Beam realized instantly, as the shirt hung down nearly to his knees. But the warmth it offered was well worth it. Beam hadn''t realized he''d been so cold until he finally had something to keep the heat in.


    "Thanks," he said, looking down on himself.


    "Now for your trousers," N''s mother stated, holding up a pair of woollen trousers that would be way too big for Beam. "N, you''re going to have to change him with me. He won''t be able to move himself, after all."


    Like that, Beam was on his feet before he knew what was happening, shaking his hands urgently in front of him as he fended them off. "Nope! I''m fine for trousers, thank you. You''ve already given me too much."

 Chapter 81 The Cruelty of The Gods - Part 6

    Chapter 81 The Cruelty of The Gods - Part 6


    He didn''t look very convincing as a small trail of blood broke free from the wound on his leg and made it down his shin. Both women now bore the unmistakable visages of anger.


    "WHAT ARE YOU DOING, IDIOT!? ARE YOU GOING TO UNDO ALL OUR HARD WORK?" N shouted, attempting to shove him back in the chair.


    "N ¨C be gentle," her mother cautioned, but from the stern look on her face, she was equally of the same opinion.


    Beam grabbed N''s hand as she pushed, holding her tightly, knowing that he''d struggle to maintain his bnce. His expression, for the first time in hours, returned to one of the utmost seriousness. "I''m sorry¡­ After you put so much time into fixing me up ¨C but I need to go. I have to see Greeves and I have to get back to the forest before sundown."


    "You''re not going to stay..?" N''s mother asked, tilting her head. "But you can''t walk anywhere like that, can you? You''ll tear your stitches out."


    N bit her lip, thinking the same. But she could tell that Beam was deadly serious, and though she wanted to say that he should rest, she knew that he wouldn''t listen. She stared at the hand that was holding hers, feeling the rough calluses of his palm scratching her skin.


    "He''s got to go, mother," she said, "otherwise he''ll get in trouble. I''ll walk him back and make sure he doesn''t push himself too much."


    Her mother shook her head in worry. "Both of you ¨C this is too much. He''s already lost so much blood. If he keeps walking around like he has, he really will be in danger this time, you know?"


    "Your stitches will keep me well," Beam told her gently. "I''ll be back here in a week''s time to help you with your firewood. Thank you for all the help you''ve given me."


    But that seemed to be of nofort to N''s mother, as she just kept shaking her head, looking like she would cry. "That''s foolishness, Beam. You''ll be lucky if you can walk after a month ¨C a week will be impossible. Don''t worry about us. We''ll be able to manage just off the first load of wood that you gave us."


    Beam didn''t say anything. That was a time frame that was simply uneptable to him. Even if he had to spend every day on the edge of death as he walked covered in blood, he had to recover his movement, and soon. There was a test he had toplete, one more important than his life.


    As he stood there, waiting for N and her mother to finish their conversation, his thoughts fell to his master.


    He reached for the bag of Goblin heads that had been discarded by his chair, picking them up easily. Even though it had barely been an hour, he felt better than he had before, now that his blood wasn''t leaving his body quite so freely. He knew that was more a psychological improvement than a physical one ¨C because there was no way his blood would have been restored so soon ¨C but with it, he felt sure that he''d be able to finish up with his tasks in town.


    As he stood there, waiting for N and her mother to finish their conversation, his thoughts fell to his master.


    Despite the toll it had put on him, his master had made him walk to the vige for his stitches. With just a single nce, the man had been able to tell that whilst serious, the wound would not kill him. And with that order, he gave Beam opportunity ¨C the opportunity to receive a hospitality that he wasn''t sure even existed in the world.


    For a boy that merely two weeks before had no allies to his name, and who did not trust a single person, the warmth that this family had given him shone a light on his darkened soul. It showed him what his master had been attempting to teach him ¨C the importance of a good reputation. The importance of having people that you could rely on. n/?/vel/b//in dot c//om


    It made him clench his fist. ''I have to get stronger,'' he told himself. So he could protect people like this. So he wouldn''t be such a burden. And, more importantly, so that he wouldn''t lose again. Two losses against one creature ¨C that was far too many for his liking, and though he contained it well, his blood boiled and it ached for progress.


    "Shall we go then, Beam?" N asked, offering her shoulder as she finished talking to her mother. Beam nodded and epted her help, leaning some of his weight onto her so that he would not ruin the stitching.


    "Take good care of yourself, Beam," her mother said as he left, her face the very picture of worry. Beam nodded resolutely, swearing to himself that he''d recover quickly, and make sure that this family couldfortably make it through the winter.


    "Thank you," he said again as they left. N closed the door after them with a sigh.


    "Do you not know how to say anything else?" She said wearily, the tiredness showing on her face. "Honestly, what a day this has been."


    The two of them trudged down the road into the vige centre, as people spared them curious nces. N with her bright red hair wild behind her head, and Beam with half a trouser leg cut off and his terrible looking wound on his leg bared for the whole world to see.


    The two of them were too tired to pay any attention to the nces.


    "Wait here, at the edge of the square. I won''t be too long," Beam said, once they had passed the bakery.


    "What? No way. You can''t walk by yourself on that leg of yours. You''ll ruin the stitches," N said, frowning.


    But Beam shook his head adamantly. "N. You do not want to get yourself involved with Greeves," he said sternly. "I''ll manage by myself."


    She looked unhappy with his words, but seeing his expression, she couldn''t protest. She mumbled "fine," and folded her arms, making her discontent clear. "But if I shouldn''t get involved with him, then why are you?"

 Chapter 82 The Cruelty of The Gods - Part 7

    ?Chapter 82 The Cruelty of The Gods - Part 7


    Beam shrugged at that. "Because I''m stupid, I guess," he said, repeating what she often called him. "I won''t be too long. Sorry for making you wait."


    "Hah..." N let out a sigh as she watched him go. He was basically just hopping. She could see from the way he was moving that he was making a sincere effort to make sure that he wouldn''t ruin the stitches. She thought his consideration to be misced, given the state he was in.


    Beam struggled his way through the square, avoiding the many people as they crowded in the marketce. It was mid-afternoon by now, and the market was busier than it had been in some time, as people started getting in all that they needed for the winter.


    Greeves'' house felt an extraordinary distance away doing it on but a single leg. By the time he got there, he was drenched in sweat, and he could see faint patches of red starting to seep their way through the shirt N''s mother had given him.


    He knocked on the door and leaned heavily against the wall and he waited, sack of Goblin heads in hand.


    Judas answered a momentter and recoiled at the sight of him. "Gods, boy, What kind of state are youing here in?" He noticed the sack Beam was carrying a momentter and the faint colour of green as the Goblin blood seeped through. "More Goblins..?" He muttered. "Come on in. The boss said he expected you''d being today."


    Beam didn''t need to be told twice. He wanted to get this business over with as soon as he could. At least this way, since his master had made him go into town, he wouldn''t have to worry about any trouble brewing with Greeves in his absence. Who knew what the merchant might think if he went missing again?


    Judas watched as Beam struggled through the house, looking as though he was about to offer to help, but then apparently thinking better of it.


    Judas went on ahead and called into Greeves'' office. "The boy''s here," he said.


    "Ah, good - as expected. I have the quest details ready for him. I imagine he''ll be quite eager for the hunt," Greeves said, seeming to be in a good mood.


    But Beam dragged his way to the door a momentter and by the state of him, Greeves could tell that things hadn''t quite gone ording to his expectations. He looked from the wound on Beam''s leg to the sack in his hand.


    "Beam!"


    Beam opened his eyes wide as he was suddenly smothered by a warm embrace. He nced up. "Loriel..." he murmured. Normally, he''d fight her, but in that moment, he was so exhausted that he could have fallen asleep in her arms.


    Loriel turned to Greeves sharply, tears misting her eyes. "Greeves..." she began, in a voice that was a growl.


    The merchant put his hands up defensively. "C''mon, it wasn''t anything to do with me I''m as clueless as you."N?v(el)B\\jnn


    "You''ve been sending him out and putting him in danger - I''ve heard!" She said, raising her voice.


    "Naw, it ain''t like that, me and the boy entered an agreement, y''see. He''s making 5 silver out of it," Greeves said.


    Loriel looked down at Beam. "Is that true?" Beam could see that she was ready to let all hell loose if it wasn''t. He really didn''t understand what he''d ever done to make her care about him so much.


    "Mhm, sort of... And he''s right - this time it was nothing to do with Greeves, Beam said. She bit her lip as she looked at him. "You''re a mess... But someone has tended to your wounds. That''s good," she murmured. "I heard you''ve been fighting Goblins," she said, stroking his head. "When did you suddenly get so strong?"


    "I just kind of happened, I guess... I thought you were going to ask when did I get stupid enough to do it, though," Beam said, forcing a smile.


    But Loriel just shook her head seriously, "I could never call you stupid when I''ve seen how hard you''re trying... You''re so brave."


    -


    Greeves watched on with a raised eyebrow. "Satisfied? Go on then, Loriel. You''ve seen the boy - he''ll be alright. You''ve got things to do, and he and I need to have a chat. You go and get going now."


    Her reluctance to leave was evident on her face, but shouldn''t say that. She couldn''t tell him how much she admired her bravery, his willingness to struggle. She couldn''t say the true reason she was routing for him - that his struggle, even watching it from afar, it gave her the courage shecked, for she understood better than anyone else just how cruel the world could be.


    She who dared no longer face the world on her own. Who willingly yielded to the protection of Greeves, for she needed it, as a backbone to support her. She lived her courageous dreams from afar, through the lens of Beam. A tiny candle though he was, he was one of very few things that kept her warm.


    "Take care of yourself, sweetie," she said atst, tenderly patting his head a little more. Finally, she let go, and turned to Greeves, more assertively than she normally might. "You be good to him, Greeves. You make sure of it."


    "I will," Greeves said, and finally, she left.


    Greeves let out a hearty sigh once she was gone. "I tell you, that woman cares more about other people than herself. That''s the only time I see her getting fired up. Some sort of motherly instinct, do you reckon?"


    "Judas, get the poor boy a drink. He looks like he''s going to drop dead any second. Boy, go on, take a seat."


    Beam stumbled gratefully into the chair. The fire was roaring in the hearth and he found he needed its heat as his body struggled against blood loss. Beam dropped his sack by Greeves'' feet so he could check it.

 Chapter 83 The Cruelty of The Gods - Part 8

    ?Chapter 83 The Cruelty of The Gods - Part 8


    "Not going to make me pay in advance this time?" Greeves said, ncing at the sack, but not rushing to open it.


    Beam just shrugged. "As you can see... I''m not quite at my best. If you have a scheme in the works, then there''s nothing I can do about it. But, I expect a businessman of your abilities wouldn''t be so quick to cut off such a source of money as myself, would you? The gains would be minimal."


    "Mm," Greeves considered it, tapping a finger against his chin. "You tempt me, boy, you really do. There''s nothing to stop me from taking these Goblin heads of yours and getting Judas to give you a little bop on the head with his trudgeon. People will assume you died of your wounds - it would be so easy!"


    "Well, there you go," Beam said tiredly. "You''ve got your options. I''m barely staying conscious here, so if you''re not going to kill me, I''d appreciate it if you hurried up."


    Greeves drummed his fingers on the desk with a smile, before finally looking inside the bag. "Hoh... Seven this time. No wonder you''re looking so wounded - is this your limit, I wonder?"


    But Beam shook his head, knowing the only thing that was keeping him alive was the worth that Greeves saw in him. He knew what his master had said earlier, about keeping the appearance of the Hobgoblin a secret - but Beam thought he knew the intent behind that, so he dared to make a gamble.


    "A Hobgoblin," he said.


    "What was that?" Greeves asked calmly, his fingers stopping.


    "It was a Hobgoblin that gave me these wounds - I wouldn''t fall to a normal Goblin," Beam said, summoning up hisst bit of energy to add some seriousness to his eyes. Greeves stared at him without breaking eye contact.


    "Hmm..." he said. Judas returned with a drink and handed it to Beam,


    Beam took a quick swig then spluttered when he found out it was ale. He''d hardly drunk any alcohol at all in his short life.


    The two menughed heartily at his reaction. "Heh heh, still just a kid then, aren''t ya boy?" Judas said with a grin.


    "Well, what do you think, Judas? The boy ims he got these wounds from a Hobgoblin," Greeves said, cutting through theughter to bring them back to the point in question.


    Judas, hearing that, suddenly went serious. "Mm... Surviving an attack from a Hobgoblin? That''s tough to believe," he said.


    "I know that much," Greeves said irritably. "But is it possible? If so, what is the significance of it?"


    "Aye, I suppose it''s possible," Judas said, stroking his chin as he looked Beam up and


    down. "If you were quick on your feet, you''d be able to get away from it. But if it''s close enough to deal those kinda wounds, I''m less likely to believe it."


    Beam just shrugged. "It snuck up on me. I didn''t see it till thest moment. Not that I even expected to find Goblins in the first ce. I was out cutting wood before I heard them screaming off in the distance."


    "And you went to hunt them, did you?" Greeves pressed. "That''s rather brave of you, is it not? Considering you hadn''t even taken a request for them."


    In his eyes, Beam could see the slightest hint of suspicion, as though the merchant knew there was more to this story than he was letting on. But Beam stuck to his story.


    "Well, I knew you''d buy them. And I had my knife on me, anyway. It saved me the job of tracking them. I figured I''d take them out before they knew I was there," Beam said with a shrug,


    "Seven Goblins, though? That seems... A stretch," Greeves said carefully, tapping his fingers on the desk as he poured himself a drink from a dark bottle of wine.


    "Goblins are weak," Beam said. "It would be embarrassing to fall to them. As long as you don''t let them surround you, individually, they''re just violent children."


    "Hoh..." Greeves looked to Judas to gauge his reaction. The big man had a doubtful frown on his face, but he still muttered in support.


    "He isn''t wrong... The only reason I struggle with the little fuckers is the speed. They can get you surrounded before you know it - if the boy is as fast as them, or even faster, I can''t see why he couldn''t manage it," Judas said.


    Greeves nodded his understanding as he drank from his ss, appearing pleased. "Now, back to the business of the Hobgoblin. What happened there? How did you manage to escape one?"


    "Goblins can''t swim," Beam said, stating a fact rather than telling an outright lie. "I lured them to the river and held them off at a crossing. It got my leg because I let my guard down after seeing it slip and fall into the river."


    "Hmm..." Greeves didn''t believe him, Beam could tell. But it wasn''t important that he believed him entirely. Merely believing he had survived an encounter with a Hobgoblin would be enough to rekindle the merchant''s interest in him. "So. Is this Hobgoblin dead?"


    "I didn''t stick around to find out," Beam said, "but I''d guess even a river would struggle to finish one off, even if it couldn''t swim. They''re vicious creatures.


    "Mm. So might be that we have a Hobgoblin running about as well. That''s not on the quests that Ferdinand gave us though - so it isn''t our problem, I suppose. Where were these Goblins? To the east again? Near the middle of the forest?"


    Beam nodded, that matched where he''d found them.n/o/vel/b//in dot c//om


    "Well, I suppose we can consider this quest here done then," Greeves said, eyeing a slip


    of paper and making a note on it. "I suppose I owe you 5 coppers then... And I''d like to take these heads off your hands, too. What do you want for them?"

 Chapter 84 The Cruelty of The Gods - Part 9

    Chapter 84 The Cruelty of The Gods - Part 9


    "I want a sword," Beam said, testing the waters. But Greeves instantly shook his head.


    "No can do. I don''t have any cheap swords kicking around and with the price of steel in this vige you''d be looking at upwards of 1 gold," Greeves said.


    "I still want a sword," Beam said adamantly. "On top of the 5 coppers you''re giving me forpleting the quest, I want 5 coppers for these heads and I want a sword with it."


    "You''re not making any sense, boy," Greeves said in irritation. "I''ve already said I can''t get you a sword. I''m not going to give you 5 coppers on top of a deal I already declined."


    "Then make your offer, merchant. That''s what I want. What do you ask for in return?" Beam said.


    "Heh¡­" Greeves slowly drained thest of his wine as he narrowed his eyes at Beam. "You''re getting used to me now, aren''t you boy? You know I chase the scent of coin. Let''s see¡­ If you''re looking for that, you''re going to have to take out a loan. Are you really sure you want to take a loan from me?"


    "Yeah, no, I definitely don''t want to," Beam said. "But I do need that sword. In two weeks'' time, I n to hunt that Hobgoblin. Would its corpse be of interest to you?"


    That gave Greeves pause, and he smiled. "Now there, we might be able to find ourmon cause¡­ Mm. So, you want me to take a gamble on you? You want me to lend you a sword for which to y this Hobgoblin?"


    "I do," Beam said with a firm nod.


    "This certainly seems more like a gamble than an investment," Greeves mused. "What reason do I have to believe that you''re capable of such a feat? Are you saying you''ll aplish this alone? Judas, what say you?"


    Judas had been frowning the whole while as he listened in. "I''d say it''s madness¡­ Even I wouldn''t want to fight a Hobgoblin. Maybe I''d be able to scratch out a victory ¨C but it''d be a close thing. I might end up losing a hand for it."


    "Hoh¡­ My man advises me against it. And, judging by the state of your leg, he seems wise to think so. Now, do you have any room to counter?" Greeves asked with a smile. N?v(el)B\\jnn


    "My leg is in a pretty bad way," Beam admitted. "But I do not think it will take too long to heal. We don''t have to leave the date set in stone anyway ¨C it could be 2 weeks, it could be a month, but if you give me a sword, I''ll y a Hobgoblin on your behalf and give you the corpse in exchange for keeping the de."


    "Mmm," Greeves said, considering it. "You see, the issue is, this is a loan without guarantee I''ll ever be paid back. If you lose against this Hobgoblin after I lend you the sword, I''ll probably lose my de. That''s nearly a whole gold coin down the drain."


    "Well, you can take these few heads as a deposit towards the loan," Beam said. "They''re worth a lot more than 5 coppers, are they not? Now your losses are less. But your gains will be far more. I imagine a Hobgoblin corpse is worth far more than a cheap sword, no?"


    "Tempting, very tempting," Greeves said, narrowing his eyes. "The limiting factor in this exchange is you. If you fail, that fucks things up, you get me, boy? Can I really bet on you?"


    "You can," Beam said, seriously, imbuing his next words with the weight of his soul. "It is either defeating this Hobgoblin, or death. There is no room in between for me."


    There was something about the emotion he twisted into those words and the look in the boy''s eyes and the state of his body as he spoke them. It painted such a picture to Judas and Greeves. For a moment, their hearts beat slightly faster.


    "Hoh," a broad grin broke out across Greeves'' face as he looked towards Judas. "What a little treasure we''ve found here, hmm? You''re an odd sort, boy, that''s for sure. Anyone would have thought this Hobgoblin had killed your entire family with the way you''re speaking. Y''know, when you''re willing to go that far, I feel a slight bit more willing to push a few coins towards betting on you."


    The merchant reached into his drawer and pulled out a coin pouch, counting out 10 coppers. He slid them towards Beam. "5 coppers for thepletion of the quest and the 5 coppers you asked for as part of the Goblin heads payment. The rest of their worth, I''m taking as a down payment for this sword loan, correct?"


    Beam nodded, taking the coins in his battered hands. "That works for me."


    "Good," Greeves said, before looking at his leg again and shaking his head. "You heal up quickly now, boy. There''s work to be done. 2 weeks you said initially, correct? I''m going to hold you to that. I don''t care if you can hardly walk. These quests needpleting. Even if you bleed out chopping wood, you''re going to make sure they''re done. 2 weeks. That''s all you get."


    "I''ll be faster than that," Beam said, rising to his feet, believing his words.


    Greeves waggled a finger at him. "Don''t get cocky now, boy. You''ll anger me if you over-promise and under-deliver. I like you. I do. Don''t fail me now. It would be a shame to get rid of you."


    By getting rid of, Beam knew exactly what the merchant was implying and he nodded his head grimly. He had no intention of failing. Truly, that was how much his defeat to this Hobgoblin had angered him. He would rather die than endure the burning pangs of failure rippling through his flesh once more.


    He moved towards the door with a clenched fist, ignoring the pain in his leg, determined to get back to full health as soon as possible.


    "Careful now," Judas said, walking him out. "It''ll only heal slower if you keep mistreating it." He nodded towards his leg as he spoke, pointing to the blood that was already beginning to pour down Beam''s shin.

 Chapter 85 The Cruelty of The Gods - Part 10

    Chapter 85 The Cruelty of The Gods - Part 10


    Beam nced at it. With the stitches, it was in a much better state than earlier. It was only a slight stream of it now. It did not worry him. His thoughts were of the future as he strode down the steps out of the merchant''s house. He gave a brief nod to Judas before the big man closed the door behind him and then, Beam hobbled his way across the square to where N was waiting.


    She stood with her arms folded, looking bored until she caught sight of him. Seeing blood already rushing down his leg, she ran to him in a worry. "Look what you''ve done!" She said, seeing the state of him. "I told you I should have walked you there! This is serious, Beam. You''re really going to die if you keep pushing yourself like this. Do you know how much blood you''ve lost?"


    She nced up, only to see the serious expression on his face and the hardening of his jaw expressing a grim determination. She recoiled slightly at the sight. "What happened?" She asked.


    "He and I came to something of an agreement," Beam said cryptically, his thoughts on the future. And then he remembered the coins that he''d asked for. "Here," he said, taking her hand and putting the 5 copper coins inside it.


    "What''s this?" She asked in surprise, eyeing it.


    "For the Goblins you slew," Beam told her. "They''re worth more, but Greeves'' is pretty stingy, as you''d expect from a merchant."


    "They''re worth more?" N repeated with a blink, looking at the handful of coin. "Wait, this is too much! I can''t ept this. This is two weeks'' wages! How are you fine giving this away? Besides, I only managed to kill those two Goblins thanks to you ¨C I don''t deserve pay for it."


    "Nah," Beam said. "It''s your skills that got you that coin, N. I don''t know how hard you''ve been practising to be able to fire arrows like that, but your skill is something else. These coins are the result of your hard work, just ept them."


    N looked startled by the sudden praise as she continued to stare at the coins, looking conflicted.


    "I''m never going to be able to pay you back at this rate," she mumbled. "I don''t think you understand how important just these few coins will be for getting us through the winter ¨C and you''re just dropping them on me like that."


    Beam shrugged. "We''ve had a rough day, after all. It makes sense that we''d get a reward for making it through the danger."


    N frowned at that. "Just making it through with your life would be enough for most people ¨C it''s enough for me¡­ Are you really sure I can have these?"


    "Hah, just take them N. You killed those Goblins, so you get the rewards for them. We''re both too tired to argue. Let''s just leave it there," Beam said, genuinely feeling exhausted at this point.


    "Thank you," N mumbled as she pocketed the 5 coppers. "Mother is going to be really grateful for this, too."


    She offered her shoulder to support Beam and the two of them hobbled back away from the town, towards the forest.


    Beam grew more and more silent as they went, the blood continuing to dribble down his leg in short bursts. N kept ncing at him worriedly, to make sure he was okay.


    "We''re nearly at the forest Beam," N said, attempting to stir him as she saw his eyes slowly close.


    "Mm¡­" Beam said in response, as though half asleep.


    They entered the treeline. n/o/vel/b//in dot c//om


    "Where do you want me to take you?" She asked again, trying to rouse a response out of him. But by now, he waspletely unconscious, it seemed. His legs had even stopped moving, and N was forced to shoulder more and more of his body weight.


    She gently lowered him down against a tree in worry. "I don''t know what to do¡­" She murmured, twisting her lips. From the rise and fall of his chest, he was still breathing, but the boy was thoroughly exhausted by now. The continuous blood loss plus the stress of the day''s activities - they''d all caught up with him. In truth, it was a wonder he''d made it that long.


    "I will take it from here, girl," a voice called out from behind her, making her flinch, and the old warrior that she had seen earlier emerged from the shadows, hidden beneath his straw hat. He approached the boy, as N continued to look at him warily. "You''ve treated him well," Dominus said.


    "¡­He pushed himself too far. I don''t know if he''s really going to be okay like this ¨C he''s lost too much blood," N said.


    Dominus smiled at that. "If only you knew how much the slightest flicker of concern means to a child like Beam. He has spent far too long in the cold, away from human warmth. You''ve done more for him than you realize."


    N twisted her lips, unsure of what to say. Hearing the kindness in the old man''s voice, her wariness faded, but she couldn''t hide her curiosity. "Just who are you, anyway? How long have you known Beam?"


    "A short while," Dominus said. "It would have been better for us both if I''d met him sooner ¨C but the Gods have their games to y."


    N noticed that he''d avoided the question of his identity.


    "How are you so strong?" She pressed, recalling how he''d dealt with the Hobgoblin so easily. Dominus nced at her, out of the corner of his eye. Feeling the weight of his gaze, she felt pressed to reassure him. "I promised I wouldn''t tell anyone about what happened ¨C and I won''t. I''m just curious."


    Dominus looked at her, long and hard, before he smiled. "¡­Amusing. It would seem you have it too ¨C the hunger in your eyes. You have an ambition far above your station, mm? What a strange game fate ys, for two sets of eyes like that to stumble upon each other so suddenly."


    "..? I don''t understand?" N said, as Dominus spoke seemingly to himself.


    But Dominus did not seem keen to borate much further. "Be gentle with the boy, won''t you?" He said. "I have a feeling your paths might cross more than once in the future. I do not have much time left, so I cannot guide him all the way. But show the boy kindness. His is a fragile vessel. He lives just as strongly in the darkness as normal folk do in the light."


    "I''ll¡­ I''ll try to be kinder," N said, still not understanding. "I owe him my life, after all. Even if I don''t know anything about him, I can at least be kinder when I see him."


    "Ah, but I do not mean that kindness, girl," Dominus said, shaking his finger. "Force it, and you''ll only make him distrustful. You''ve caught him in a rare moment of weakness. Do not expect his heart to be always so open. Merely treat him carefully, as you would a wounded animal. Do that, and I believe it will benefit you both. He has what you''re seeking, and you have what hecks."


    With those cryptic words, the old warrior scooped the unconscious Beam up carefully and began to walk into the woods.


    "Wait!" N called out as she tried to process what he had said, but they were already gone, and no one came to answer her.


    She rubbed her eyes as she leaned against a tree. "This is all so strange¡­" she murmured to herself, as a crow wandered over the path in front of her.


    It paused a moment, as though to observe her, and then it cawed loudly, and flew right past her ear. N watched it go, seeing that it only had one leg.


    Chapter 10 ¨C The Wounded


    When Beam awoke the next morning, he almost wished he hadn''t. A groan escape from his lips as he tried to sit up, only to fail and fall back to his bed again.


    He noticed there to be a roof over his head, which felt strange to him at this point, after weeks of sleeping outside. It almost made him worry that these past couple of weeks had merely been a dream. But as he turned his head to look outside of the hut that he was in, he saw the familiar campground of Dominus, with a small smoking fire pit and a kettle boiling amongst the embers.

 Chapter 86 The Wounded - Part 1

    Chapter 86 The Wounded - Part 1


    "Up, are we?" Dominus asked, appearing beside him, offering a drink.


    Beam forced himself to sit upright, despite the pain that racked his body. He groaned again despite himself, and epted the drink, finding that he couldn''t straighten one of his legs, from the dull ache that permeated throughout the thigh.


    "Easy now, that was quite a wound you got yesterday. Push it too much and the stitches will tear," Dominus told him, seeing Beam try to move as he normally might.


    "So it wasn''t a dream, then?" Beam said, still half asleep. N?v(el)B\\jnn


    Dominusughed. "Afraid not. You''re going to be out ofmission for a good while, it would seem."


    "The tests though," Beam said, rubbing his eyes.


    "Indeed. I will not be making any changes to our agreement, despite the circumstances. You have under three weeks in which to pass them," Dominus told him. It might have seemed like a harsh pronouncement to most, but Beam had expected it and he merely nodded grimly.


    "It was my own weakness that got me in this state, after all," he said, not quite yet as bitter as Dominus had expected him to be.


    Dominus nodded in acknowledgement at that. "Good. That''s the mindset of a knight. Do not me anyone for your misfortune, merely take responsibility for it and grasp power along with it."


    "What do I do though..?" Beam said, more to himself than his master, as he puzzled through his situation, staring at the wound on his leg. It was really bad by now. The wound itself had grown purple and horribly swollen to an rming degree. It almost made him worry about infection.


    "It isn''t infected," Dominus told him, noticing his look. "It''s just swollen. The swelling should go down in a couple of days. The girl left you a jar of honey when she dropped you off," he said, producing a wooden jar from within the folds of his clothes and handing it to Beam.


    Beam frowned at it. "They really shouldn''t have¡­ This will be importante winter. They''ll suffer from theck of it."


    Dominus shrugged. "It was their decision. You can only acknowledge their kindness and move on. Any more and you''ll be shaming them."


    "I guess," Beam admitted grudgingly. "I need to help them with firewood too¡­ Master, do you know any ways to make a wound heal faster?"


    Dominusughed at the question. "Sorry boy, the solution won''t be so easy. Maybe if you''d spent thest ten years training yourself to be able to detect mana, you''d be able to give it a shot, but as you are now, that''s a hopeless thought."


    "It''s really no good then?" Beam said bitterly, before attempting to move his leg a little bit. He winced from the pain. Just that slight bit of movement sent his leg into a spasm. Now that the leg had swollen as the body worked to repair it, he couldn''t move it at all. "Well, I guess it''s a good thing I sorted everything in town yesterday then."


    "Mm, indeed," Dominus agreed. "Going to be azy few days for you, boy, so it seems. How are you going to make the best use of them?"


    At his master''s prompting, Beam considered it. Only then did his eyes fall upon the Battle board, and he recalled his continual failure in developing his strategy. Just yesterday, before the whole Goblin thing had happened, that had been the height of his worries. Now would be a good time to fix it.


    "Do you mind¡­ ying Battle with me today?" Beam asked, pointing at the board.


    "All day?" The old knight asked, not bothering to hide his discontent. "What a troublesome boy¡­ Hmm. No. I won''t y all day. I''ll y you for an hour now and an hour in the evening. The rest of the time you can spend ying by yourself."


    "Okay," Beam agreed, knowing that it had been too much to ask in the first ce. He tried to reach for the board from his spot, only for his leg to pin him in ce.


    Dominus sighed seeing him struggle and got the board in his stead.


    "You set up the pieces. I''m making another drink," the old knight said, tending to the fire as he thrust a box full of pieces at Beam.


    The board was made of 100 squares and each yer had an 8 by 2 deployment zone, giving them ess to 16 troops that they could choose from. And those troops were entirely down to choice ¨C theposition of one''s own army was part of strategy, after all.


    There were four units, each with different strengths and weaknesses. There were bowmen, that could fire five squares in front of them. There were spearmen that were most effective at attacking 2 squares in front of them. There were swordsmen too, which were effective at attacking one square in front of them, making them a counter to the spearmen, as long as they got behind the 2 square effective range. Lastly, there were cavalry, which could move 4 squares forward per turn, whilst other units could only move twice and archers only once.


    A yer could have as many of each different piece as they wanted, leading to some interesting formations. And every turn, every piece could be moved. So if a yer willed it, their entire army could move forward one square in a single turn.


    One might think that their options were somewhat limited with such a small board and a small number of moves ¨C but things turned out to be quite tactical. For, pieces could switch squares before the enemy army came into range and archers could continually pick pieces off from a distance. If anything, the small space and limited movement made things more interesting.


    "Which pieces do you want, master?" Beam asked as he set things up.


    "The usual," Dominus replied as he walked over with a fresh cup of tea. Dominus preferred a bnced approach in his battle. He would field 6 archer units, a front line of 6 spearmen, and then 4 cavalry units to fill in the rest. He tended to avoid swords units, stating that he wasn''t a skilful enough yer to get his swordsmen into good enough positions to be effective. For the lesser yer, the spearmen were far easier to use.

 Chapter 87 The Wounded - Part 2

    Chapter 87 The Wounded - Part 2


    Beam set up his pieces to mirror his master, and the game began.


    On turn one, both armies brought their archers to the front of their armies, leaving a distance of just 6 squares between them and their enemy. If either side decided to move one square forward on the next turn, then their pieces would be in range to be picked off. Each archer unit was capable of firing on a single square each turn ¨C and if another piece was on the square they targeted, then they''d be annihted.


    It often seemed to beginners that the archers were far too strong a piece. Given that they could seemingly annihte any other piece before they came close. And that was true, to a degree. But their weaknesses were theirck of speed and the slowness in their attacks ¨C archers would need to wait a whole turn in between attacks.


    During that time, it was quite possible to ughter them with lesser units, and most yers decided to retreat at that point.


    As both Dominus and Beam''s pieces had their standoff, Dominus began to send his cavalry units along both the empty nks of the board, two units each side.


    On the next turn, their four units met each other. For each unit doing battle, a dice would be rolled for each yer. Whoever''s dice came up with the higher number would win the battle ¨C the same went for archer attacks. When archer units attacked, a dice was rolled by both the archers and the defenders. Only if the archer''s dice had a higher number would the defender be annihted.


    This was only true if the pieces were facing each other, however. If a piece was attacked in its side or from behind, the victory would go to the aggressor without a dice needing to be rolled.


    "Damn it¡­" Beam cursed, he''d already lost the first dice roll. On one side, he and Dominus'' pieces had killed one unit off, leaving them evenly bnced with one piece each remaining. But on the left nk, Dominus managed to annihte Beam''s cavalry whilst still retaining a cavalry piece of his own. He sent his remaining cavalry piece thundering deeper into enemy territory, whilst ordering both his archers and his front line of spearmen to advance.


    The archers went first and dice were rolled as both Beam''s and Dominus'' pieces attacked each other. It ended up being a slight victory for Beam, with 4 of his archers surviving and him killing 3 of Dominus''.


    But then there was nothing to stop Dominus'' spearmen as they advanced forward. Beam was forced to make his archers retreat as he waited for them to reload by the next turn. But the enemy spearmen were closing in on his spearmen now, and they met.


    At the same time, Dominus'' free cavalry piece went on a rampage, with no one to stop it. It killed two archers and took out a spearmen unit, copsing Beam''s left nk and freeing up Dominus'' own spear piece on the left, allowing it to advance and attack more of Beam''s men in the side.


    Like that, the battle was lost. There was noing back from it. From what seemed just like a simple unlucky roll, with Dominus'' cavalry managing to get the better of him, soon turned into total victory and Beam lost again.


    He cursed, about to me his defeat on mere poor luck like he used to, but he knew now that it wasn''t the case. He''d yed hundreds of games with Dominus at this point ¨C such a string of losses was not luck. It was him simply being out matched.


    Beam twisted his face in annoyance. His strategy test looked bleak at this rate, and he recalled all the emotions he''d felt the previous day as he worried about it. "Damn it¡­" he cursed, realizing that even with all this free time, he''d have to put in a considerable amount of effort to make any progress.


    "One more game, then you''ll have to practise yourself," Dominus told him, finishing his tea. Beam nodded and set up the pieces again, once more mirroring Dominus'' forces.


    And once more, seemingly by luck again, Dominus bested him with ease, without even pausing to think. He reacted merely on instinct, as though such a thing was second nature.


    "How are you so good at this?" Beam asked, exasperated.


    Dominus just chuckled. "That''s the issue ¨C I''m not. Most military officers would have an easy time beating me. I don''t know any of the strong strategy ys or really any of the tactics. I''m a weak yer through and through."


    Beam frowned, it wasn''t what he wanted to hear. "Then I''m hopeless with strategy¡­ I won''t be any good even if I manage to beat you."


    "Well, as I''ve said before, you''d be the best in your vige if you managed to," Dominus told him. "Commoners aren''t trained in strategy. Not that being good at Battle will necessarily mean you''ll be good at real strategy ¨C what happens on the field. But it''ll at least train you to think strategically, put you in the right frame of mind for building logical ns."


    "Mm¡­" Beam bitterly stared at the board where his defeated piecesy, feeling his frustration building.


    "Well, I''ll leave you to practise, boy. I''m going out for a while," Dominus said as he stood up and dusted off his trousers. He nced back briefly before he disappeared into the woods.


    "Man¡­ I''m in a rough spot," Beam mumbled, looking from the wound on his leg back to the Battle Board. He''d reached a deep and difficult-to-breach roadblock. His progress in everything had ground to an absolute halt and there was nothing he could think to do about it.


    He delicately touched his wound with a finger, wondering if he''d be able to speed up its recovery if he somehow drained the fluid that was making it swell sorge. But from how painful it was to the touch, he immediately set that idea to the side. n/?/vel/b//in dot c//om


    "I''m going to be getting so much weaker waiting here like this¡­ And my speed is going to be gone. Not only that, but I''ll probably suck in a fight too ¨C so there goes my hope of beating the Hobgoblin," he murmured to himself. "Just what can I do sitting here like this? I know I should be practising Battle, looking for a way to get better¡­ But I just can''t see how."

 Chapter 88 The Wounded - Part 3

    Chapter 88 The Wounded - Part 3


    He thought, finally, he was starting to get a sense of what he wanted. More than anything, he wanted to beat the Hobgoblin. More than anything ¨C more than he''d ever dared hope for anything before. What he wanted was the strength to beat a worthy adversary. Such a thought set his soul on fire with delight.


    He was even beginning to think he knew what he needed to do. Or at the very least, he was beginning to understand it on an unconscious level ¨C what he was looking for, his body told him, it wasn''t to be found in the outside world. There was a problem going on inside of him, there was something that was holding him back. He needed to find what it was.


    The Battle board, that which sat in front of him ¨C he figured if he could best that, then it was at least a sign he as heading in the right direction, that he as beginning to change. But even then, he was unsure of it. He didn''t know what direction he should be heading in, or what he should be doing with his time and a frustration arose from that. He knew he had to find something, but not where to look.


    Just looking at the board now was beginning to annoy him. He knew to practise Battle, he''d at least have to set the pieces up on both sides, but he could hardly summon the energy to do even that. It seemed hopeless to him, as though there was no way forward.


    "Not only have I not gotten better at it, I could swear I''ve gotten worse," he murmured to himself. He recalled such a thing happening with his speed and strength training ¨C but at least he''d improved in those at least before the stagnation.


    "Oh wait, with speed I didn''t¡­ That went pretty terribly for the first few days," he recalled. "Maybe this is just how things go then? You get a little while where nothing is working¡­ Maybe if I just y a lot of it, something will fall into ce and it''ll get better?"


    With those words, he felt the slightest glimmer of hope. It was well and truly slight, though. If hope was ordinarily a fire, this felt like the weak me of a candle. But with nothing else to provide him with light, he started moving the pieces on the board, for the first time attempting a different formation on each side.


    On one side, he added more archers than usual and on the other side he added less. Just as an experiment to see who would win. He half-heartedly yed both sides out, knowing that to best the archers he''d need to clear a path somehow, or at least go down the nks to avoid them.


    But as soon as he tried to shift his army down the nks where the archers weren''t covering, he immediately shifted the archers of the other army to follow. There seemed to be no way for either side to go. It was a true standoff, as one might expect from simply ying himself.


    In the end, he settled on a suicide attack by the side with fewer archers. He set up his small number of archers on one side of the board and marched his entire army over to the same side, in onerge andpact mass. And then he marched his archers forward, effectively sending them to the death as they entered the enemy archer''s range, but managing to pick off a few of the enemy''s side in the meantime.


    And then he sent his troops rushing forward, fighting as both sides to the best of his ability. To his surprise, somehow, the suicide attack seeded. The side with fewer archers won out once he''d gotten his army in close. There simply weren''t enough spearmen to defend him. And with that, he secured himself a surprising victory (and defeat).


    Throughout the day, he practisedzily like that, experimenting with various different formations, to see if any would properly pay off. And by the time Dominus came back just as the sun was beginning to set, Beam was ready for him.


    This time, as Beam set out his pieces, he did so with a smile.


    "Hoh¡­ What''s this?" Dominus said, intrigued, seeing Beam field an army made up entirely of spearmen.


    "I just want to see if it works," he said.


    "Hmm¡­" Dominus said thoughtfully, before setting up his formation as he usually might, with 4 cavalry and 6 bowmen and 6 spearmen.


    The battle began and Beam immediately sent his spearmen running forward without a second thought. Dominus shifted his archers to the front. They rained down their first volley of arrows and the dice were rolled ¨C they managed to kill 4 of Beam''s spearmen units. But by now the distance was closed and Beam''s massive spearman army crashed in close, ughtering the archers it came in contact with. n/?/vel/b//in dot c//om


    "Hah!" Beam grinned, seeing his n work.


    But Dominus calmly sent his cavalry units forward, slipping them past the bulk of the spear army, and sending them into the nks from both sides.


    The dice were rolled, again and again as Beam eyed the numbers anxiously. But before his men could im total victory, they were wiped out from the back by Dominus'' cavalry.


    Two spearmen and all four of his cavalry units remained. A total defeat ¨C but a much closer battle than Beam was used to seeing.


    "Mm¡­" Dominus said, thinking over the battle once it was concluded. "Well, it''s hard to call it progress, but it was rather interesting, to say the least. Let''s just say that perhaps this is the start of some form of change?"


    "Let''s y again," Beam said, already setting up the pieces, with another n in mind as he worked to fix the weak points in hisst attack.


    "Nah, leave an old man time to rest," Dominus said, shooing him away. "You should likely rest too. Your body will recover faster when you''re sleeping."


    "Awh¡­" Beamined, his smile fading. He''d actually begun to enjoy ying Battle somewhat, now that he was gathering some momentum in it. But since his master ordered it, he put the board away and settled down to rest.

 Chapter 89 The Wounded - Part 4

    Chapter 89 The Wounded - Part 4


    Only in those moments of true quiet did the pain properly return. His body screamed at him. His leg felt like it was on fire. And his mind reyed images of his battle with the Hobgoblin over and over, reminding him of his defeat.


    ¡­


    ¡­


    The next day, the first thing Beam tried when he awoke was standing up ¨C he did not seed. A yellowish fluid leaked from his wound as he tried, and he was forced back down onto his back again.


    Another day of Battle, Beam said to himself. And that was exactly what it turned out to be. Like the day before, he put all his time into that one pursuit, for there was nothing else he could do. He experimented relentlessly whilst Dominus was away, and then once he returned, he made him bear the full brunt of his tactics.


    The culmination of that day''s work was settled into one game. This time, Beam yed a whole army of spearmen, with only two cavalry troops.


    As he sent his army streaming forward, he once more allowed Dominus'' archers to fire upon him, sacrificing 5 units in the process because of the dice rolls. It was particrly unlucky, but Beam didn''t falter and he continued sending his army marching forth, whilst keeping his cavalry units jogging at the very back.


    This time, when Dominus sent his own four cavalry units to counter, Beam sent one cavalry unit of his own to each side to slow their advance.


    Dominus merely allowed one of his units to meet him, before sending the other to nk the cavalry unit, destroying it. That happened on each side, and Beam''s n crumbled ¨C a step back from yesterday.


    On the third day, Beam followed much the same routine. He woke up, tested his leg, noted that the swelling had finally started to go down. His wound even looked like it was starting to seal up, thanks to the stitching and thanks to the honey that he kept applying to it every night.


    He dared to feel hopeful about that, wondering whether he should cut the stitches out yet, so that it could heal by itself. He ended up deciding against it, opting instead to hobble around the clearing to get some blood into his legs.


    Each step was wrought with pain and he could hardly put any weight on his injured leg ¨C but it was progress. Two days ago with the swelling, he hadn''t even been able to stand. Dominus came back to see him wandering like that and the old knight shook his head.


    "Easy now," he told him. "Eagerness is one thing, but if you push it too hard too soon, you might stop it from ever recovering properly."


    Dominus would have scolded him more harshly, but he knew it was because of his own tests that Beam was pushing himself and so he held off, letting the boy at least try to address the problem himself, whilst also keeping a watchful eye on him to make sure he didn''t do anything rash.


    On that day, Beam again dedicated all his time to Battle, desperately searching for a road to progress through it. Then, in the evening, just before bed, he got up to hobble around again, hoping that on some level he was doing his body good by allowing it movement.


    It was not until the fifth day did things begin to shift their momentum. n/?/vel/b//jn dot c//om


    Five days of being basically bed ridden, ying the same game of strategy for hours on end. It was eating away at Beam at this point and his temper was worse than it normally might be.


    Seeing that his leg had not improved all that much from the day before, Beam finally got impatient. With his knife, he cut out the stitches and once more he got up from his bed to hobble around the clearing, daring to put more weight on it than he had in the previous days.


    Dominus was out again as Beam performed his tasks. It was only a crow that sat in watch, seeing the angry scowl on Beam''s face as he forced himself to march around the fire, willing his body to recover.


    As well as his leg, his mind was filled with the frustrations of stagnation in his Battle progress. There had been that hint that something had been about to change a few days before, but since then he''d had nothing, and there was nothing to distract him from that fact.


    Hey in the hut that Dominus had vacated for him whilst he was injured, and in his free time he could do nothing but curse his own ipetence, his ownck of ability. He cursed himself again and again, as though that self-hatred would bring him some measure of progress.


    The crow cawed, seeing his irritation, as though mocking him. Beam red at it, but the crow did not move to fly away.


    Beam continued his forced march, gritting his teeth against the pain, forcing his leg to once more move as it used to. Fluid leaked from the wound. Not blood, but something yellowish. Something he was beginning to see quite frequently as the swelling went down.


    "You''re angry," Dominus noted upon his return, seeing that Beam was still walking in circles, forcing more effort onto his wounded leg. Dominus then noted the crow. "Mm, the crow sees it too."


    Beam said nothing, only continuing to walk. His anger was such that his irritation made him want to bite at nothing. He didn''t want to say something he might regret.


    "Those birds feed on it, you know," Dominus said, as hey the body of a rabbit that he had caught down on a t rock and began to skin it. "Or so they say. They''re minions of the Dark God Ingolsol. They look for potential, they do, and just before it''s about to bloom, theye to feed on the bitterness and look to break a man."

 Chapter 90 The Wounded - Part 5

    Chapter 90 The Wounded - Part 5


    Beam nced at the bird as he walked. There was something about its look that made him believe Dominus'' words. The crow cawed again, then flew away, as though it knew just what they were talking about.


    "Clever birds," Dominus murmured. "Cleverer than people, some of them. Rest boy, you''re pushing yourself too much too early."


    "I''m so weak," Beamined grimly, not looking like he was going to stop any time soon. "I need to get back on my feet soon. There''s so much to be done. But even then, my strategy isn''t anywhere near where it''s meant to be."


    Dominus smiled. "Ah, you are going to struggle so much, boy."


    That got the attention of the irritable Beam as he narrowed his eyes and spoke with far more anger than he normally might. "What do you mean?"


    "This? A mere few days of inactivity? A mere few weeks ofgging progress? If this angers you so, and leaves you so bitter, your soul will burn away to darkness long before you''ve achieved anything worthwhile," Dominus said, his hands covered in red from his butchery work.


    "But this¡­ This is more important than all that ¨C there''s no time! I could manage if I wasn''t making progress, but having no time is what makes it unbearable. I have to improve faster. I have to get so much stronger. This just isn''t enough."


    "Greedy," Dominus tutted. "There is always no time. No matter where you stand, no matter your circumstances, if your impatience is thus, there is always no time. The same pain will continue to haunt you until you harden your heart. Progress isced with suffering ¨C that is its very ingredient. You need not react so strongly to it."


    Beam could tell that there was wisdom in the words, but he couldn''t apply it. It did nothing to soothe the prickly emotions he was feeling. All he wanted to do was push harder, to go further, to punish himself into progressing faster. In that moment, he felt that he''d endure any amount of suffering, if only he could make a little progress.


    "She won''t let you force it," Dominus said, seeing the look on his face. "Anger won''t make progress flow faster. Well, to a degree it might ¨C to the degree that it makes you more willing to practise, so that you can supply the river of progress with the water it needs. But s, the river will flow where it will, ording to the path it will, and you have no control over that direction. You must exercise patience and trust that it will get there eventually."


    "Besides," Dominus murmured. "Progress is no longer the problem for you ¨C there''s something else you must fight again."


    "How can I have trust so close to such an important deadline? Before this, I had nothing. I had no shot at progress. I was just going to spend the rest of my life rotting in a vige, doing nothing at all. Passing these tests are the only shot I have at achieving something significant ¨C I can''t just lie back and do nothing as they get closer and closer. I''m not ready," Beam said.


    "I''m d that you''re taking them seriously, but things will merely go as they might. All you can do is all you can do. Beyond that, there is no use worrying, for things will fall where they might," Dominus said. "Come, sit, we''ll cook this rabbit and let us y once more, mm? I have a feeling the progress in your strategy might begin to flow more freely starting today."


    Begrudgingly, Beam sat down next to his master, his leg throbbing from his wound, and once again they drew out the Battle board and once again Beam yed his master.


    In the first game, he lost spectacrly, which did nothing to improve his mood.


    But in the second that they yed, merely motivated by bitterness, Beam tried something new. He kept his army at a distance and did not bother to engage Dominus at all, merely letting the old knighte to him. Dominus sent his archers and Beam responded in kind, carefully giving a bnced response to each and every one of Dominus'' moves.


    And then what started with bitterness ended up being his best result yet. From that bnce, Beam managed toe within only two dice rolls of beating Dominus. The old knight had merely two spear units remaining ¨C a far cry from the usual crushing victories that he tended to deliver.


    "Huh¡­? I don''t get it. Why''d it suddenly get better?" Beam asked, too bemused to really enjoy the result. In his head, he merely chalked it up to luck.


    "Mm, why not y another, and we shall see?" Dominus said, offering him an uncharacteristic opportunity to y more than he normally would.


    And again, they yed, reaching exactly the same result. Beam tried a slightly different strategy this time ¨C and it led him to that 2 unit defeat morefortably than thest game. In fact, it was so close to just being a one unit loss that Beam could hardly believe it.


    He nced up at Dominus, unsure of what to think. The old knight certainly would never allow him a victory ¨C he''d never go easy on him. That would be counterproductive for his training. That could only mean, somehow, after all these days of trying, there had started to be a glimmer of true progress.


    "Such is the whimsical will of the Goddess of progress, boy," Dominus said to him with a smile.


    "How did you know that today would be the day?" Beam asked.


    Dominus merely shrugged. "After so long following the river, I''ve begun to get the shallowest sense of its intentions."


    ¡­


    ¡­


    On the sixth day, Beam arose again, and pushed his leg even harder than the day before. There was only the slightest bit more movement in it, but he treated it roughly, as though trying to shock it into movement. n/?/vel/b//in dot c//om


    Again, he yed Dominus in strategy and again it seemed as though he was getting closer to the victory. Even better than yesterday ¨C even though it came down to quite a bit of luck ¨C Beam managed to get Dominus down to his veryst piece. He did that early in the morning.


    But no matter how hard he tried, in the subsequent games, that 1 unit barrier seemed to be impassable. Still, there was hope now, for he''d finally made progress, and he wasn''t feeling quite so despondent. But with so many things that needed to get done, even with strategy not being quite so hopeless, Beam was still feeling the pressure.


    And so, on the seventh day, when he got up, as he did his usual morning routine of marching around the campsite, putting more pressure on his leg, he did so whilst eyeing the stones.


    After a fewps of putting an increasing amount of pressure on his leg, he attempted to hop on it ¨C to put his full weight on it all at once. He winced in pain and fell over from the effort.


    "Not quite there yet," he said to himself bitterly. But he was still looking at the stones.


    He walked back to the hut as though to avoid them, but he simply couldn''t help himself and he backtracked walking right in front of the first of them. "Surely¡­ Surely this is fine, right?" He murmured to himself as he put a hand on the cold first stone.


    "Pah, if the first stone is difficult, then I''m in for a rough time," he said, firing himself up as he rolled it to him. He hefted it to hisp and winced, before barely managing to get it to his chest.


    "No good¡­" he murmured bitterly. That one lift there had taken a significant amount of effort. Far more than the first stone should. After all, he was meant to be lifting the fifth stone for 10 lifts in just over a week. He was so far away from such a goal at this point.


    He felt his anger bubbling up again at that realization and his impatience kicked in. He hefted the stone up once more, ignoring his pain, making his weak leg bear a little more of the force. And then he lifted.


    Again and again he went, until his leg was once more leaking that strange fluid ¨C such a thing hadn''t happened in a couple of days now, since the wound had scabbed over, so from that fluid Beam recognized that he was likely pushing himself too far. But still, he didn''t want to stop. He lifted it again and again until a sheen of sweat formed on his forehead, and then he moved on to the second stone.


    He gulped, eyeing what would normally be the easiest of warm-up weights for him. He had to fire himself up with a significant amount of anger before he even dared to attempt it. And once he did, the attempt was pitiful.


    It moved so slowly it was as though his strength had been reduced to that of a toddler. And his injured leg burned so thoroughly it felt as though the muscle was threatening to be torn from the bone.


    "No good," he muttered, dropping it back down. He was out of breath from the effort, but still he didn''t want to stand around doing nothing.


    "I have to slowly start getting back into everything," he told himself. He''d rested for nearly a week now and the build of energy and emotion was driving him mad. Even if it wasn''t optimal, even if it was likely better to do nothing at all, Beam couldn''t help himself.


    Then he dared to try a run.


    "Gah¡­" That was even worse than the stones. He lumbered with all his weight basically on one leg as though he was a corpse soldier. It was a pretty horrific sight, but Beam didn''t want to stop there. He gritted his teeth against the pain and tried to run around the campsite some more.


    It didn''t take long for him to reach his limit and he lowered himself to the ground, leaning his back against a tree as he got his breath back. "C''mon¡­" He pleaded, tapping his leg. "Don''t fail me now. We''ve got to get going again. There''s not enough time."


    He clenched his fist, thinking of how far he nned to push himself tomorrow


    Chapter 11 ¨C The Unshakeable


    On the eighth day was when Beam had had enough. There had been no more progress in strategy yet ¨C in fact, there had been a slight regression, with him continually losing, with Dominus having two pieces remaining. And now, he was determined to at least do something.

 Chapter 91 The Unshakeable - Part 1

    Chapter 91 The Unshakeable - Part 1


    He knew that what he had to find wasn''t necessarily tied to anything. In act, it as probably tied to everything. He got that sense from it, there was a strong pull in whatever direction he walked in, directing him inwards, urging him to take notice of something that he refused to take notice of before. But he had not yet gleaned exactly what it was. He knew the precarious nature of his situation ¨C that he had been cursed by Ingolsol and at the same time blessed by udia, but he had no idea what that meant, exactly.


    He only knew that it had opened the door to progress for him. He wasn''t aware that the door had merely been opened a crack and this wealth of progression ¨C the best he had ever seen in his life ¨C was a mere trickle whenpared to what should be avable to him. Nor did he realize that such progression was tied to his own demise, at least with how unbnced things ere currently. He only felt a strong sense of resistance in his head.


    Here, his experience with suffering held him back ¨C for he was used to that feeling of resistance. Whenever he felt it and he felt like giving up, he merely ignored the feeling and pushed onwards. He did the same even now, as his leg bled, for there was no worth to his life if he was not allowed to at least struggle.


    He did what had started to be a routine at this point ¨C he walked around his campground and then he attempted to jog around it. After that, he went to attempt to lift the stones, only to fail just as gloriously as yesterday, hardly able to lift the second one at all.


    But the fact that there was movement in his leg again made him unwilling to sit down and do nothing. "I can at least walk, right?" He said aloud, wondering how he might find some progress today.


    He could indeed walk, but not without a limp. Anything strenuous waspletely beyond him. Yet still, before Dominus left for the day, he called out to him.


    "Did you remember to look after the log sled and axe as you said you would?" Beam asked.


    "I did¡­" Dominus said with a squint, as though trying to sense his intentions.


    "Where are they?" Beam asked.


    "Ah," with that question, Dominus understood. He looked Beam up and down carefully. "This is rash," he told him.


    "I know ¨C but I''m done resting. It''s time to start moving again," Beam said.


    Dominus heaved a sigh. "You know¡­"


    It took him a moment to finish that thought, as though struggling to find the words. Beam waited patiently.


    "Ah, nothing. Your impatience might be a blessing as well as a curse. But since it bothers you so often, you should train moderation. For now, I will not get in your way. But know this: if I believe your actions to be too reckless, I will forcibly make you rest, and you will lose the autonomy to decide just how you recover," Dominis finished.


    Beam nodded. "Fine. I won''t be too reckless. If I think I''ve pushed myself too far, I''ll stop."


    "Somehow, I don''t think I can trust you to do that¡­ You don''t seem to know your body very well at all," Dominus said, before relenting. "Fine. The axe is with the sled. They''re where you left them ¨C only covered with a significant amount of leaves and sticks. I''ve been checking on them periodically. No one has touched them."


    "Thank you, master," Beam said with a nod of his head, as he picked up his knife and threaded it through his belt.


    "Careful now," Dominus warned him again as Beam left.


    "I know!" Beam called back over his shoulder.


    ¡­


    ¡­


    Just as Dominus had said, the log sled and axe were exactly where he''d left them. Though, if he hadn''t known they were, he would have walked past them, for they were so thoroughly disguised in a mound of leaves and sticks. n/o/vel/b//in dot c//om


    It took far more effort to free the log sled than he had anticipated and once he did, he saw that the axe wasn''t with it and he began to panickedly search through the leaves. But he found the axe soon after, seeing that it had slipped out of the sled as he pulled it free of the debris.


    He ran his finger along the axe''s edge, making sure that it was still sharp. It was, of course. A mere week wouldn''t be enough to dull it significantly ¨C and he''d sharpened it before he came outst time.


    The tree that he''d felled was still where he''d left it too, right before N''s call for help came.


    It was strange to Beam, seeing that same forest be so peaceful now after the cmity of a mere week ago. After so much violence and aggression.


    But he supposed the trees were oblivious to his plight. A mere boy and some Goblins fighting probably meant nothing to them. They''d seen far more interesting things in their many years of life.


    Beam began to process the fallen tree with such thoughts on his mind, hefting it up between a cluster of trees and mping it, then using the tree''s leverage to snap it continually.


    Of course, his leg pained him as he went. These tasks that were so easy before now took a significant amount of effort. But they were doable still, evencking his strength and steadily he worked through them.


    He hacked another couple of trees down ¨C that too taking more effort than normal. But once more, he got through it.


    Slowly he filled his sled up, until it got to half way full. Then, he paused to look at it doubtfully, wondering if he would really be able to manage to pull it along. They were quite a distance from the vige after all, since N had insisted that they go deeper to hunt that deer that she''d wanted.

 Chapter 92 The Unshakeable - Part 2

    Chapter 92 The Unshakeable - Part 2


    Back then, a whole log sled full of wood didn''t trouble him. He could walk for hours with it trailing along behind him without noticing. But now he was sure that he wouldn''t be able to pull a full one, especially not here, such a distance away from the worn-down trails.


    He tested that half-full cart, not even sure if he could pull that. And indeed, as he sat behind the handle, he found it was a significant struggle to get it moving. With his one leg not able to push into the ground as hard as it should, breaking the inertia of the still cart required a considerable effort.


    But he did manage.


    "Mm¡­" He paused, considering his situation. He''d promised N''s family two and a half sleds full of wood. He''d already delivered one of those. He could deliver this half full one too, and that would be progress. But it felt a little wasteful to him. At the very least, he thought he should at least fill it three-quarters full, and then do three-quarters again the next day, so that he could finish it off in just two trips.


    That would be pushing his beaten body, Beam knew, but his impatience governed him strongly and even as his leg throbbed from merely standing, he briefly assured himself that it would be fine and proceeded to cut down some more trees, filling the cart three-quarters full.


    And again, he sat behind the sled''s handle, sucked in a deep breath and attempted to move it.


    It didn''t even budge. It seemed like it was glued to the ground.


    Beam bit his lip in frustration. The soft soil of the forest didn''t make it easy for dragging heavy loads. Once he got on the worn-down trail, he knew things would be easier. So, convincing himself of that, he ignored the pain shooting through his leg and put even more force into it.


    "GAH!" He couldn''t help making such a noise, even though he knew his efforts to be pathetic by normal standards, but that was the terrible state his body was in. It took all that might and focus merely to get it to budge slightly.


    There was a battle raging in Beam''s soul as he attempted these tasks, as he demanded struggle from himself. The more he pushed himself through the pain, the closer he got to who he truly was, the more the soul resonated with mind and body. At times, he would even make contact with the essences udia and Ingolsol had left inside of him ¨C but such contact was apanied by such extreme revulsion that he would draw back and push forward in his usual way.


    And from that first budge, it took another step, even faster than thest, to gradually build up some momentum and get it truly moving.


    Three steps, and Beam was already drenched in sweat. And he had to go uphill now to find his way to the trail.


    His feet sunk into the soft earth as he tried to make progress. He ended up putting so much more strength through his uninjured leg that it started to feel like that too would soon have something wrong with it.


    Whilst still maintaining the momentum he needed to climb the hill, Beam desperately sought to make his march more sustainable, because with his injured leg in the state it was, it certainly would have no way of making it back to the vige.


    He tried shifting the position of his injured leg, seeing if he could work different muscles to lessen the pain. It worked, to a degree. If he was more on his toes, it hurt the wound to his quadriceps more. But if he sat back slightly and felt the tightness in his hamstrings, the pain lessened slightly.


    It was difficult getting ustomed to the unfamiliar way of moving, but even the slightest lessening of the pain was of enormous benefit to him and he soon managed to get his way onto the beaten-down trail, where the ground was much morepact and less liable to sink.


    He copsed to the ground upon reaching it, his breathing in ragged gasps and his leg throbbing. Hey on his back as he stretched the injured leg out in front of him, letting it rx so as to reduce the pain somewhat.


    He saw that his scab had cracked once more and this time it was a thin trail of blood that leaked out, rather than that yellowish fluid that seemed to be part of the inmmation process. Beam guessed it was likely because the swelling had all but gone.


    In his trousers with one leg cut off as he was, he realized that he''d have to make an effort to get his leg clean again before he delivered the wood, else he''d only be worrying N and her family. n/?/vel/b//jn dot c//om


    Then, in a few days'' time, once it stopped bleeding as often, he''d have to get a few new pairs of trousers from the marketce to get him through winter.


    Once his breath was recovered, he struggled back behind the handle of the sled and began the slow march back into town. It was certainly easier now, but it was far from easy. The constant throbbing pain required an endurance of the mind that was rare toe by, but still Beam pushed on, slowly but surely covering the long distance back towards the vige.


    What had taken him around an hour before now took him four hours. He''d left just after the sun hade up and now the sun was getting to past midday. Beam noted it as he left the forest, realizing that he''d have to be careful to make sure he got back before it got too dark.


    He dragged his sled along the road from the forest, as people shot him nces, likely wondering why he was dressed so strangely, with half of one of his trousers'' legs cut off. Then they''d see the wound on his leg and solve the riddle themselves before nodding and walking straight past him.

 Chapter 93: The Unshakeable - Part 3

    Beam kept his head down as he made his way to N''s house. Just before it came into view, he quickly cleaned his leg of blood. There wasn''t much of it, given the scab that was covering the wound, but there was enough to make him look like he was in a bad way. With that gone, he supposed he could at least feign some degree of health.


    With his sled outside of her house, Beam knocked on her door.


    He turned his back to walk a few steps away after knocking, but before he could make it back to his cart, the door had already opened and he heard a surprised shout from behind him. "My! Beam? What are you doing on your feet so early?"


    Beam turned to see N''s mother, with her young son David clutching her leg and her daughter peering out from behind him.


    "Ah, came to deliver the wood," Beam said awkwardly.


    "In your condition? We could have waited, you know! You should have let us wait! That was a foolish thing you''ve done," N''s mother said. Her shouting soon drew her other daughter to the door and N''s red hair peaked out from behind her.


    "What''s that idiot doing..?" Beam heard her say as she squeezed past her little brother and sister and walked out the door. "You''ve taken the stitches out already? It''s only been a week ¨C there''s no way it''ll have sealed up yet."


    Beam''s mother was in agreement, having more experience tending to the wounded than her. "Quite right ¨C with a wound like that, you should have at least waited two weeks before you took them out. And you definitely shouldn''t have been on your feet like this."


    Under the shower of angry concern, Beam just scratched his head awkwardly, knowing that their words came from a good ce, but not knowing quite how to deal with them. "Well¡­ I needed to get moving, you know? Besides, it isn''t too bad. It''s slowly getting back to normal."


    "No chance," N said, squatting down in front of him to look at it. "¡­Though it does look like it''s healed up quite well. What do you think, mother?"


    Her mother joined her in inspecting the wound and she too gave her approval. "¡­It''s definitely healed up quicker than it should¡­ But still! You''re in absolutely no condition to be walking yet. Even with the stitches out you should be waiting another couple of weeks before putting any weight on it."


    "I can''t," Beam said with a faltering smile.


    Seeing that look of weakness on his face made it harder for them to push him any further. "¡­Still, this wood, it''ll help us so much this winter. Thank you, Beam," N''s mother said, rubbing his head, before pulling him into a hug.


    "I''m going to get you another three-quarter full sled tomorrow," Beam told her once she''d released him. "Will that be enough to get youfortably through winter?"


    "More thanfortably," she said. "We''ll be able to make sure our home stays warm all the way through ¨C thank you again. With you and my gorgeous little N, this winter should be very manageable." She rubbed N''s head then too, as though she was afraid of leaving her out.


    N frowned, but let her hair be messed up anyway. She spoke to Beam. "Again tomorrow..? If you''re going to be pushing yourself like an idiot anyway, I should probablye with you, to keep an eye on you."


    "To make me carry your kills again?"


    "No!" Idiot! Even I''m not that insensitive," N said in irritation. "I''ll just hunt what I can carry myself this time, and then if you need help, I''ll be there to help you."


    "You don''t need to, you know," Beam said. "I might be injured, but it''s not like I''m paralyzed. I can manage."


    "We both saw the state of your leg ¨C you''re not fooling us. I don''t know how in the name of the Gods you''re standing on it, but I can bet it''s not easy. Otherwise you''d have brought a full sled, right?" N pointed out with a smile, as though seeing through him. "You''re the type of person who hates taking a single backward step."


    Beam frowned at that. "You don''t know me that well."


    N winced at the rebuke, looking hurt, but she soon fixed her face. It was true, after all. They''d only really known each other for all of two days before the Hobgoblin attacked. It wasn''t really enough to close the distance between them.


    "You''re stupid ¨C I don''t have to know you to see what you''re like," N replied haughtily. "Anyway, I''m going to unload this wood, so you canin all you want about meing tomorrow but I''ll be there anyway. Should I meet you in the forest? Since there''s no reason for you toe all the way here just to pick me up."


    Beam nodded hesitantly, notfortable with the consideration that she was showing him. "Sure¡­ I guess. I''ll meet you at the second stream, where it meets the main hunter''s trail."


    "That''ll do for me," N said, hefting an armful of wood. David copied her, taking what he could from the sled and carrying it into the house.


    They left Beam with N''s mother looking at him with sad eyes, making him ufortable. "You really pushed yourself bringing this sled today, didn''t you?"


    "I needed to get moving," Beam said evenly.


    She cast her eyes down to the floor. "I don''t know your circumstances¡­ But please take care of yourself. I know neither N or I know you very well ¨C but we appreciate what you''ve done for us. It would hurt us to see you hurt."


    Beam blinked a few times, unsure of how to respond. In the end, he settled on a simple and hesitant "thank you."


    Thedy nodded with a sunny smile, full of warmth and tenderness, and then she brushed past Beam to help unloading the sled. "N told me of the coins you gave her ¨C for those too, thank you."

 Chapter 94: The Unshakeable - Part 4

    "She killed those Goblins herself, it was only fair," Beam said.


    But N''s mother just smiled even wider at that, as though his words meant something else and she nodded knowingly, before disappearing inside the house.


    N came out for her second load, ncing back behind her as she saw her mother go inside. "¡­She''s really smiling. What were you two talking about?"


    "I don''t really know," Beam said, only half lying, for he knew the words they''d spoken, but he didn''t really know what they''d meant.


    "Hehhh¡­ Y''know, you''ve only been here for ten minutes and I''m somehow already sick of you. Silly me for worrying, huh?" N said, getting more wood.


    "You shouldn''t worry about me," Beam said seriously.


    "And why is that?" N asked, filling her green eyes with a false coldness, as though trying to threaten him. But in reality, it was herself she defended.


    "I don''t think I''m going to be making the right choices to keep people from their worry," Beam said, not quite knowing how to put it into words without saying it outright. In a week''s time, he once more nned to fight the Hobgoblin. That was a situation for worry. And there was the corpse soldier and giant spiders that needed ying before that. Those were situations for worry.


    There was too much worry to burden anyone with.


    "It doesn''t make you cool to push people away, you know," N said.


    "People have to get close before you push them away," Beam said.


    "Is that your way of telling me the other week meant nothing to you?" N asked, struggling to keep the hurt from her voice.


    "It''s my way of saying I don''t understand," Beam admitted, showing weakness.


    "Ah¡­" N said, surprised by the expression on Beam''s face, as he let his mask slip for just a second and his eyes shone with fear and pain. "If you don''t understand¡­ Maybe if you''re patient, I can try to teach you." She reached out to squeeze his hand and Beam looked up.


    "I keep getting toldtely that Ick patience," Beam said, with just the hint of a smile.


    "Hah¡­ That makes two of us, I guess. I suppose patience is something we''ll have to learn together," N said kindly. It was kinder than she had been to anyone, outside of her own family.


    "Hmm¡­ Are you two almost done?" N''s mother chose that moment to appear, with a coy grin on her face, as she saw N gently grasping Beam''s hand.


    N flushed red. "Guh¡­ I''m going to take this wood. Whatever you''re thinking mother, stop."


    "But I wasn''t thinking anything?" Her mother said, sticking her tongue out yfully as she teased her daughter.


    "Come, let me take those too," she told Beam, taking the wood that he''d gotten from the sled from his hands.


    Slowly, Beam was bing undone. A change was urring inside of him, as the pressures built up and the walls crumbled. He had never been so weak before in his life, not even when Ingolsol had first cursed him.


    Then, he was able to resist, through mere grit and struggle. Here, his grit and struggle were rebuked. It only brought with it more suffering. The world continued to ask something higher of him, something terrifying, something his mind could not even put into words. And yet still, he struggled.


    ...


    ¡­


    The ninth day. Beam awoke and his leg showed no improvement. In fact, the recoil from yesterday seemed substantial. When he first tried to stand up, he copsed from the pain.


    But even then, he gritted his teeth and forced himself up from the dirt and began his new morning routine of walking to get blood into the leg, then lifting stones, then running.


    By the time he was on to the stones, he was feeling much better. The soreness dissipated, and he was able to move a little more freely than he had yesterday. When he moved to lift the second stone, he was able to lift it three times before the pain overwhelmed him and he was forced to stop.


    Then, when he ran, he was able to do so with just the slightest bit more freedom than he had the previous day. The difference was so slight it may not even have existed, but given what had happened on the stones, Beam was sure it was there.


    He clenched his fist at the results. "Good¡­ Good. I made the right choice pushing myself," he affirmed. There was at least progress now, some improvement. He was slowly getting there. But the weight of the approaching time limit kept him from really celebrating his victory.


    With just a week and a half to go, he knew just how far he was frompleting those tests.


    However, in strategy at least, things finally seemed to be going well. Once more he yed Dominus and once more he pushed the old knight right to the limit. This time he lost by three units ¨C but those numbers were deceptive, for he''d actuallye the closest to victory he ever had.


    If just one more roll had been sessful, then his knights would have made it to Dominus'' exposed nks and dealt a winning strike.


    s, it was not meant to be quite yet, but with victory so close, Beam couldn''t help but feel happy about it. Finally, after all the effort he''d put into it, after all the suffering and the worry it had caused him, he was finally seeing proper results.


    Even Dominus spared him a bit of rare praise. "It would seem you''re finally showing some level ofpetence," he''d said, in a usual drypliment. Beam couldn''t help but smile upon receiving it.


    And then it was time to meet N to finish off his woodcutting for her family.


    The previous day he''d stashed his log sled where he knew them to be meeting, covering it in leaves and debris as he''d seen his master do for him. His axe he kept with him, though, lest he lose it.


    By the time Beam arrived, N was already ready and waiting, sitting on the log of a fallen tree, ying with the fletching of one of her arrows.


    She''d dressed warmly for the asion, more warmly than she had in weeks past, evidence that she was starting to feel the cold a bit. She now had a scarf around her neck and a woollen hat on her head, hiding all of her hair, aside from a thin braid of red that fell down to her cheek.

 Chapter 95: The Unshakeable - Part 5

    "Mm, does it not bother you having to hunt in a dress?" Beam asked, noting it. He figured it''d get in the way.


    "That''s what the trousers and boots are for," N said. Her woollen trousers peaked out from underneath her dress, allowing her to wear it shorter. And her leather boots ¨C a luxury for a family as poor as hers ¨C covered half her shins. "I''m still a girl though, after all. This is about as much as I can get away with.


    Besides, should you not be saying ''good morning'' before you start criticising my clothes?"


    "I wasn''t really criticising, I was just curious," Beam said, seeing that from the sh in her eyes, hisment had actually angered her.


    "Then keep your curiosity to yourself. I would much rather be dressed differently, y''know. I don''t need yourments making me feel worse about what I''m wearing," N said.


    "I''m not saying it looks bad, though¡­" Beam said.


    "Are you saying I look good then?" N teased.


    "¡­I''m going to fetch the sled," Beam said, deciding it was best to ignore her as he rummaged through the pile of leaves and dragged his sled out.


    N tutted as he dodged the question, but didn''t say any more on the matter. "Are we going to be staying around here then?" She asked. "It''ll be easier on your leg if we stay closer to the edge of the forest."


    "Oh? And here I was sure you''d drag me even deeper this time," Beam said.


    N twisted her lips at that. "That was just because we were hunting deer¡­ Besides, it wasn''t a problem when you weren''t hurt, was it? You made pulling the full sled look so easy, after all. I didn''t think it would tire you."


    "It wouldn''t. But I don''t think you were bothered about that, were you? A week ago, you were content to just use me as your luggage man," Beam pointed out.


    "C''mon, why are you being mean? I didn''t expect you to be in such a bad mood."


    "I''m not¡­ Hah, fine. I''m going to chop wood down then. Are you hunting?"


    "Mhm," N nodded. "We''ve still got a ways to go for meat if we''re going to have afortable winter. David and Stephanie are eating so much more now, and the meat I brought in before has already dried, so it''s about time we stocked up. I think there''s only a couple of weeks left before the cold starts reallying in."


    "Is that all you need to get you through the winter?" Beam asked. "Just the firewood and meat? Everything else is fine?"


    "Well, that''s all you were told to do by Greeves, wasn''t it? Make sure we had firewood and meat?" N said.


    "It was¡­ But, since you helped me, I''m beginning to see a benefit in having someone that I can exchange help with¡­ y''know?" Beam said awkwardly, not quite sure how to phrase the idea. In his head, he was thinking of Dominus'' lectures on the importance of allies.


    And then he was thinking back to just how much N''s family had helped him when he''d been sliced up by the Hobgoblin ¨C because to him, in his mind, that situation with the Hobgoblin was entirely his fault. And it was that family who''d helped him through that failure.


    "Hmm..?" N looked at him curiously, her green eyes seeming to search his face for something. Beam looked away ufortably, and she smiled. "Are you actually really kind, Beam?"


    "..? As I said, it would be more of a trade. I don''t think equal trades are necessarily kind," Beam said.


    But N already seemed happy with the conclusion she''d drawn, for she continued to smile. "Hmm¡­ Well if I had to say, it''s probably just money that we''re struggling with ¨C to buy extra clothes for David and Stephanie, since they''re growing so fast. That and we need it to buy the extra things that we can''t make ourselves." She said that with some hint of embarrassment.


    She knew if she''d said it to anyone else, then they''d be liable to look down on her. Money was seen as something that rewarded hard work ¨C if you didn''t have enough money, you just weren''t working hard enough.


    But Beam had a different view, and he nodded seriously when he heard that. "If it''ll help, you can hunt with me in the future."


    "Hunt? You mean like get some deer in and sell it for extra money?" N asked, tilting her head. She''d definitely considered hunting an excess to sell, but as she was, she didn''t know anyone that would be willing to buy off her. Well, that wasn''t true.


    She knew that if she offered up good quality meat, no butcher would turn her away¡­ But still she thought that she''d experience some difficulty in some sort of way because she wasn''t a true hunter. And she''d draw attention if she delivered too much. She wasn''t sure if that attention would end up being bad.


    "I meant monster hunting, since Greeves is willing to buy them. He hates doing it and alwaysins and he pays me way less than they''re worth ¨C but it''s still way better money than I''m used to," Beam said.


    N put a finger on her chin in thought. "¡­You did give me 5 coppers for those two Goblins, after all. Do you have more of those that you need to hunt?"


    Beam nodded. "I''ve got a giant spider quest and another Goblin hunting quest. I''m not sure how well giant spider parts sell, though, because I''ve never hunted them before."


    "But you really don''t need me at all, do you? You can easily deal with those yourself, like you did before. And if anything strong showed up again, I''d be holding you back¡­ This doesn''t seem like an equal trade. It''s really just you doing me a big favour," N said.


    Beam shrugged. He wasn''t going to lie to her and pretend that he needed her assistance. "It''s a way of making extra money if you''re interested. Your skill with the bow is the real deal and whatever you kill, I''ll sell to Greeves on your behalf."

 Chapter 96: The Unshakeable - Part 6

    "That''d be such a big help¡­ Even just ten coppers would make a world of difference," N mused. "Mother has been struggling to get the work she needs dely, so they''ve been paying her less. You should have seen her face when I gave her those 5 coppers ¨C it''s a huge deal to us, Beam."


    "I get it," Beam said. "When I was digging, I was only getting 10 coppers a month. Since working with Greeves, it''s been crazy to see the amount of options I have when ites to money. Even though I kinda have to pay in other ways¡­"


    "I can''t believe you managed on just 10 coppers a month all by yourself. People only get through because they pool their money together ¨C that''s why basically no one lives alone. And what do you mean you have to pay in other ways?" N asked, her eyes full of interest.


    "Ah¡­ Just, y''know. It''s a bit of a knife''s edge dealing with Greeves. I''m enjoying getting the extra money and the like, but it feels like I''m trying to bnce on a cloud or something. I feel like I''m going to pay for it in some way or another in the future," Beam said.


    "Hm¡­ I hope you can manage to get away from him soon, then. But with your skills, I''m sure you could make lots more money doing something like body guarding," N said. "But how do I repay you for letting me hunt with you? Is there anything you need?"


    "I mean, just having someone there to stitch me up when I get injured is nice. My master says he isn''t good at stitching other people and he''d probably make a mess of me," Beam said, almostughing.


    "No! Please don''t make a habit of getting injured. The worry is way too much to deal with. I need something safer¡­ What about meat? I can hunt a few deers for you and your master... But I guess if you do get injured again, I''m not going to turn you away."


    "Sure, meat is good. It would probably be more straightforward for you to just hunt deers and sell it yourself, but if this is what you want to do, then it works for me," Beam said.


    "Great ¨C it''s settled then," N beamed. "A pleasure doing business," she said, with a mock bow, and Beamughed. "I''m going to go and hunt then ¨C good luck with your chopping."


    "Yeah, yeah. Get going. I won''t be too long," Beam said, smiling as he dismissed her.


    He watched her jog away and skid down the slope, the skirt of her dress pping as she moved, leaping across the stream like a deer.


    "Heh," Beam said, feeling a little warm as he watched her. "Well, I better get started," he said before hefting his axe up and leaving the trail himself, in search of any dead standing trees that he might fell.


    Even swinging his axe today felt a little better than before. Slowly but surely he felt his strengthing back. His scab cracked again as he worked, leaving the slightest trickle of blood, but he paid it no mind and continued his shift.


    With how good he was feeling that morning, he was half tempted to fill the sled to the top. It was three-quarters full at this point, and he eyed it in consideration. "I''m not far from the vige today and I''m not far from the trail either¡­ a whole sled full is probably worthwhile.


    Besides, I pushed myself yesterday and I feel better today for it ¨C maybe I just need to force the muscles to get moving again."


    As he thought that aloud, he moved behind the handle of the sled to give it an experimental push, to see just how much of his strength had returned.


    It moved, but not without a great bit of exertion. In fact, the difference between today and yesterday when it came to the sled seemed to be absolutely minimal. If he wasn''t careful, he was sure he''d find himself stuck in the soft forest soil, unable to move it.


    But now that he had it on his mind and now that he knew he was so much closer to the vige, it felt like a waste to move without filling the whole thing up. Losing the battle of will against himself, he went back to chopping and filled it right to the brim.


    Just as he was loading thest of the chopped bits of wood into the sled, N made her return.


    With two rabbits in one hand and a grouse and a squirrel in the other and her bow slung over her shoulder, she was red faced and struggling as she carried them.


    "Phe," she said, putting them down to rest by Beam''s sled.


    "All done?" Beam asked.


    "Mhm," N nodded. "I missed a fat squirrel though and broke an arrow¡­ I could have had more."


    "Ah, unfortunate. I didn''t think you were capable of missing," Beam teased.


    N frowned unhappily. "Of course I am ¨C it took loads of missing to get anywhere near this good¡­ And what the hell have you done to your leg now!?"


    She caught sight of the small trail of blood leading from Beam''s wound. He had forgotten to clean it. He merely nced at it and shrugged. "Just growing pains ¨C or healing pains, I guess. The scab cracked."


    N groaned. "You just hate taking care of yourself, don''t you? And what''s this! You''ve filled the sled all the way up! You''re pushing yourself even more! How are you going to be able to shift all that weight with just one leg?"


    "I managed yesterday," Beam reminded her.


    "I know you did ¨C but that was three quarters full. I thought you were at least being sensible and limiting yourself since you were injured, but now, straight away, you just can''t help yourself from filling it all the way to the top," N scolded him.


    "It''ll be fine, we''re much closer to the vige. Besides, I need to get my strength built back up, so this is helping. We''re going to go hunting next week, after all," Beam said.


    "Next week!? That early!? By hunting you mean Goblins and giant spiders, right? I mean, as I said earlier, I''m grateful that you''re helping me by letting mee with you ¨C but you''re in no state to be fighting anything. Goblins really are dangerous, y''know?" N said.

 Chapter 97: The Unshakeable - Part 7

    But Beam was already getting behind the handle of his sled, readying himself to attempt to push it. He gritted his teeth, tensed his muscles, and pushed. And it didn''t even budge.


    N nced at him with a knowing look. "I told you¡­" She murmured. "Just take it slow, idiot."


    But Beam wasn''t one to give up there. "GAH!" He bellowed, putting even more force into it, waking his injured leg up and making it bear the burden despite his body''s aversion. He got another shallow stream of blood from his wound for his efforts, but the sled shifted, breaking its inertia and he continued taking quick strides, pulling it up the hill.


    He noticed N''s expression even as he pushed. He could have sworn she looked impressed, but in truth, that look was more one of apprehension as she kept ncing at his leg, half expecting it to fall off.


    "So reckless," she muttered, picking up her kills and following up after him.


    Beam made it to the trail and continued pushing himself, even as his leg cried out in pain and he grew out of breath. He didn''t regret putting the extra wood in. He just saw it as more training, as a route to getting healed up faster.


    In fact, it was N that tired first. Halfway to the edge of the forest, her arms grew so tired from clutching her kills that one of the rabbits slipped free of her grasp and dropped to the ground.


    "Throw it on," Beam said, without pausing, knowing that if he stopped now, he wouldn''t be able to get moving again.


    "I can''t force more work on you like that," N said, as she hurried to catch up with him, picking up the rabbit that she''d dropped. But with how red her face was, Beam could tell she wasn''tsting much longer.


    "A couple of rabbits won''t change the weight much ¨C it''s easier in the sled. Just throw them on. It''ll be easier on me if we can move faster," Beam said.


    "But¡­" N tried to rebuke him, but couldn''t think of anything. Her arms were already tiring, after all. Knowing that she would be more of a burden if she kept slowing him down, she cautiously put the two rabbits on top of the sled, eyeing Beam as she did so, seeing if their weight would hinder him much.


    But she didn''t detect the slightest hint of change in his expression. As Beam had said, the weight of two rabbits likely felt like nothingpared to all the wood he was dragging along.


    She sighed in shame, shifting her squirrel to her free hand and holding the grouse in the other. It was much easier now, but she couldn''t help but feel like a burden.


    "I keep holding you back," she mumbled.


    "We all have our strengths," Beam said, "I don''t have much use outside of these couple of things. It''s fine if you leave them to me."


    "But you''re dragging a whole sled full of wood and I can''t even manage a couple of rabbits¡­ I''m pretty pathetic," N said.


    "For a girl, I think you''re pretty good," Beam said. But then he caught N''s expression and realized it was the wrong thing to say. She hated it when he said things like that.


    "I need to get stronger," she said, gritting her teeth in annoyance.


    Beam didn''t say anything more, for he understood that sentiment far too well. It was a thought that burned in his heart several hours a day. An idea that stirred every time he found himselfcking.


    ''There''s work to be done,'' he told himself, pulling harder on his sled as he remembered all that he needed to do.


    He dropped the sled full of wood off at N''s house again, much to the gratitude of her mother. She''d actually cried seeing the cart full to the very top and hugged him once again. Beam had only been able to smile awkwardly as he helped unload the cart and say goodbye to N.


    Before she disappeared inside, he called out to her. "I''lle and get you when I next n to hunt," he said.


    She nodded with a smile. "Thank you, Beam," she said sweetly. When she spoke as clearly as that and with a face as pretty as she had, it would be easy to mistake her for a noble woman. But that illusion neversted long. Before she''d even got the door closed, she''d torn off her hat and messed up her hair, shouting that keeping it neat was annoying.


    Left standing there like that, Beam had been struck wondering what to do next. The sun was well past its highest point in the sky and there were only a few hours of daylight left. But now that he was in the vige, it felt like a waste to just leave.


    He recalled the other quests that Greeves had given him. One had been to help fill in the ditches in the major roads before winter struck, and even though his leg throbbed and tiredness assailed him, Beam had figured he may as well get started on that now.


    He''d knocked back on N''s house and asked to borrow a spade. Both she and her mother had told him off for pushing himself again, but eventually they had relented after he told them it was for a job. With a spade in hand, he went over to one of the worse ditches in the road.


    It was deep on both sides of the road, where the wooden wheels of horse-drawn carts had gauged through the soft mud on rainy days, leaving permanent ever-increasing holes that all but promised that any cart that passed through there would get stuck.


    Beam began by filling the ditches on either side of the road with stones. That took him a good couple of hours. Then, just with thest hour of daylight, he shovelled some soil and filled them uppletely.


    And all the while, as Beam performed these menial tasks, he was searching. He was searching for that which would finally ovee this increasing amount of resistance that he was feeling. Some way of curing the aching of his heart, of dealing with the deep dread that was building up inside of him.

 Chapter 98: The Unshakeable - Part 8

    But more than that, Beam was looking for the way to get stronger. With the position he was in ¨C a desperate position. He saw meaning in the most trivial of things. He saw it in N''s eyes, as she hunted, in the determination she felt. He saw it in the warmth that she showed to her family and friends.


    He was hung up on such things ¨C wondering if he was missing that, if that was what was making him weak.


    It was in his spade too, the way it stabbed into the earth and hefted up the dirt for him. It made him wonder if that was what he wascking, maybe he just didn''t have the right tool for the job.


    As his soul fell apart under the endless onught of two Gods, both with very different intentions, his heart opened to every possibility, looking for salvation wherever he could.


    With that, he called his work done for the day and returned the spade to N. There were still ditches to be filled and there was onest house to check on for firewood, but progress was being made and Beam was satisfied.


    On the tenth day, things moved much the same as the ninth. There were slight improvements to Beam''s strength as he marched around the campground again and then tried his hand at the stones. This time he was able to lift the second stone 5 times.


    He wasn''t sure if it was simply that he was building up a tolerance to the pain or whether he was actually recovering ¨C but still Beam was at least pleased that things seemed to be moving in a positive direction.


    He hadn''t managed to best Dominus at Battle that morning either, nor the night before, but the games now were far morepetitive than they were before and each one of them came down to a knife''s edge.


    Still, Beam felt a slight bitterness every time he lost, and that bitterness needed to be directed into progress in some sort of direction. So into the vige he went with his log cart and he knocked on thest door on his list of people who needed food and firewood.


    The family was not nearly as bad off as N''s. They''d managed to sort their food situation out themselves, and for wood, they only really needed a sledfull to get them through. Beam had nodded his understanding and disappeared into the forest to get it done.


    A few hourster, he was back, havingpleted his task. The family thanked him gratefully, far more friendly to him than they had ever been in the past.


    And like that, two of the longest quests that Beam had been given by Greeves werepleted. One, checking that everyone in the vige had firewood, and two, making sure that everyone had enough food for the winter. With that, he''d earned a full silver coin. Beam smiled, imagining the money.


    But there were indeed a few hours left in the day and so he set to work on the ditches once more, filling the holes with rocks before filling them with soil using the spade that he''d once more borrowed from N.


    And in that very same day, he managed toplete that task as well, raising his earnings up to a full silver and 5 coppers.


    "Now that''s more like it," he said to himself with a smile, feeling a sense of progress, not knowing that such progress ¨C just as it had when he was promoted at his job ¨C it was pushing him forward, to a point that he might not survive.


    By the time he knocked on the door to return the spade to N, it was already getting dark. It was the girl herself who answered the door, wearing a nicer dress than Beam usually saw her wear. It was of green threads, with a white bossom. She cut a striking figure in it, even though she''d apparently forgotten tob her hair again and it looked wild as ever.


    "Thanks," Beam said, holding the spade out to her.


    "You''ve gotten yourself pretty dirty¡­" N said, wrinkling her nose as she epted the spade back from him. "And it''s dark too. Have you been out working all this time?"


    "Better now than before the ground starts freezing up, right?" Beam said.


    "Well, that might be true if you weren''t walking on half a leg. Seriously. If you just held back a little, you''d be doing yourself a huge service," she chided.


    "Naw, it''s getting better every day," Beam assured her.


    "I can see you bleeding right in front of me!" N shouted, unconvinced.


    "My, is that Beam? It''s getting dark, dear. Will you be fine getting home? Do you want to spend the night here? There''s a warm stew on with fresh rabbit in from what N caught today," N''s mother appeared, smiling warmly as she saw Beam.


    Beam nced at N to gauge her reaction, but she just shrugged, not seeing an issue. "You can if you want. There''s a spare bed that dad used to sleep in. You could use it if you needed to."


    But Beam shook his head. "I appreciate the offer, but I''d better go and see Greeves. It shouldn''t bepletely dark by the time I head back. Besides, I''m used to walking the forest in the dark by now."


    "Used to it you might be, but when you can''t see where you''re going, even experienced hunters are prone to getting lost. It''s very easy to get confused with the cold and lose yourself to it ¨C you ought to be more careful," Beam''s mother told him.


    "I''ll be fine," Beam assured her.


    "Always putting himself in tricky spots, isn''t he?" She said, ncing at N who nodded firmly in agreement.


    "He''s stupid like that, but he seems pretty resilient, so I guess it''s pointless us worrying," N said.


    "Will you be passing through again tomorrow?" Her mother asked. "If you do, stop by, won''t you? I''ll make you something nice and warm for lunch. That, and I''ll be able to check whether or not you really made it home okay."

 Chapter 99: The Unshakeable - Part 9

    "I think I probably might be," Beam said. He was about to decline her offer for lunch out of habit, but through his conversations with N, even the socially inept Beam was beginning to learn somewhat. He was making it difficult for them by constantly refusing any attempts they made to repay him. "If I''m free at lunchtime, I''ll stop by. That sounds nice."


    Both women blinked in surprise at his agreement, before they smiled, nearly at the exact same time. "It seems even you''re learning a bit," N said teasingly. "You''d better make sure toe. These rabbits that I''ve caught aren''t just any rabbits ¨C they''re the tastiest, I made sure of it before I caught them."


    "Right right. I''m sure they''re great. I''ll do my best toe," Beam said. "But for now, I''d better go before it gets any darker. Good night."


    "Good night, Beam! Careful on your way home."


    "Make sure you don''t walk into a tree."


    Beam waved as he turned his back and made his way across towards the vige square and towards Greeves'' house. The merchants were already packing up their stalls as he neared the marketce. He noted one stall selling clothes for the winter and he remembered that he was in dire need of new trousers.


    He''d been walking around the past few days with half a trouser leg on one side cut off, and he was beginning to feel somewhat ridiculous.


    He made up his mind to buy a pair if the merchants were still around when he finished with Greeves.


    He knocked on the door to Greeves'' house and Judas answered a momentter. Beam looked at him with a raised eyebrow. "Even in the evening, you''re quick to answer," he said.


    "Not aste as the sky would tell you, just ''cos the days are getting shorter. The boss keeps me working eight hours a day, so no matter how dark the sky gets, it doesn''t make no difference to me. Are youing in?" Judas said.


    "Yeah, I''ve finished up some quests," Beam said, stepping up into the house.


    "Oh? Your leg feeling better already? You''ve got some lizard blood in you if you''re healing that fast¡­" Judas said, ncing at his leg. "Mm¡­ it looks much better than it did when Ist saw ya, but damn, it''s still in a bad way. You sure you should be out walking on this?"


    "Probably not, but there''s stuff to do," Beam said, as they made their way deeper in to Greeves'' house. Candles had been lit as well as fires, and they cast a dim glow on the walls as they passed through.


    "Well, the boss''ll be pleased to hear it, I tell ya. He''s been having some rough interactionstely ¨C so hasn''t been in the best of moods," Judas told Beam, just before they crossed the threshold into Greeves'' office.


    "Who''s not been in the best of moods?" Greeves asked icily, without looking up from his work. He was busy scribbling on a piece of paper with a quill in hand. Only when he''d finished his sentence did he finally set the pen aside. "Ah, the man of every hour. Young Beam, mm? You''d better have some good news for me, boy, cos I''m up to my eyeballs in shit right now."


    "I finished the wood quest and the food quest and I''ve finished filling in the ditches too," Beam told him, noticing that there was shattered ss all over the floor, presumably from where Greeves had thrown something at the wall.


    "Hoh, now that is good news," Greeves said with a nod. "The two longest quests are all done. Excellent, excellent. How long did that take you to recover? Ten days? You back to full health now?"


    "Not quite," Beam said, "but I''m slowly getting there."


    "Mm¡­" Greeves tapped his finger against his desk as though irritated. "And this matter with the Hobgoblin? You still willing to take it on?"


    "I am. In around a week," Beam said.


    "This is getting to be a more serious matter than it was before, boy," Greeves informed him. "See, the bnce of things has fallen out of my favour. Some of the little schemes I''ve had set in ce are starting to tumble. They need something to prop them up. The corpse of that Hobgoblin you y will do just that ¨C it''ll keep me in the green. Y''see now that there''s more riding on this, don''t ya?


    If you fuck up, that''s it for you," Greeves told him, pointing a finger at him as he spoke his threats.


    Beam had to stifle augh. "Greeves," he said seriously, "I''m going to be fighting a Hobgoblin. Threatening to kill me outside thatcks meaning. If I fail, I''m dead anyway."


    "Mm¡­ True enough, but you''re really going to piss me off if you fail. I''ll sell your corpse as dog meat," he said, meaning every word. "And what kind of de are you looking for? You better not be setting me too out of pocket with it."


    At that question, the sword that immediately shed through Beam''s mind was his master''s gently curved long sword. It wasn''t quite as long as the swords that warriors often used, nor was its thrusting power as good, but as a tool of shing, he couldn''t imagine a more elegant de.


    "Have you ever seen a long sword with a slight curve in it? It''s a bit shorter than normal," Beam asked.


    "Not happening," Greeves said dismissively. "Those swordse across the Salt Sea ¨C no one uses em'' around here. Would have to get it custom-made at a smith. Be far too expensive. Definitely not happening. But if you want a de that''s slightly shorter, without the curve, then you''d want a bastard sword.


    I can get you one of those."


    Beam frowned a moment in disappointment. "¡­I suppose that''ll do."


    Greeves grunted at that and wrote something down on a scrap of paper. "Now, back to those quests. You sorted wood, food and the ditches in the roads, yeah? Good. A little letter to Ferdinand and that should keep me in the green," he reached into his drawer and withdrew his coin pouch, plucking out a silver coin and five coppers, before sliding it across the table to Beam.


    Beam reached for them, but Greeves kept his hand mped over them in ce as he looked the boy in the eye. "Your name will be on the Elder''s mind now. I don''t care what the old bastard does ¨C do not let it interfere with these quests. They needpleting. If you fail in this, you''ll have lived out your use to me and we will once more be enemies."


    "I don''t consider you anything less than that now," Beam said evenly.


    Greeves grinned nastily at that and released his hand, letting Beam take the coins. "We''ve run into luck with the iron quest. After two years of digging, those digger boys have finally uncovered a bit more of that iron vein. Speak to the smith and he''ll tell you how much iron he needs, and you''ll be able to get it done in one fell swoop.


    Other than that, don''t forget the scouting quests or thest of the monster-hunting ones."


    Beam nodded. "Is that it then?"


    "Always impatient. You''re a pain in the arse to deal with ¨C especially when I''m already pissed. Yeah, go on, get going. I''ll look into getting this sword of yours and you can choose what you want next time you''re here. But you get those quests done and you get your leg healed up, there''s no room for failure," Greeves said.


    With that, Beam nodded again and made to leave. Judas walked him out.


    "You really need to stop pushing the boss like that," Judas told him as Beam was going out the front door. "One day, he''s going to snap and things will get nasty for ya. I''ve seen it happen a couple of times."


    "I''ll keep that in mind," Beam said as he stepped out.


    Judas shook his head as he closed the door behind him.


    It was already nearlypletely dark outside, but some of the merchants were still busy putting away their stalls. Beam hurried up to a couple of the clothes dealers and managed to get himself a new set of trousers and a new coat, of higher quality than anything he''d worn in the past. Dark blue trousers of wool and a matching dark blue coat, with white wool coring his neck.


    With that, Beam made his way back to the forest, concluding the tenth day.


    On the eleventh day, Beam had begun training with his master again, practising his martial arts and running and the stones. His leg still bothered him, but he forced the progress anyway and slowly but surely got his range of motion back.

 Chapter 100: The Slayers Return - Part 1

    He''d also managed toplete the ore-gathering quest in the same day, receiving his 5 coppers for his efforts. And at lunch with N''s family, he''d promised to meet with her to hunt giant spiders on the twelfth day, after getting the information he needed for it from Greeves.


    And so, after his morning training, he set out to do just that.


    He''d agreed to meet N at her house, nning to get his scouting mission out of the way at the same time. Instead of leaving the forest by his normal route, he set off further to the west, continuing along the border where the trees met the ins until he''d covered quite the distance and the vige grew small behind him.


    Then, from there, he left the trees, crossing the ins as he kept the same distance from the vige, scouting its perimeter as he had been told to.


    He covered all this ground at a lumbering jog. The limp in his leg was only slight now. Not because the pain had disappeared, but merely because Beam forced it to behave thusly. He''d forced himself to endure the pain and at least produce some semnce of how he used to move.


    All the while as he ran, he was thinking about how he might solve the problem that he had. Of course, there was his injury ¨C that was an obstacle. But beyond that, there was that wall that felt as though it was coiling around him, restricting his progress. He wanted to see if he could ovee it today, as he hunted the spiders.


    He thought that since his strengths had left him, he''d be forced to discover something new.


    Of course, he was slower than he was. He had only just managed to recover his ability to sprint ¨C but when he did, his leg wound would leak a good amount of blood, so he held off it.


    Along his route through the ins, around the perimeter of the vige, he spied nothing, save for a herd of wild horses ying in the distance and the blue edge of what he thought might be the Salt Sea ¨C before telling himself he was nowhere near close enough to catch sight of it, and it must have been the sky that he''d spied.


    With that, satisfied he''d covered at least the western perimeter well enough, he moved to meet N. The quest was only to check the north, east and west, since the south had already been confirmed to be safe. And since Beam and his master lived in the north, that area was already thoroughly scouted, which just left the eastern ins to be checked for the quest''spletion.


    "You''re already out of breath," N noted, as she stepped out of her house with her bow in her hand and a leather quiver over her shoulder, filled with arrows.


    "Training," Beam told her. "I need to quickly get back to what I once was."


    "New trousers too? I bet you''re bleeding again under them," she said.


    Beam could feel that he was and seeing the slightest darkening of the wool around the thigh, he half regret wearing them. It seemed like a waste to let such new clothes get dirty.


    "Well, you definitely look better. Maybe if you cut your hair, you might even be handsome," she said, when she saw that he was making no move to reply.


    "Are you ready? I want to jog there, if you can manage it. I need to get the training in," Beam said.


    "I can¡­ But are you really sure this is a good idea at all? I mean, it''s only been a little over a week since you got cut so badly. Don''t you feel like you''re rushing it?" N said, her eyes betraying her genuine concern.


    "I can''t let such a shallow wound slow me. Let''s get going," Beam said, moving to run.


    "Ah! Wait up! Where are we headed again?" N asked as she ran to catch up with him.


    "Over the mountain river," Beam told her, "there''s a giant spider colony grouping up. They''re starting to cause trouble."


    "But don''t giant spiders usually live alone? I thought they only got together to breed?"


    "I guess that''s why it''s a problem," Beam said.


    "Are we really going to be alright? Giant spiders are pretty strong, you know, and if they''re grouped up like this, that seems like it''ll be a problem," N said.


    "Mhm, I guess so. It''s my first time fighting any, so we''ll find out. Master said that they''re only a bit stronger than Goblins though, so I''m not too worried. Besides, I have you today, don''t I?" He said that part with the mischievous grin that he''d learned from Dominus, a look that filled anyone who beheld it with a sense of foreboding.


    "..? Why do I suddenly feel scared?" N said.


    "Well, I''m pretty weak at the moment, so we''re going to have to use a little bit of strategy to keep us safe," Beam said.


    "Guhh¡­ I thought this would be easy money, but now I''m just uneasy. This is really going to be okay, right?" N asked.


    "Rx. I won''t let any get close to you," Beam said.


    "Now I''m even more uneasy! You know how poisonous these things are, right!? You''re not going to try and duel them like Goblins, are you? Please don''t get hurt again," N shouted.


    But Beam didn''t reply. A momentter they entered the treeline, with Beam taking the lead on his unstable leg, heading up the dirt path covered in pine needles that began the trail deep into the forest.


    They jogged for nearly half an hour like that until they reached the mountain river, at a point further downstream from where Dominus took Beam to train. N was out of breath as she looked down the ravine, putting her hands on her knees to try and recover.


    "What¡­ What now?" She asked.


    Beam was in a simrly bad way, given his injury, but he was considerably morefortable in that ce of fatigue, for he''d grown used to it in recent weeks.

 Chapter 101: The Slayers Return - Part 2

    "We go down," Beam said. It was a shallower ravine than what he was used to, though topensate for that, the river was a little wider. Still, the crossing seemed as though it would be easy, for there was a considerable amount of debris caught amongst the rocks.


    "Down there..?" N asked. "Aren''t we a bit¡­ a bit high up?" Her red hair clung to her forehead, and she held her woollen hat in her hands, having grown far too warm on the run there.


    "Do you want me to hold your hat?" Beam asked. "You''re going to need at least one free hand to scramble down."


    "I can just put it back on," N said. "I don''t need you to look after me."


    "Okay," Beam said as he walked past her, "let''s get going then." Just before he descended over the ledge, he snatched her hat from her loose fingers and went skidding down to the first of his footholds, which just so happened to be a small tree.


    "Hey!" N called after him. "You better not get my hat dirty."


    The hat was pure white, of all things. Not exactly suited to staying clean.


    "Besides¡­ How''d you get down there? Are you sure it''s safe?" She asked, unable to hide her unease.


    "Are you scared of heights?" Beam asked, just guessing.


    She didn''t deny it, but she didn''t look overly happy to admit it. "A bit¡­ But it''s not exactly just heights, this is just dangerous, isn''t it? If we slip, we''ll fall all the way down to the rocks."


    "Just follow where I go," Beam said, "and if you slip, I''ll be able to catch you."


    "But then I''ll already be filthy¡­" Nined. "Besides, who''s there to catch you when you slip?"


    Beam shrugged. "I guess I''ll catch myself. C''mon." He skidded down to the next obstacle, making his movements look effortless as he covered a considerable distance on the steep muddy cliff. This was one thing that his injured leg didn''t detract much from.


    N watched in admiration. It seemed like magic to her, for she was unused to scaling such steep surfaces. Confronted with an obstacle like this on one of her hunting trips, she''d tend to avoid it.


    It was only with Beam so far in front that she dared to crouch down and attempt to skid to the tree where he''d just been, fearing that he would leave her behind.


    She let out a yelp as her legs slipped out in front of her and she went the whole way down on her bottom, until she reached the tree and it stopped her.


    "No¡­." She groaned, feeling her bottom. The dress over her trousers was covered in slick mud. Her eyes sank unhappily. She turned toin to Beam, only to see the wide grin on his face, as though he''d never seen anything funnier. "Don''tugh," she pouted. "It isn''t funny.


    I''m going to be muddy the whole way there now."


    "Haha, you''ll be fine. At least now you don''t have to worry about staying clean, since you''re already dirty," Beam said. "C''mon down already, I''ll stay here to make sure you don''t slip again. Watch your hands on thetles. I stung my fingers on them."


    Reluctantly, N did as she was told, sliding down to the rocky ledge that Beam was sitting on. This time, she didn''t slip.


    "Nettles," Beam said again, pulling her hand away from where she''d been about to ce it ¨C right in a patch of stingingtles.


    "Ah, thanks," she said awkwardly, taking her hand back.


    "See? We''re already halfway down. It''s not too bad, right?" Beam said, pointing. The rocky shore of the river bank was now much closer than it had been before. It still didn''t look like an inviting ce to fall, but at least it wasn''t quite so scary.


    "But aren''t we stuck now? There''s nowhere to go," N said, looking for a way down.


    "You''ve got to get creative," Beam said. Truthfully, ahead, there was indeed nothing solid for them to anchor themselves on to. But that was only if you looked for something solid. There were still rotting tree trunks that would serve the purpose of slowing them down slightly.


    Beam jumped onto the slope, letting gravity carry him. By nature, Beam was already good at sensing his bnce, as he''d shown Dominus weeks before. But now, it was effortless. He knew exactly where his weighty and he could push himself to the point of recklessness.


    Just before it looked like he''d be sent sliding all the way down to the rocks below, he grabbed on to arge rotting tree trunk to slow himself just enough that he could change his direction. Then hended on a ledge that N hadn''t even seen. She couldn''t help but be a little impressed.


    "Okay¡­" she said, feeling a little anxious. "Now how exactly am I supposed to do that?"


    "Use the trunk I dragged along. It''s wedged in ce now," Beam said, pointing to the rotten tree trunk that was about the thickness of his upper leg. It was wedged solidly between two trees now, offering afortable staircase for anyone that wanted to descend.


    N hadn''t even noticed. It was a smoother manoeuvre than she''d given him credit for. It made her descent much easier, and before long, they were standing on the banks of the river together, looking for a way to cross.


    "Now what?" She asked, as the water rushed by in front of them.


    "What do you think? We''ve got quite a few options. There''s that little bit of a rocky ind in the middle there. There''s that shallower section over here too, with those stones that can be used like stepping stones, or there''s that log over there," Beam said.


    The river was wider here and fast, but not quite as fast as upstream because of the increased width. With that speed, it wouldn''t be impossible to swim it, but it would still be a little too dangerous for them to attempt itfortably.

 Chapter 102: The Slayers Return - Part 3

    "I think I''d rather swim it if anything," N said. "But it seems too cold for that."


    The reply surprised Beam, and he raised an eyebrow. "You''re a good swimmer?"


    N shrugged. "I''m better at swimming than running, anyway. My dad was a shepherd, you see, and the sheep would always get stuck across rivers and littlekes and we''d have to swim over and drag them back."


    "Oh? That sounds pretty fun, actually," Beam said, tilting his head.


    N giggled. "It was," she said, and then her eyes saddened for a moment, as though recalling a memory.


    "Anyway, since you''refortable swimming, I guess we don''t really have to worry. I''m not really a good swimmer, but I should be able to get to the side at least," Beam said. "I think our best bet is to just let our feet get wet and aim for the little ind in the middle."


    "I hate the feeling of wet feet¡­" Nined, but Beam was already wading into the river up to his ankles. It was shallower nearer the shore. From there, there was a group of rocks that he climbed up on, stepping from rock to rock with ease, beforending in the middle.


    N followed. The water didn''t make it past the top of her boots and she grinned. The stones were slippier than she expected, but shended triumphantly next to Beam on the central ind.


    "My feet are perfectly dry," she said with a teasing smile. "Jealous?"


    "Definitely," Beam said, eyeing her leather boots. "I didn''t know leather was waterproof, though."


    "If you wax it, it is," N told him. "It''s really expensive, though. My mother saved for months to get me these."


    "Heh¡­ I wonder if I''ll get a pair one day?" Beam said, moving his toes inside hispletely soaked shoes. "Well, let''s get over. There''s still a little ground to cover till we get into giant spider territory, but we should go cautiously from here."


    N''s expression became serious, and she nodded.


    Clearing the rest of the river was easier after that middle ind and they made it to the other side without issue. Here, unlike further upstream, there was not another tall cliff face to great them. Instead, there was an almost gently sloping hill with a twisting route that went up it.


    They made their way to the top of it in silence, both of them eyeing the dense pine trees in front of them. There was something in the air about here that reeked of danger. It was a different sense than the Goblins gave, but one simrly ufortable.


    "From here, we should move on guard," Beam said. "Master said they live high up in the trees, so if we''re lucky, we''ll catch one or two unawares. That''ll be your job."


    "Is this the strategy you were talking about earlier?" N asked.


    Beam grimaced. "To be honest, even though I''ve been learning a little bit, I don''t really know how to apply strategy to real life¡­ I can only really go by what seems sensible. I think I''ll just try and create opportunities for you tond your shots, whilst making sure the spiders don''t group up."


    N shrugged. "That still sounds like a good strategy to me."


    "You need to make sure you don''t let any get close to you, though. If theye behind us, make sure you stay close to me so I can defend you," Beam said.


    "Got it. Are you going to be okay fighting with your leg, though?" N asked again, for what must have been the hundredth time in thest few days.


    Beam thought back to his martial arts training that he''d just started up again with his master in thest two days. Things were going dreadfully on that front. He couldn''tnd any kicks with either leg, for when he attempted to throw one with his good leg, his injured leg wasn''t able to support his body weight well enough to generate force.


    As a result, Dominus had made him focus more on using his arms and on minimal movement, being more steady and only moving as little or as much as he needed to. So far, none of those lessons had taken a proper root, and deep down, Beam knew he was being reckless to attempt to fight so soon. But still, he didn''t have a choice with so little time.


    "I''ll make it work," he told her. "But I am counting on your bow."


    N nodded again, struggling to hide a smile despite the circumstances. It made her feel unreasonably good to have someone rely on her hunting skills. The skills that until recently, no one had properly recognized. "Be careful, though. The spider''s poison might be weak, but if you get enough of it in you, you''ll definitely die. Even a little scratch will make you sick for a couple of days."


    "So we''re looking for a perfect run, huh?" Beam said with a grin. "Then I''m counting on you."


    With thosest few words exchanged, they moved cautiously through the trees.


    It was not long before they saw the first signs of spider life. Thick ropey webs hung from the trees likes. The webs were rather torn up and frail looking here, not appearing to be in use, but it was the warning they needed to keep their guards up.


    A short walkter and they saw the cocooned remains of what appeared to be a wild pig, covered in webs and squirted with gastric juices, digested whilst it was still alive.


    "¡­Just how big are these things?" Beam murmured. When he heard of giant spiders, he was thinking more about the size of a small cat. Something jumpy and annoying. But from the size of their webs and the size of their prey, they seemed to be somethingrger.


    "They''re about the size of that pig ¨C just with horrible legs added on," N said. She was continually scanning the tops of the trees, an arrow notched on her bowstring, ready to be drawn at a single moment''s notice. Beam led the way, but stayed close to her in case of a surprise attack.


    By the corpse of the pig was where Beam paid the most attention. He slowed his footsteps so much it was almost as though he was standing still, and then he cast his senses outwards, searching for signs of life.

 Chapter 103: The Slayers Return - Part 4

    N found it first. She shot without warning, as they had discussed she would.


    There was a hiss from a creature as it cried out in pain, before it died a momentter. A corpse fell wetly to the floor, sliding off the branch of a tall pine tree. Itnded with a stter, casting green blood around it.


    Beam gripped his knife tightly, his ears primed, searching for any more signs of life that might have arisen in response to the noise. But even after a few seconds, there was nothing. Justplete silence. Not even the noisy forest birds made a sound.


    They rxed slightly and examined the kill. N''s arrow had shot it straight through its head, and its ck legs sshed out messily around it. Its body ¨C without the legs ¨C was indeed slightly bigger than the wild pigs. It was a horrifying sight to behold. Beam nced at N to check on her.


    "What?" She asked quietly, noticing his gaze, anticipating that there was something behind her.


    "No, err¡­ It''s just¡­ you''re not scared of spiders?" Beam asked in a simrly quiet voice.


    "Why would I be?" N hissed back.


    "Just y''know, girls are scared of even house spiders. I woulda thought something like this would be a bit much," Beam said.


    "Are you making fun of me?" N growled?


    "No. Was just checking to make sure. Anyway, nice shot. We''ll leave the kills here until the job is done. Greeves estimated ten spiders. He said he wants the fangs and the venom sacs ¨C he doesn''t care about anything else."


    N nodded, retrieving her arrow and carefully wiping it off on the ground to ensure none of the spider''s blood would touch her. Even though she hated beingpared to other girls, Beam thought her reluctance to get dirty was still a pretty girly trait.


    They moved deeper into the woods, checking the area around where they''d found the other spider more thoroughly. Now that Beam was certain about the size of it, he had more of an idea of where to look in the trees. Too high up and the branches wouldn''t be able to support the creature''s weight, even with the webs strung between the trees.


    As such, he supposed that most would be nesting around halfway up the trees, just like this one had been.


    They stumbled upon two more, also asleep in their webs halfway up the tree. N killed another one immediately with her arrow, sending its body crashing to the floor.


    The other spider woke up from the noise and hissed. N fired another arrow to catch it before it moved, but the creature had already leapt from its previous perch, falling to the ground on a rope of web.


    It hissed again, baring its fangs dripping in a green venom.


    Beam felt his skin crawl. He''d asked if N felt anything seeing spiders of that size, but in truth, even he was feeling more than a little creeped out about them. He cautiously held his knife in reverse grip, wondering how he might close the gap between himself and the creature to deal the killing blow.


    The spider held its front two legs up like spears, threatening to jab him if he came too close. And then there were those fangs too.


    Beam took a step forward to gauge its reaction. One of its front legs immediately shot out. Beam no longer had the leg speed to dodge it, so he twisted slightly at the hip, letting the leg shoot past him, before he brought his knife down and severed it.


    The spider hissed again, more loudly this time, as it directed its full attention towards Beam ¨C a fatal mistake. Another one of N''s arrows flew, spearing through its head and ending its life. It copsed where it stood.


    Beam would have turned to congratte her, but he could already see more spiders running through the trees, having sensed themotion.


    With how dense the pine trees were and theck of light that managed to prate, Beam couldn''t count just how many there were at this distance, but he knew there were certainly more than the ten that Greeves had imed. And along with them, a veritable army of smaller spiders ¨C the size of tarants ¨C ran along the ground.


    Before they got too close, Beam rushed in and pulled the arrows from the corpses of the other two spiders that N had killed. He couldn''t find the missed arrow, but these two would do all the same. He handed them to N, positioning himself a few steps in front of her, to hide her from the spider''s vision and give her a better chance at a shot.


    With him blocking her from their sight, N dared to let another one fly before they got in too close. Beam felt the air rush by his ear, as the arrow sped past and sent a giant spider tumbling from the trees, crushing several of the smaller spiderlings as it fell.


    There was a chorus of hisses, and then the giant spiders were almost on them.


    "This sucks," Beam said, seeing the approaching army. "N ¨C if anye from the back, we''re running!" He shouted.


    "Got it!" N said.


    The spiders fanned out through the trees before they hit them, but their focus was still primarily on Beam, it seemed.


    Despite being a little stronger than the Goblins, they didn''t seem to be quite as intelligent. Beam held them up at the front with his knife.


    Using the momentum from its sprint through the trees, one of them leapt, looking to crash on top of him and crush him with its sheer weight. Two others came in from the sides.


    Beam slid his knife along the bottom of the first spider as it leapt overhead, covering himself in green blood. He dodged backwards, avoiding the corpse and preparing to confront the other two that were already so close.


    He tutted as he moved slower than he would have liked, his injured legining every time he asked something of it. But N was there to help. With Beam in front of her, obscuring the spider''s view, another arrow whistled past his shoulder, killing the beast on the left.

 Chapter 104: The Slayers Return - Part 5

    The one on the right Beam took care of himself. It hissed as it leapt at him, its fangs dripping with venom. But it wasn''t such a simple matter to get close to a creature with as much reach as it did, with its long hairy ck legs making themselves into menacing clubs.


    As Beam dared to step in close, a leg crept out to meet him. He severed it immediately. Even if his injured leg was holding him back, his hand speed still remained, and he trusted in it. With minimal movements, he span off that attack, using his good leg and he stabbed his knife in the underside of the spider, avoiding its fangs.


    There was no time to celebrate the kill, however, for there were many more of the hairy creatures racing through the trees. It was such a stampede that the forest shook from their weight and the trees swayed sickenly, threatening to snap.


    And now the wave of little spiderlings came running in too, with even more leaping ability than their parents. One leapt from the ground up as high as Beam''s face, threatening to sink its fangs into his skin.


    "Damn it," he cursed. These spiderlings were of unknown quality to him. He''d heard no mention of them from Greeves or his master. He could tell at a nce they weren''t as strong as their giant spider counterparts, but he didn''t know if that meant he could safely ignore their bites.


    With the sheer amount of them, it wasn''t possible to fight whilst avoiding getting bitten. With not enough information to go on, Beam called a retreat.


    "N! Fall back to the river!" Beam said.


    "Got it!" N shouted, sending another arrow flying past him. By the shrieking hiss that responded to the shot, Beam could tell that she''d found her mark again even without looking.


    The girl''s red hair swept out behind her as she raced down the path that they''d taken to get here. In a few short strides, Beam managed to catch up with her. A nce over his shoulder told him of the giant spiders'' speed ¨C they were slower than Goblins, for sure, but not by much.


    N and Beam made it to the river first and then slid down the bank.


    "We''ll use the water to avoid the spiderlings. Don''t get bitten, no matter what," Beam told her. It was a safe piece of advice. Even without knowing the general information on spiderlings and giant spiders, these creatures were clearly different, in that they lived together, whereas the rest of their species did not. It would have been na?ve to assume that''s where the only differencesy.


    They waded through the water of the river towards the middle ind. It was a stretch of five metres of shallow water that came up to their shin ¨C not that threatening at all, unless you were the size of a tarant.


    N was already notching another arrow in her bowstring as soon as they stood on it. Beam took a nce at her quiver. There were only five arrows left. "Save it," he told her. "Use it when they''re focused on me, so they don''t have time to dodge."


    N released the tension in her bowstring and nodded.


    The giant spiders came flooding through the forest after them a momentter, with a carpet of spiderlings underneath their feet, as though riding a wave. Three giant spiders made it to the top of the cliff first, ahead of the rest, and they hissed in anger at N and Beam''s cement in the river.


    The trees shook, and more arrived after it. Another two. Then another three. Eight in total.


    "There''s still that many left?" Beam cursed. They''d already killed a fair few. This was far more than the ten that Greeves had informed them of. That, plus the hundreds of little spiderlings, the difficulty had certainly increased.


    The river served its purpose though and as the spiderlings rushed to its shores, they leapt to cross. But even with their impressive jumping ability, not a single one of them made it more than halfway across. Theynded with a ssh in the water and were carried further downstream, struggling with their many legs.


    A giant spider thundered down the hill, as though disappointed with the smaller creature''s attempts. It paid no mind to them as it ran, crushing several underneath its massive legs.


    It sped out across the river with contempt. The shallow water was nothing to a creature of its size. It hissed, spitting poison from its fangs.


    Beam''s eyes widened at the new attack and he grabbed N to pull her clear away from it. They rolled together away from it and then Beam sprang, before it could fire another one off.


    He sliced through the legs it used to defend itself and cut a clean line down the front of its face.


    "Seven to go," Beam said, flicking the blood from his knife. He kicked the spider corpse towards a set of rocks downstream, after seeing the spiderlings immediately seize the opportunity to use it as an ind. A handful made it towards him, but he dodged them narrowly and crushed them all under foot.


    He couldn''t help but feel a little disappointed ¨C all the while, he''d been searching for something new, some new way he might improve and exceed his limits, but even with his injuries, his old ways were working just as well. With a sinking feeling, he realized that the spiders might have just been too weak.


    Even if they were pushing him and forcing him to act to the best of his abilities ¨C they were not beyond his abilities, even injured as he was.


    "These poison spit attacks are going to be trouble, but it seems like they''re slower when they''re trying to make it fly. Shoot them down if they try to attempt it," Beam said to N. She nodded.


    The other seven spiders skidded down the hill after their brethren, simrly crushing the smaller spiderlings underfoot if any made the mistake of getting too close. They lined up along the bank, hissing, waving their two front legs in the air threateningly and baring their fangs. To Beam, it looked like all of them nned to unleash a poison attack and he prepared himself to dodge.

 Chapter 105: The Slayers Return - Part 6

    "Just focus on shooting," he said quietly to N during the standoff. "I''ll make sure none of them hit you."


    Three puddles of poison shot out over the river. The other spiders were up to something too, but Beam didn''t have the skill necessary to take in all the threats at once. Not yet.


    He noted N''s flying arrow and heard the death hiss of a spider that followed, then he dove towards her and tackled her free of the poison''s path.


    Three separate puddles of green poisonnded with a st onto the mud and stone ind, hitting three different sections of it. Narrowly, they''d managed to dodge the attack.


    But now they saw what the other spiders had been up to. A web rope shot from the abdomen of one spider towards the central ind, securing it in ce, creating a bridge for the spiderlings. The smaller creatures eagerly jumped on and went rushing for the middle. It must have been nearly a hundred that got on it together.


    Beam waited a moment, seeing the web rope sway stically under the weight of so many tarant-sized spiders, and then he shed with his knife, severing the web bridge with ease and sending hundreds of the creatures tumbling into the river.


    Another handful of the front runners managed to leap far enough to reach them, but again he dodged them and again he crushed them underfoot.


    "They really aren''t particrly smart," he said, watching the spiderlings struggle to swim, only to stop moving a few momentster. Seeing it so confidently secure the rope bridge, he''d hesitated a moment, wondering if his knife would really have been able to cut through it ¨C but then he remembered he''d already tried such a thing in the forest.


    The webs were sticky, for sure, but a single swift cut didn''t allow that stickiness to properly take hold.


    The spiders were not creatures of great intelligence. Even though every one of their attacks had been foiled so far, they did not change their tactics, they merely went at everything even more aggressively than before, seeming to time everything together by some sort of collective hive mind that the creatures shouldn''t have had.


    There were six of the giant ones remaining and then a flood of spiderlings after that.


    Two giant spiders sped towards the river, their grotesque hairy legs filling their every movement with a creepy quality. They sshed through the shallow water towards Beam.


    Another two opened their fangs wide, allowing the poison to drip more freely until there was a sticky build-up of the green substance, and then they spat it, firing it into the air over a great distance.


    And then thest two shot the same sticky webs from their abdomens, allowing their spiderling brethren two separate bridges along which to form their attacks.


    N''s arrow instantly fired in response to the poison, killing another spider on the spot. Beam nced between her and the approaching bubbles of poison and she spared him a nod, before retreating off the ind and back onto the stepping stones.


    Beam breathed a sigh of relief, daring to smile, despite the approaching danger. "Well, that makes things easier," he said, ducking his head to avoid the poison, just as the first of the spiders came charging into them.


    It was a clumsy attempt at an attack. If Beam had his leg at full health and his speed, he could have punished it instantly. But with his body in the state that it was in, he was forced to dodge with a roll and recover his bnce, before attempting to confront it again, just in time for the second of the spiders to make it to the middle.


    "This sucks," he said in irritation. Without speed, it was far too hard to close the gap on these creatures. All he could do was stand still and y reactively, waiting for them to make a mistake.


    They lunged in at the same time, one attempting to bite his torso in two with its scissor-like fangs and the other jabbing at him with its heavy front legs.


    Another one of N''s arrows came flying past, puncturing the spider that had attempted to keep its range. Beam saw the many eyes of itsrade flicker as it observed the death of itspanion. He used that opportunity to jump, wincing from the pain as he cleared its fangs andnded on its back, running his knife down the full length of it.


    He rolled away as the body fell, just in time for the first wave of spiderlings to make it across the bridge.


    He quickly sliced the bridge nearest to him, but there were already half a hundred on his little ind, leaping to bite. In some way, because of the sheer number of them, they were more troublesome foes than the giant spiders.


    Beam too was forced to stage a retreat and he jumped across the stepping stones that N had, beforending in the shallow water of the river and wading the rest of the way there.


    There were only three giant spiders left now.


    The spiderlings were left stranded, hopping from stepping to stepping stone, but unable to breach the gap between them without wading through the same water that they had ¨C and the only oue for them there would be death. Some tried despite that and the river ran ck as they joined the rest of the bodies that ran downstream.


    "Mm¡­ This might be good, actually," Beam mused, seeing them gather on the middle ind. "If we take out the web bridges, they''ll be stranded."


    "But how do we do that?" N asked in a tense voice, as she held an arrow ready in her bow. As it was now, the two parties were locked in a standoff, with neither able to race to the other. Only the giant spiders could close that gap, if they chose to.


    And one did exactly that. It waded through the water and mbered onto the middle ind, crushing part of the mass of spiderlings that had begun to gather there, and then it allowed its fangs to drip with poison as it readied another shot. N''s arrow pierced it first though, and it slumped to the ground, drenching itself in its own poison.

 Chapter 106: The Slayers Return - Part 7

    "They definitely don''t seem too bright," Beam mused. There were only two left now, but unless they made the same mistake as their brethren, he couldn''t see a way to reach them, not without wading through the sea of giant spiders that had begun to gather on their crossing point.


    They showed no signs of moving. Instead, they shot more webs from their abdomens and renewed the web bridges for the spiderlings towards that middle ind, securing it as an objective, whether that was their intention or not.


    "Should I take them out with my arrows?" N asked.


    It was a gamble at this distance. Unless they were distracted in some way, they''d have plenty of time to see the projectileing and dodge. It seemed to Beam to be poor strategy to use up thest of their ammunition on something with such a small chance of seeding.


    "Nah¡­ Let me try and create a better shot for you," Beam said, noting the fallen tree that he''d seen earlier. It only went halfway across the river, but it looked sturdy enough, far sturdier than the slippy log he had been forced to use against the Goblins.


    He knew if he wanted to make something happen, now was his only chance, before the spiders noticed that crossing too and started sending their webs towards it.


    He ran at the log, weaving his way through some of its still green branches, and he jumped into the river from the end, expecting it to be just as shallow as it had been once he leapt off the middle ind.


    But the water here was deeper and before he knew it, he was in up to his chest, forced to swim the rest of the way across. The spider''s many eyes flickered towards him, noting his struggle with the current. They hissed and ran his way before he could make it to the bank.


    When he put his arm on the rocky ledge in an attempt to heft himself up, the first of them lunged. Its fangs narrowly missed his head as he dodged to the side, diving under the water, using his meagre swimming skills to attempt to find a better spot tond.


    No arrow flew his way yet. The opportunity hadn''t been good enough. He silentlymended N for her patience, hoping that it was not just ack of regard for his life.


    When he surfaced, he was slightly further up stream, as he grasped the banks of the river to haul himself against the current. It was a little shallower here, nearer to the middle ind, and his feet could find purchase on the bottom, enough to give his movement a little more diversity.


    The second of the spiders came towards him now from the right, as the other came charging from the left, barring his way onto thend seeminglypletely, and the little spiderlings were there too, covering up anynd that he attempted to put his hand on, threatening a bite.


    Some even jumped in at him, seemingly without regard for their own life, as they risked it all to merelynd a single bite.


    It was odd behaviour. Uncharacteristic for a species that was usually so individualistic ¨C to give everything for the good of the colony.


    Beam tutted in annoyance, beginning to regret his n, as he dove under water again, attempting to go deeper so that they couldn''t track him. He feigned going upstream, but then, without surfacing, he went downstream instead, tracking back to where he''d attempted to get out before.


    When he surfaced this time, with a hand on the ledge, there were not any fangs there to greet them. The spiders weren''t fooled entirely, however ¨C their excellent eyesight had noted that something was up, as they stood frozen in ce, rather than being fooled upstream as he''d intended.


    They hissed when they saw his hand on the rock and came sprinting towards him, both spiders at once, their fangs dripping with venom. But Beam was already halfway through hauling himself up onto the bank by now and he rolled to escape their attack, somehow making his way to his feet clutching his knife, though he was breathing heavily now.


    The spiders'' backs were to the river as they focused everything on him and a swarm of spiderlings came pouring his way to obstruct his footing. But Beam had already achieved his aim. With such perfect conditions, N would never miss. The arrow flew, taking out the spider on the left.


    And just as the spider on the right turned in rm, Beam seized the opportunity to end its life, punching his knife deep through one of its eyes.


    It took hours to clean up after that. Beam managed to sever the bridges before too many spiderlings escaped, effectively trapping several hundred of them in the centre of the river. But the other few hundred that remained were a problem that was hard to deal with safely.


    The strategy that they settled on was mainly just abusing the creature''sck of intelligence and continually provoking them into jumping into the river themselves. They''dy out sticks upon the fallen tree that Beam had used to cross the river on, and they''d set them in range for the spiderlings to jump. Then, when enough had gathered, they''d simply kick the stick and let them drown.


    It was grim work and it felt almost cruel, like stepping on ants, but it needed to be done and slowly but surely, they exterminated thest of them.


    Then finally, they went back into the forest from where the giant spiders hade running. There they found the creatures'' nest ¨C a web fortress set high in the trees. Two injured giant spiders had been left behind to guard it, but they were swiftly dealt with, along with the many thousands of eggs that had beenid there.


    "It almost feels like we should burn it," Beam said, wrinkling his nose as he crushed thest of the eggs.


    "I know what you mean¡­ If even a few of them survive, they''ll start another colony like this and who knows what trouble they''ll cause if they''re left alone again," N said. "To think that such a threat existed so close to the vige. Just like the Hobgoblin ¨C it''s strange, isn''t it? The monsters seem like they''re getting more powerful."

 Chapter 107: The Slayers Return - Part 8

    "It does seem like something''s going on," Beam agreed, "Master has said as much. But at least this is a mutation that we could handle ourselves ¨C they weren''t too much stronger. There were just loads of them."


    "Mhm, true," N agreed. "Hey, can I ask you something?"


    Beam turned to look at her when he heard the change of tone in her voice. She turned her head away, as though embarrassed to ask him the question. "Hm? What is it?"


    "Well uhm¡­ I just wonder¡­ Y''know, since it wasn''t really what we expected, and it was so dangerous and the like, and because there were so many of them¡­ Weren''t you scared?" N asked, still looking away.


    In response, Beam just looked at his hand and then he showed it to N. "You''re quivering..?" She said in surprise.


    "Yeah, I guess so¡­ Even though they''ve been dealt with, it''s hard to get the fear out of your system. I''ll probably struggle to sleep again tonight," Beam said.


    N breathed something that seemed like a sigh of relief. "I see¡­ I thought you''d make fun of me for being afraid. I don''t really want to die yet, after all. And I don''t want to see people get hurt either. It''s scary."


    "It is," Beam agreed. "It''ll probably always be scary. I''m scared every time I have to fight with the monsters. I was scared when I fought those Goblins with you. Do you remember when I shouted, calling them weak? I had to, to block out my own sense of fear."


    "But then you went and you fought the Hobgoblin straight after?" N said, her eyes wide in surprise. "¡­Why? It seems like you could have run. But I don''t know, watching you fight, I thought that maybe¡­ maybe you enjoyed it."


    Beam tilted his head at the question, as he felt his heart throb. They were words that pointed out an inconsistency in his soul, and for a moment, it rmed him. The fear returned tenfold. The fear of failing. The fear of injury. The fear of death.


    They were always there, haunting him¡­ But then he realized something ¨C above all that, there was an even greater fear. "Hah¡­ I guess I''m just scared of something else, more than I am of dying."


    "Scared of something else?" N repeated. "Like what? What could be scarier than dying, or seeing the people you love get hurt?"


    "Am I included in that?" Beam asked, recalling that she''d continually warned him against getting hurt.


    He''d expected the question to at least make her blush, but she merely narrowed her eyes in annoyance, her expression suddenly stoney. "Stupid. I thought we were having a serious discussion.


    I just don''t like seeing people get hurt in general ¨C I realized that seeing you get hurt, especially because of me¡­ And I suppose, on the list of people I wouldn''t want to get hurt, you''re higher than a stranger."


    "Just higher than a stranger?" Beam raised an eyebrow at the considerably low status, but smiled anyway. But that smile soon faded as he thought back to her initial question. He knew that something was there, something that he hinged his entire existence on, but he struggled to put it into words. "What I fear¡­ Mm¡­ I fear not achieving something great," he said.


    "I feel like my life would be wasted without it. Like everything was for nothing."


    "Something great?" N repeated, her eyes shone at the words, as though she resonated with them. "Like what?"


    "I didn''t know until very recently, until I met my master. I just knew it had to be something¡­ But now I''m thinking that I''m going to y the Pandora Goblin. So even though I''m afraid of fighting these monsters here, even though my leg feels like it''s on fire every day¡­ I feel like I need to make progress, because when the progresses, it feels like life is somehow worth living."


    There was a moment''s silence and immediately Beam began to feel embarrassed. He knew he hadn''t put his feelings very well. He guessed that his feelings were also pretty embarrassing in themselves. Riddled with weakness, yet still clinging to absurd hope.


    "Ah, forget I said anything," Beam said quickly, growing red. "I didn''t say it right."


    "Nah, I think I understand," N said quietly. "I mean, talk of ying the Pandora Goblin¡­ That''s¡­ Well, maybe¡­ I don''t really understand how strong it is, but to me you''re pretty strong already and if you''re going to get stronger¡­ Maybe you really could. I sort of had a simrly stupid idea, but y''know, not quite Pandora Goblin level stupid."


    "You did?" Beam asked, looking up in surprise.


    N gave a big nod. "Well, already me wanting to be a hunter is pretty dumb, right? Even you thought so ¨C girls don''t hunt. We don''t have the power to draw the strongest bowstrings and we don''t have the strength to carry them back, besides women are just weaker than men and all that¡­ But despite that, I want to hunt. I don''t just want to stop there though!


    I want to have my own store, a huge business in the city. And I want to get enough money so that mother doesn''t have to struggle anymore¡­ and so Stephanie and David can grow up big and strong."


    "Hah¡­" Beam felt warm as his mouth fell into a big smile. "You''re a really nice person, huh?"


    It was N''s turn to go red. "Heh!? Where''d you get that from what I said? It''s a stupid, selfish dream, isn''t it? I mean, if I was kind, I''d be weaving with mother already ¨C but I don''t want to. And so I guess I''m giving her a hard time¡­ But I don''t want to give up."


    "You definitely shouldn''t, not with your skills," Beam said. "I don''t really know anything about hunting, though. Not that I really know anything about swordsmanship or the like either."


    "You think..? But it seems like there isn''t really as much money in hunting as there is in ying monsters¡­ But ying monsters is pretty scary," N said. "I don''t really know what to do at the moment¡­ I feel like I''m just wandering aimlessly, trying to get something. That''s why, watching you, I almost feel a little jealous. And then I get sad."

 Chapter 108: The Slayers Return - Part 9

    Beam nodded. It was a feeling he''d felt for years. A feeling that might even have consumed him had he not met Dominus. "I think you''ll find it."


    "I hope so."


    ¡­


    ¡­


    That evening, after parting with N, he was back in front of Greeves'' house once more, with two bags full of fangs and ink sacs. Their work had taken them hours and by now it was once more dark outside.


    But that wasn''t the only thing that Beam had brought with him ¨C he''d brought something that caught his eye as he scouted the eastern part of the ins on the way back.


    Judas answered the door once more and helped him into Greeves'' office with his bags.


    Greeves wrinkled his nose at the sight of the sacks stained green all over his floor. "That''s a fucking mess, Judas. What are you stupid? Don''t go messing up the rug, you oaf."


    "Sorry, boss," Judas said, moving to put them in the next room. But Greeves held up a hand.


    "I didn''t say to put them next door. I just said don''t mess up the rug. How am I going to inspect the merchandise if I can''t see them? Think a little, eh?" Greeves dug into him hard.


    Beam almost winced. He supposed Judas didn''t have it quite so easy either. Especially not when Greeves was feeling stressed out by whatever nefarious ns he''d set in ce that were falling through.


    "Right, boy, what have we got here?" Greeves said, nodding at the sacks.


    "Spider fangs and poison sacs. A lot of them. I want two silvers," Beam said, expecting a harsh rebuke, but Greeves said nothing. He merely nced inside one of the bags, picking up one of the fleshy poison sacs, apparently not minding the blood that coated his hands.


    "Good quality stuff this¡­ And a lot more than 10 of them," he said. He reached into his coin pouch and slid 2 silver coins and 5 coppers across the table towards Beam. "That it?"


    Beam was suspicious about the ease with which the gold-fingered merchant had parted with his money, but he epted it anyway and then reached inside his coat, cing down the charred remains of what seemed to be a g, or at least that''s what Beam guessed it to be.


    Greeves grunted, epting the piece of cloth.


    "I found that scouting to the east. The vige perimeter was clear everywhere except from there. Our g is blue, isn''t it? I thought it was weird seeing a ck one right next to the vige," Beam said.


    "Mm¡­ Yeah, that''s a Yarmdon g," Greeves said, tossing the remains over his shoulder. "So your scouting is done is it? Here''s 5 more coppers."


    "You''re not worried about seeing a Yarmdon g so close to the vige?" Beam asked, but he took the coins anyway.


    Yarmdon was a country north of the ck Mountains, where their vige was situated. In the spring and summer, the Yarmdon shipsmonly sailed down the Salt Sea, raiding coastal viges. None had ever been sighted this far to the east, at least not for a hundred years.


    "Eh, not my problem. In all likelihood, it''s nothing. Some daft merchant will have been carrying it as a souvenir. That or it blew over the mountains. There''s no way any of those damn raiders will have walked this far, not from the Salt Sea. And those mountains are practically impassable as well ¨C they won''t havee through there.


    Besides, it''s autumn. Even those greasy bearded bastards aren''t stupid enough to make such a journey so close to winter," Greeves said.


    Despite his dismal, his arguments were convincing. In all likelihood, it would have been nothing. In fact, all logic pointed to the fact that it should have been nothing, yet Beam still felt uneasy despite that.


    "So¡­ You only have the corpse soldier ying quest and another party of Goblins to clear out, and then you''ll have done all that Ferdinand asked of us," Greeves said, speaking lightly, shing Beam a false smile. That smile made him suspicious.


    He sensed from the way that the merchant was conducting himself ¨C so amiably, without strongly resisting any of his requests ¨C that he was likely going to be asking something troublesome of him. That suspicion quickly proved to be well founded.


    "And well, I hate to ask this of you, since we had a deal and all, but I''m going to have to get you to push your Hobgoblin hunting forward," Greeves said. "Such is the position I''m in at the moment."


    "How far forward?" Beam asked with a frown.


    "The day after tomorrow," Greeves said. "Sorryd, but anyter than that, and it''ll be useless to me, for I''ll have lost my profits regardless." He then turned to look at Judas, giving him a nod. The big man seemed to understand something from that nod, for he left the room,ing back a few momentster with a long parcel wrapped in cloth.


    "Is that the sword, then?" Beam asked as it was set down in front of him.


    "It is. A fine de, it is. A little too fine. But with supply being limited, can''t be too choosy. You just make sure you take care of the damn thing," Greeves said, untying the string around the sword and pulling the cloth off it.


    Beam''s eyes lit up as he looked upon the sword. It was simple, for sure, but solid. Whereas a finer sword might have decorated the hilt of the weapon and given it a fancy pommel, this sword was nothing but dark steel and a leather wrap. He gently drew it from its leather sheath, catching his reflection in the well polished de.


    The sword entranced him. He stood up despite himself, sliding both his hands on the grip and testing its weight. Indeed, being a bastard sword, it was a little shorter than the des that other warriors wielded, more simr to his master''s sword in length, but it was still very much a fearsome thing.

 Chapter 109: The Slayers Return - Part 10

    It felt lighter in his hands than he expected, and as he twirled it around in his wrist, he was struck by a feeling of rightness. More than a knife in his hand, a de like this seemed to stick. It seemed to flow with all the naturalness of a river, as though it was born to sit in his palm.


    "I take that to mean you''re satisfied with it?" Greeves said, watching the boy toy with it,pletely enamoured. He was half d to see him like that, for he''d expected him to offer a significant amount of resistance towards the moved-up Hobgoblin date. "The day after tomorrow then, you''re going to bring me victory, aye?"


    Beam finally spared the merchant a nce. "I''m not exactly in good shape, but I do not intend to lose. Make no mistake though, merchant. The victory won''t be for you."


    Greeves waved his hand dismissively. "Dedicate it to whoever you want, I care not. As long as I can reap its rewards, it''s still very much my victory. So, upon your ying of the beast, you can merely tell me where the corpse is, and I will have Judas take care of the rest. But, y''know, if you fail this, know that the matter won''t end with only your death."


    Beam''s eyes narrowed at the threat. "And what can you do to me that will be worse than death?"


    "Well¡­ I wonder," Greeves said, shing a malicious smile as he toyed with the fruit knife on his desk. "Since doing my little tasks for me, it would seem you''ve been getting close to the vigers, mm? Some more so than others¡­ One of them, ah, yes. Pretty little thing. Very pretty ¨C I can see why she caught your interest, though I do wonder why you caught hers..?


    But, either way, I will have my money regardless. Whether it be by this Hobgoblin corpse, or whether I get that girl sold."


    Beam''s eyes red dangerously, they widened to the point of madness, the anger more than evident. The temperature in the room felt as though it dropped. With the sword in his hand, he could have cut down the merchant there and then. He felt the presense of Ingolsol closer to him than he ever had. Dark fingers wed at his heart and bid him to act.


    Just barely, he resisted, though he had to calm himself with a vow that the merchant would pay. He inhaled deeply, restraining himself just for a moment. "¡­I won''t forget that merchant."


    Greeves paled unable to prevent the trembling that made its way to his fingers. But he did not relent. He forced a smile. "I imagine not ¨C but you will do nothing about it. You''re shackled by your morals. Even if you achieve victory over this Hobgoblin and you establish yourself as a threat against me ¨C you will not act upon it, unless I act upon you first.


    Such is what this merchant''s eyes see."


    "I will not fail. That threat you made ¨C that was a mistake. It will haunt you," Beam said through gritted teeth, before shooting Judas a dark look and swiftly marching towards the door.


    "The day after tomorrow, boy! Don''t forget!" Greeves called after him.


    Beam lunged in at Dominus with a crushing blow, swinging his sword from above his head, down onto the old warrior''s raised sword, trying to break through by strength alone. Dominus parried it with ease. With the lightest touch, he knocked it off course, forcing Beam to deal with his own momentum and sending him off bnce.


    And then came the kick to the stomach that sent Beam crashing down to the floor.


    "Slow, far too slow. And weak too. The technique iscking as well," Dominus said with a sigh. "And yet you epted the merchant''s conditions and you march to your death. In the beginning, letting the merchant know of your true capabilities ¨C that was a folly, for being the twisted man he is, he quickly let that work against you, just as much as you let it work against yourself."


    "I didn''t have a choice," Beam grunted, as he got back to his feet, fighting to get his air back into his lungs after the kick had winded him.


    "Wrong. There''s always a choice. You told him that you could y a Hobgoblin because you were injured, and you wanted to establish your worth to him so that he would not rob you at your weakest. There were, however, any number of ways in which you could have done that, yet because of your anger at your own defeat, you chose the Hobgoblin.


    Because you wanted more reasons for which to attain victory over it."


    "If I win, there isn''t a problem," Beam said, holding his sword at the ready once more.


    "As you are now, you will not win," Dominus said with a sigh. Beam ran forward again, this time attempting a thrust with his sword. Dominus used his palm this time to knock the iing de off course, but Beam had expected that. He twisted, then brought his sword down in an overhand sh, followed by another, then another, then another.


    But no matter how many times he swung, his sword did not find its target, as Dominus easily avoided it.


    "You will not beat it," Dominus said again, "you are still weak. You are forcing progress where none yet exists. You will fail, and you will die."


    "Then why did you let me change my test in the first ce?" Beam asked in irritation, as he fought to regain his breath.


    "Because in a few days, you might have been capable of it. Being such a fledgling as you are, a few days is a world of difference, in terms of what can be achieved in progress. And yet your wound has weakened you," Dominus said.


    "But I came so close to victory before," Beam protested. "Just the slightest bit more and I would have got it."


    "And now you are weaker and you are slower," Dominus said. "In what area do you suppose you''ve improved, such that you can now seed where in the past you have failed?"


    "Strategy..?" Beam said weakly, though he still had no idea how to apply strategy.

 Chapter 110: The Making of a Monster - Part 1

    "From the doubt in your voice, you know as well as I do that despite your improvements in our Battle games, your strategy will not save you in this fight. You do not yet know how to apply the skill that you have learned on the board to real-life battles. Nor is it something that I can properly teach you.


    Your Battle training serves as nothing more than the building of potential ¨C the gathering of fuel for a grand fire that may be ignitedter in your life," Dominus said.


    "Then what do I even do?" Beam shouted, unable to help himself. "I''ve got nothing then, do I?"


    "Well¡­ I suppose you''ve got a new sword," Dominus said weakly. "That will at least count for something. It seems you''re better suited for a sword than you were a knife, so improving your technique with it over the course of today will at least amount to something¡­ but..."


    That was where the crux of the mattery. Tomorrow, he would have to fight the Hobgoblin. Last night, after meeting with Greeves, he had once more met up with N, giving her a full silver coin as a reward for their hunting quest. She had shouted in joy upon receiving it, her eyes filled with gratitude as she thanked him over and over.


    And Beam had stood there meekly, forcing a smile, knowing that if she knew of his intention to y the Hobgoblin, he''d snatch that joy away from her, and force her into worry.


    Then, he''d returned home and told his master of the events. Whilst calm now, he had not been upon their receipt. He''d even shouted, which was rare for him. Calling Beam a fool for narrowing his own odds of victory more and more, for forcing himself into this very situation in the first ce.


    But such a thing, even though unpleasant at the time, had filled Beam with warmth. It had been many long cold years since he had people around him that cared whether he lived or whether he died.


    "I don''t want to lose again¡­" Beam admitted.


    "I mean, obviously. Few people long for death," Dominus said.


    But that wasn''t what Beam had meant when he said that. It was his greed in him, wanting more. Despite the warmth that now surrounded him, despite the care of his master, of N and her family. He still wanted more. He couldn''t be satisfied with his own mediocrepetence.


    And so, even though he was in the position he was, even though he had to fight a Hobgoblin tomorrow when he was nowhere near ready, he didn''t want to change that task, he didn''t want more time.


    For him, it was now or never. The only thing he wanted was victory. That burning desire to conquer. He couldn''t stand his own weakness for even a moment longer.


    "I won''t lose," Beam murmured to himself, just loud enough for Dominus to hear.


    The old knight sighed. "You''re a promising kid, y''know. I genuinely do think you''ve got potential. You''ve impressed me to no end over this past month. But this greed of yours, it''s going to get you killed. I can not defend you tomorrow.


    I will not step in to save your life. Thesest few hours of yours, the weight of your life weighs on every single one of them."


    Beam didn''t flinch when he heard Dominus would not step in to save his life should things go wrong ¨C he was going to ask him not to anyway. By his eyes, it was victory, or it was death. He simply could not stomach that third failure. That was his weakness.


    "That''s fine," Beam said. "I want this opportunity to go all the way."


    Dominus shook his head. "Well, I''ll do what I can for you, boy. But I don''t sense the smell of any progress from you yet ¨C I don''t know how you can seize victory without improving."


    "I''ll find a way," Beam said, readying his sword again. But Dominus held up a hand to stop him.


    "We can continue sparring after dinner. Go and test your strength and speed before then, so at least we know what we''re working with," Dominus said.


    Beam nodded in agreement, unable to help himself from ncing at his leg.


    "It''s still bothering you?" Dominus asked.


    "Less than it was, but it''s still there," Beam said.


    "Mm¡­ You''re lucky to be walking on it so soon. To think you''d really be trying to fight a Hobgoblin on it¡­ Hah. Kids are exhausting. Go on then, get those damn stones lifted. I''ll cook you up something to eat," Dominus said.


    Beam nodded, rolling out the first of the stones and slowly warming himself up. When he thought back to just a week ago, when he could hardly lift the first stone due to his injury, he had to be just a little bit thankful that he''d recovered so fast ¨C now there was only the tiniest twinge of pain as he hefted the small stone.


    And then he went onto the second one. Simrly, this wasn''t too bad for him either now. The pain was there, but it was tolerable. He managed ten liftsfortably enough.


    Then the third. He lifted it with some amount of apprehension, knowing that the pain was only liable to get worse. And indeed, he was right. When he demanded that much more strength from it, the muscle groaned inint as though a creature was biting into it. But he lifted the stone anyway, morefortably than he had in some time.


    Not willing to leave it there, whilst there was still something in the tank, he lifted it again and again and again, more limited by his pain tolerance than he was by his strength. At his tenth lift, Dominus signalled for him to stop.


    "Leave it there for now," he said, "there''s no point giving your all on it yet, not when you''ve got bigger fish to catch¡­. Mm. Ten lifts though, that''s better than I expected it would be. Your strength ising back. Perhaps there''s a slight bit more hope than I''d thought. Go and do some sprints now, see how well you can move."


    Beam did as he was told, walking a little distance away so that he was on the worn-down trail, but still within view of Dominus'' camp. He nced, seeing that the old warrior was busy stirring their pot of food. "Go on," Dominus said, seeing him looking.

 Chapter 111: The Making of a Monster - Part 2

    And Beam began. He started lightly at first, not daring to ask too much of his leg, before speeding up some more, running back and forth along the track, turning around at each end before he disappeared from Dominus'' view.


    As he had thought it would, the sprinting inflicted more pain on him than the stone lifting had, and his martial training had. As he ran, the unbnce of his legs was painfully obvious and he could feel that he was far slower than he normally might be. A frustrating realization, for sure.


    "That''ll do," Dominus said, and Beam returned to the camp breathlessly, having worked up a sweat.


    "It seems there''s more danger to be had in yourck of speed now," Dominus said as Beam sat down. "That was your weapon against the Hobgoblin in your past encounter. The only attribute that you really surpassed it in, and now it''s been taken from you. That''s troublesome indeed."


    "I''ll have to think of a different approach," Beam said.


    "Then you had better think quickly, boy, there isn''t long at all," Dominus said with a sigh, finding it hard to believe in Beam''s impossible optimism. "Mm. While we eat, I suppose we might as well give Battle a go, to see where you''re at in that."


    Beam nodded halfheartedly, not entirely enthusiastic about improving it, now that his master had told him it was unlikely to help him in the battle with the Hobgoblin. But he set the pieces up regardless, settling on his army of 12 spearmen and 4 cavalry units ¨C he''d forsaken archers entirely as ofte, finding it easier to secure the advantage without them.


    Dominus, on the other hand, had 6 archers in his frontline, 4 cavalry units behind them and then 6 spear units beside both of those ¨C his usual bncedbination.


    Beam began subtly, sending a lone spear unit along the right-hand side of the board, away from the Dominus'' bows. That was, until, Dominus shifted two of those bow units to be more in line with it, all but assuring that they''d manage to take it out.


    And then Beam sent his spear unit further to the right side of the board, sending two more spear units behind it to back it up, and then a single cavalry unit behind that.


    Dominus observed his manoeuvrings with a nk expression as he spooned his meal into his mouth. He moved his bow units forward a tile, before sending three more bow units to their side of the board after them and then getting two spear units to protect their nk.


    As soon as they moved, Beam sent the rest of his spear units charging forward all at once, aiming entirely for the left side of Dominus'' army, with his leftover three cavalry units trailing just behind, ready to respond.


    Dominus eyed the bold move with a raised eyebrow, and paused to finish his mouthful of food. In the end, he decided to merely continue lining up his bow units on the right, so that they were all within firing range of Beam''s approaching pieces. He rolled the dice for them, allowing them to shoot, securing a lucky roll and killing all three of the spear units that had beening his way.


    Beam continued to charge adamantly forward on the left. Dominus shifted his pieces slightly to cover his nk and give room for his cavalry units to escape and run alongside the approaching advance.


    At the same time, Beam kept his remaining horseman on the right active. Whilst the bowmen were reloading, he crept tentatively forward with his piece, just as Dominus lined up his two spear units in front of the archers to protect them. But at that, Beam merely brought his cavalry unit back a pace ¨C it allowed the archers the time they needed to reload, but he did it anyway.


    On the left, the bulk of Beam''s army crashed into Dominus'' left nk. The dice were rolled ruthlessly, and luck was against him. He lost his first spear piece for nothing, but then three more crashed in, the dice were rolled and he secured victory twice, punching two holes in Dominus'' frontline, and there were still yet more spear units rushing in behind them to secure the gaps.


    Dominus sent all four of his cavalry pieces forward, running them alongside the massive charging army, looking for nks, any spots that they might charge into.


    They crept close, just about to make contact in a single turn, but that was when Beam pulled a single spear unit out of the charge, immediately annihting the closest cavalry piece, only for it to get crushed itself as the other three surrounded it.


    But now Beam''s three cavalry pieces made it to Dominus'' cavalry. Three cavalry units against three cavalry units, all while Beam''s army rushed through, destroying Dominus'' left nk piece by piece.


    On the right, Dominus'' 6 bow units turned to point their weapons towards the approaching attackers, ready to unleash a vicious volley. But Beam''s own cavalry unit was still there, making things awkward.


    Using its superior mobility, it drew the two defending spear units in, before dashing around them, towards the exposed backs of the archers. It managed to dive in, hit the archers in the back, killing two of them, before it ran out of moves.


    And then a volley was unleashed, crashing mercilessly down onto Beam''s attackers, ridding him of three spear units. The next turn, Beam''s isted cavalry unit was surrounded and crushed by the defending spearmen, but it had served its purpose.


    The three cavalry units on either side faced off against each other. Dice were rolled. All three of Dominus'' pieces were killed, whilst a single unit of Beam''s survived. Beam sent it to join the attack.


    Now that Beam had destroyed Dominus'' left nk, he shifted his army, attempting to cover his own nks as it turned. But his inexperience was revealed, and one of Dominus'' spear units managed to sneak in unmolested, killing two units before it too was ultimately snuffed out.

 Chapter 112: The Making of a Monster - Part 3

    Another volley came in from Dominus'' archers, destroying yet more of Beam''s pieces. But by now, his attack had finished turning, and with precious few spear units left on Dominus'' side, Beam''s army looked mighty imposing indeed. He sent them rushing forward, with his remaining cavalry unit running alongside.


    Dominus rushed hisst spear units in front of his archers, attempting to buy time so that they might fire another volley off. But as the two armies met, Beam''s cavalry unit crept around the defenders and attacked the archers in the back, killing another two, whilst the remaining two managed to get off another volley.


    But with that manoeuvre, the battle was over. With both their front lines caught up in battle, unable to turn lest they reveal their backs to the enemy, it was Beam''s single well-ced cavalry unit that made all the difference.


    With no pieces free to stop it, it went on a rampage, finishing off the remaining archers, then attacking the line of Dominus'' spearmen from the back, punching a hole through them.


    Dominus looked at the board in a daze. "¡­Now isn''t that something?" He said quietly, staring at his defeated army, as they stood surrounded by Beam''s pieces. "To think that today of all days would be you''d manage to best me."


    Beam was simrly shocked. He hadn''t gone into the game with any particrly new kind of vigour. In fact, it had been the opposite ¨C he''d gone in with a casualness, knowing that the oue of the board would do nothing to help him when he was confronted with the real problem tomorrow. And yet, by somew that he didn''t understand, the conditions had been met and victory had been achieved.


    "¡­Did I win?" He asked, hardly able to believe it.


    Dominus nodded slowly, before smiling and extending a hand out to the boy. Beam stared at it dumbly, before taking it and shaking it. "Well done, boy. You''ve passed the strategy test."


    As he shook his hand, Dominus looked carefully into the boy''s eyes, searching for signs of change, searching for reassurance. He knew what the boy needed to do ¨C that he needed to integrate the light and dark within him, but had the boy made any progress towards understanding that himself? He couldn''t tell. He puzzled over how to assist him without stealing the importance of the process from him.


    "¡­I have?"


    "Indeed. The conditions were that you defeat me, were they not? Despite all the trouble it gave you, you''ve managed to do that, and before the deadline, too. You finished this particr test five days early, congrattions. Now there are only four tests remaining, or five, I suppose, depending on how you count them," Dominus said.


    Beam was still sat there in a daze. "I can''t believe it¡­ In strategy of all things? But I was so bad at it before getting injured ¨C I hadn''t improved at all."


    Dominus just shrugged and smiled. "I''ve said this many times before ¨C but such are the whims of the Goddess of progress. Attempt to understand her as we might, most men will fall short."


    "Hah¡­ This is something else," Beam said, shaking his head, feeling the warm thrill of victory. "If only there was some way I could use this¡­"


    "Well, I''m sure there are ways to use it. But, inevitably, since you do not have men of your own tomand, there is no one who can y the Hobgoblin but you, meaning ites down to your own strength more than anything else.


    Of course, you could be cunning as you were when you first fought the Goblins, and lure it into a disadvantageous position, but something tells me that will not be enough for you," Dominus said.


    Beam shook his head in agreement. "No, it wouldn''t be. I want to show that I''m strong enough to beat it without that."


    "Well, as things stand now, you almost certainly are not strong enough to beat it without some amount of cunning, but, I view this passing of your strategy test as a good omen nheless.


    Often ¨C as I''m sure you''ll find ¨C when we reach a teau in one thing, be it swordsmanship or anything else, that teau can be breached by extending our efforts outwards, and achievingpetence in the areas around it, so we can return to our initial pursuit with a wider base, and thus build it even higher," Dominus said.


    "That makes sense," Beam said with a smile, sensing the hope that Dominus hoped to convey to him.


    "Now ¨C shall we get back to training?" Dominus said, getting to his feet and drawing his sword once more. Beam nodded eagerly.


    They trained for many hours from then, for there was much to learn. Before Greeves had given him a de, he had practised his swordsmanship with a stick. And whilst they were the same in shape, nearly everything else about them was different.


    The weight and bnce were one thing, but merely the knowledge that the weapon you were holding was sharp enough to kill, that inspired a different rtionship with the weapon and a different way of moving.


    "Weak, far too weak," Dominus had told him relentlessly all afternoon, until well past when it had gotten dark. They continued to train by the light of the fire when the light of the sun could no longer be seen.


    "You need more than that," Dominus had told him more than once, "you''ve been swinging a sword all day, and you''ve been swinging a weapon for weeks now. Beyond the moves I''ve taught you, piece all that information together and draw something from it ¨C something unique, something personal, something that grants you strength."


    But even with that advice, Beam had failed to find what Dominus meant. His moves did indeed grow sharper. His shing attacks wasted less energy, but ording to Dominus, there was more to swordsmanship than that, and he said as much to the boy, as he finally dered that they should rest for the day, having done all that they could.


    "You''ve improved, no doubt. In the space of a day, you have done remarkably well, yet it''s still far from enough. The Hobgoblin is the first level of opposition that separates you from ordinary men ¨C it makes sense that you would not be able to take it down by ordinary means, with ordinary ideas and with ordinary strength. In some domain, you need to surpass it," Dominus said.

 Chapter 113: The Making of a Monster - Part 4

    "How, though?" Beam asked desperately. "Before it was my speed. Now I have strategy at the top, or at least in terms of Battle, but I have no means of applying it."


    "There are dimensions beyond that, boy. That''s your only hope. We mortals, we toy with strength, with speed, with technique. But there exists power beyond these boundaries. Power that lies in different realms. Like mana ¨C that is one realm.


    But it''s moreplicated than that, it''s a hard idea to put into words, and one that you likely do not wish to be burdened with so close to your deadline," Dominus said, noting that Beam had a faraway look in his eyes.


    "No. I do. Please tell me," Beam said firmly.


    Dominus sucked in a breath as he searched for the words. "Mm¡­ How do I exin it? Let''s see¡­ As a child learns to talk, they learn words, do they not? Word by word, they build up, and then, as if by magic, they''re capable of speaking in full sentences. Why? It is not simply that they have just memorized thousands of words ¨C although the result does appear like that.


    These words, they each contain meaning. As more words are added, they form connections¡­ Ah, what am I even getting at here?" Dominus said, as he searched for the idea beyond the example.


    "It''s like, you can practise thousands of moves, you can practise thousands of words, but without connection between them all, there''s no strength, there''s no utility. The path topetence and understanding is through building this web of connections, through initiating a perspective that allows you to multiply the effort of each¡­ So if you wish to evolve, you must develop your essence.


    You must develop your own sort of true understanding ¨C but not understanding as in ''I know what this means'' but, instead, an arrogant sort of understanding, one that offers you a route to the highest peaks," Dominus said.


    "I don''t really get it," Beam admitted, though he could sense that there was power in the words.


    "No, I imagine not. It is usually something people build up themselves, naturally, after years of absorbing information, they develop an essence of the thing. Hah, I can hardly put it into words myself¡­ But somehow, boy, you need to reach a hand through reality and you need to grasp at power that eyes cannot see," Dominus said.


    "Like training to sense mana?" Beam asked.


    But Dominus shook his head. "No, it''s a different sort. Mana is an energy that exists in this world of ours. What I mean is beyond that. What lies in the abyss? That which defies allws and orders of the known world, you''ve got to dare to find that."


    "Hmm¡­" Beam considered it. "How do I go about finding something like that?"


    But Dominus just shook his head, a pained look on his face. "I have no idea. It''s beyond my perception. I would say that the fight with the Hobgoblin might serve as a catalyst for it¡­ but I''d be lying to you, boy. Never in my long life has progress been granted in a moment of pinch. It''s either there before when you need it, or never there at all, by my experience¡­ So I fear for you, I do, boy.


    This here is a reckless pursuit."


    "I''ll find something anyway," Beam said, clenching his fist.


    Dominus stillcked confidence, his eyes were filled with pity. "Such is the optimism of one that has not sought such a thing, only to fail time and time again. The world I know is a rigid one, where progress is built up step by step, along a cruel and winding, unpredictable path.


    Of course, there are oft shes of extreme progress, where youpletely surpass your limits, but such things are not magical ¨C they happen over the course of many days, as you digest them. And that is what you yourself have experienced.


    What you require here is the miraculous ability to suddenly go from lifting the third stone for ten, to suddenly being able to lift the fifth stone for fifty ¨C such a thing doesn''t just spring up in the course of a mere few hours."


    The night was already a deep dark, and Beam could barely see his master''s face as he gave his warnings.


    "You will not gain what you need through further practice," Dominus sighed. "You are best leaving your body to rest, and instead employing your mind. Your only hope is to find something of the like that I have never been able to discover."


    "I suppose I''ll go for a walk then," Beam pondered. Strangely, even though he was so close to his deadline, he did not yet feel nervous. He still clung onto the belief that he would find that which he needed.


    "Mhm," Dominus grunted in response, looking exhausted. Beam felt bad for him, seeing that, knowing that he had put the knight through a lot. He hardened his heart once more, and again clenched his fist, resolving that he would win, no matter what.


    Beam left their camp and its fire behind him, heading deeper into the forest, where the dense trees did not allow a single sliver of light to prate.


    He walked half-blind through the dark, as his mind ran with thoughts about possible routes that he might take to his victory. One being the utilisation of his newfound strategy skill ¨C at least in Battle ¨C just as he had discussed with Dominus earlier that day. He imagined being able to lead the Hobgoblin on, allowing it to attack in a way that left itself open to a counterattack.


    But in his mind, that strategy still did not bridge hisck of speed. As he was now, he was slower than a Hobgoblin and weaker too.


    Vaguely, he wandered in the direction of the mountain river, his feet calmly treading afortable course, even though his eyes could not see the many holes in the ground and the many extended roots that threatened to trip him up. Only once or twice did he stumble.

 Chapter 114: The Making of a Monster - Part 5

    The trees thinned the nearer to the river he grew, and the light of the moon managed to break through. Beam nced at it, noting that it was full. It radiated a golden light, whereas often it tended to appear silver.


    Beam noted that too, wondering if an omen from the skies could allow his thoughts to transform, and send him in a new direction of thought, so that he might find that which he was looking for.


    The river''s water ran ck as Beam neared it. Fast flowing, for the most part, aside from a small pocket of stillness where the rocky bank angled and the current could not prate. Listlessly, Beam put his hand in the water, allowing the strong current to take hold of it, dragging it along in its flow.


    He noted the ripples along the current. Where the water sloshed over rocks and made bigger waves, each one different from thest. He felt the river''s indomitable adaptive power as it ran, and he wondered if he could take anything from its strength and make it his own.


    His hand soon grew cold as he left it there. With the sun gone, there was nothing to heat the chilly mountain water. It was a truly harsh temperature now, with them being so close to winter.


    "Mm¡­" Beam twisted his lips, as no truly promising thoughts came to him, despite his urgent thinking. There didn''t even seem to be any hope in them. No matter what angle he took it from, no idea came to him that promised the strength to defeat the Hobgoblin. "I need to think about this differently somehow¡­"


    He hated the cold water. Ever since Dominus had started making him go into the cold rivers as part of his training, Beam had grown even more sure in that stance. Especially at this time of year ¨C the cold was a level of suffering that he never quite grew used to. Even if he was able to spend slightly longer in there after weeks of doing it, the suffering remained all the same.


    But from the cold, there always came a change in his mind. For hours afterwards, he would feel an indescribable calm, as though that ice had even managed to quiet his soul.


    Tempted by such a thing, Beam took his shoes off, then coat, then his shirt, then his trousers, for the first time voluntarily confronting the cold.


    Immediately, it took his breath away. His chest constricted as his body fought to gasp. But he controlled that urge, used to it by now. He steadied his breathing with a few short and sharp breaths, gradually ustoming himself to the cold. The water came up all the way to his neck, as he sat in the only still portion of the river, his toes just barely touching the cool rocks of the riverbed.


    Once he had adjusted well enough, he ducked his head under and held his breath for a few long moments. Already, his perspective had changed. His body only wanted one thing: to escape the cold. Thoughts of the Hobgoblin were hard to cling to, and they came more calmly than they had just moments before, devoid of the frantess.


    Sitting under water like that, in the dark, Beam felt an indescribable peace. He could hear the sounds of rushing water through his ears, but because he was not immediately part of it ¨C as he now sat in the still pocket of water by the bank ¨C it became a peaceful and soothing sound.


    The water gave him a feeling of weightlessness, and with the darkness that came with it, he was hit by a feeling like he was floating through the void.


    Rarely did Beam ever feel so open. Along with the calmness, he could feel a terrible anxiety wing at him. ''So that''s where the trouble lies,'' a part of him murmured to himself. Yet the part that resisted confronting this terrible threat to his soul, that part still reigned supreme.


    And rightly so, for it knew that to confront these foreign elements was the riskiest of all procedures, a danger worse than death, a danger of losing oneself entirely.


    He resurfaced for a gasp of breath, before immediately going back under, drawn by the sensation. His thoughts faded entirely. They seemed lesser than this feeling, as though subordinate to it. In the stillness of that floating void, his body filled with peace, he allowed that feeling to take fully over and he surrendered to it, imagining for a moment that he was merely drifting through eternity.


    With that sensation, the gears in his brain began turning of their own volition. He no longer had to force the thoughts or seek them out ¨C they actively ran to him. They carried the scent of that which Dominus had spoken of. That whichy beyond perception. That which words failed to describe, so feeling did the work instead.


    It did not offer the power he sought, but it offered just the tiniest shift in perception. Just the smallest poke of encouragement to allow the slightest creepings of what many would call madness to wiggle their way in.


    He hardened his jaw and resurfaced the water, feeling as though he had attained the slightest bit of understanding. Like a tiny fleck of gold dust ¨C just enough to tell him that it was barely real.


    Doing his best to rid himself of that water that still clung to his skin, he hurriedly dressed himself, his body shivering all the while, desperately trying to restore heat to his body.


    But even as the heat fought to return, the feeling did not fade. There, within it, Beam found both hope and he found mncholy. He found the hope that there existed a route to his victory, and he found the mncholy at having to abandon a part of himself in pursuit of that process.


    The moon rose higher in the sky as Beam''s considerations reached their zenith and his shivers pounded through his body. Its golden light shone on the dark mountain river, lighting the surface of the water that Beam had been swimming in just moments before, momentarily casting a light down into its depth.

 Chapter 115: The Making of a Monster - Part 6

    There, Beam caught sight of a fish. The moonlight shone off its silvery scales, making it appear white as it shone.


    There came a caw from beside Beam as he observed the fish, as a gleeful crow hopped and fluttered in the air, until it came just up to Beam''s shoulders, before it would allow itself to fall, before leaping up again, in joyful jubtion.


    Beam observed it through narrowed eyes, feeling disquieted by its presence, but not attempting to shoo it away. As it cawed and made its racket, Beam once more nced back to the river to observe the fish.


    The fish was no longer alone. Now, it was joined by a dark shadow, of the same size and shape of it. More than likely the same type of fish ¨C only this one''s scales shone darkly when the light hit them, revealing its ckness.


    The two fish circled each other in a loving dance. Where one went, the other followed, never tiring of their game.


    For just the briefest of moments, the two shadows of the two fish ovepped with the reflection of the full moon on the water''s surface, and they swam around inside its perimeter.


    "Hmm¡­" Beam tilted his head as he observed it. But the very next moment, the fish had moved on and the illusion was broken.


    The crow cawed noisily again, this time from irritation, as it pped towards the river and pecked at the water with its beak.


    "Mm¡­" Beam murmured again, engaging in just a moment more of contemtion, before he turned on his heel and headed back to the campsite where his mastery in wait.


    "There''s something in this," Beam whispered to himself as he walked, again more driven by a feeling than solid concrete thoughts. A feeling that urged him to experiment, to explore, to not let this insight go to waste.


    Dominus looked up from his spot by the fire as Beam approached, expecting to see the boy''s face down trodden and disappointed. Yet it was his own expression that shifted, as it betrayed his own surprise.


    Rather than defeat, he found change. Within the boy''s aura, he noted just the slightest whiff of something new. Some little ember that longed for growth. From that, before Beam even opened his mouth, Dominus was able to guess what he was about to say.


    "I''m ready," Beam said. "Let''s go."


    ¡­


    ¡­


    It was the middle of the night when N awoke. Shey with her family around the fire in the centre of their round house, all of them covered in furs, breathing softly and regrly in the throes of sleep.


    N rubbed her eyes, ncing at the fire. It needed some more wood putting on. She figured that she may as well tend to it, now that she was up so suddenly and rubbing her eyes.


    She gently peeled away Stephanie''s arms from around her waist. Her little sister had snuck into her bed, as she often did, whilst Davidy under the furs on the opposite side of the fire with her mother.


    Stephanie let out a murmur as N freed herself from her, her tiny hands grasping for something to cling on to. But N gently slipped some fur within her hands, and the troubled frown on her sister''s face soon faded and she once more drifted back into a peaceful sleep. N smiled watching her, before ncing over to the opposite wall for more wood to throw on the fire.


    There, she only found a single small log, where ordinarily there should have been a pile. Each day, before bed, they made sure that pile was well stacked for when they needed to fuel up the fire during the night.


    N frowned. Someone must have forgotten that it was their turn to get the wood. Then, after a moment''s more thought, she realized that person was her. She''d been so excited as ofte, with all that kept happening, that she was finding she was more liable to forget things than she normally might be.


    N silently apologized to her family for forgetting, before pulling on some thick trousers and slipping a coat over her nightclothes.


    As she stepped outside, the bitter night''s cold hit her at once. She nced up into the sky, to see a golden moon shining high above, having reached its zenith. From that, she concluded that it must have been around midnight. She stared at it a moment, appreciating its beauty, before she went round the back of their house and started filling her arms with wood from the small woodshed.


    That was where they shifted the wood after leaving it inside to dry for a few days, to get rid of the worst of the moisture from the bark. There wasn''t enough room inside to leave all the wood there permanently.


    She quietly went back inside, stocking the fire well and high with some thick logs that should keep her family warm for a few hours. She moved to close the door after herself, but paused a moment, as she caught sight of the moon.


    She bit her lip and frowned, not quite understanding the impulse. Oddly enough, despite it being the middle of the night, she didn''t feel tired in the least. She eyed her bed by the fire with her little sister waiting and the tiredness still didn''t feel at all near. Instead, what she felt was a restlessness, an odd impulse to wander, one that she''d never had during the night before.


    She shrugged to herself, supposing that it was fine. Even if the woods were dangerous at night, the vige and the ins were all rtively safe, and with the light of the moon pouring down on everything, visibility was more than good enough to keep herself safe.


    With that in mind, sheyered herself up in more clothing and fetched her hunting knife, wearing it at her hip, before she once more exited her home and quietly closed the door behind her.


    She felt a rush of excitement as she did that, feeling as though she was going on an adventure. This was the first time she had been out sote, after all, and alone too. There was a rush of freedom with it, an indescribable exhration.


    She walked down the path in the direction of the woods, with no destination in mind, merely enjoying the walk. She had half expected that to be enough to calm her sudden wanderlust, but once she reached the treeline, she still did not feel like going back.

 Chapter 116: The Making of a Monster - Part 7

    She turned and looked around, wondering what to do. There was not a single person in sight for miles around. The roads were empty and the world was quiet, with the sky full of a bright moon and many thousands of sparkling stars.


    The ins caught her attention then. She rarely spared them time for a wander, for the hunting was far better in the forest. She made her decision, then, and instead of entering the woods, walked alongside them, further to the east, gently picking her way through the long grass as she enjoyed the chilly night''s breeze.


    A white rabbit shed by her as she walked, startling her. She let out a yelp of surprise.


    It stood on its hind legs and tilted its head at her cutely, before setting its feet back on the ground and going rushing further into the long grass, even further to the east.


    N smiled at it, finding it to be incredibly charming. It was rare that one found a white rabbit. In fact, she never had. The ones she hunted were always brown and grey.


    Out of curiosity, N decided to follow it for a little while longer, deciding that she''d probably head back soon, since she''d already gone quite a distance from the vige.


    And so she walked in search of this white rabbit, further and further, until the long grass began to shrink, giving way to shorter stuff, filled with thistles, that only crept up as high as her ankles. There, ahead, where that grass began next to the trees, N paused in rm, seeing three figures up ahead and sensing an immense danger in the air.


    She drew the knife at her hip despite herself and slowly started to back away. One of the shadows turned violently. A man in a strawhat. He was still a good distance away, but his eyes pierced her, making her feel like a tiny mouse within the vision of a hawk. She shrank back despite herself.


    But after a moment, the aggression faded, and N too was less on her guard. She thought she recognized such a shadow.


    The figure motioned with its arm for her to approach, and after a moment''s pause, she dared to. As she crept closer, still with her knife unsheathed, her initial recognition proved to be well-founded. There, with his strawhat on his head and a heavy cloak over his shoulders was the old man that supported Beam.


    "Good evening," he said dryly, once she was close enough.


    "¡­What are you doing out here?" She said, nearing his side. Only once she stood next to him could she make out the figure of Beam, around fifty paces away. "Is that Beam..? Gods! Is that a Hobgoblin!? What''s he doing?"


    Dominus held up a hand for quiet. "If you are going to be here, then you must be silent. Do not distract the boy from his task."


    Beam didn''t turn around as he faced off against the Hobgoblin, sword in hand, as though the two were waiting for some sort of signal. Around them both, N finally noticed the corpses of 6 Goblins, strewn out, some with limbs severed.


    "You''re not seriously going to let him fight that, are you? He doesn''t stand a chance! His leg is in too bad a state ¨C it''s barely been two weeks since he injured it! He''s going to get killed if you leave him like that!" N shouted, unable to hide her worry.


    Dominus sighed and rubbed his temples. "I am of the same opinion, girl. But there are certain choices that people make that we must not trample on, even if we believe that will lead to their demise. Do not stain his honour."


    "Honour?" N repeated, her voice rising. "What good is honour when you''re dead?"


    "You might not value the worth he puts in honour, but that does not give you the right to snatch it from him. Be silent, girl. There are forces at work this night. The Gods are at y. Merely observe ¨C if you get in the way, I will have to forbid you from remaining," Dominus said. "Now ¨C do you wish to stay?"


    N gulped. She already knew that she wouldn''t stand a chance if Dominus wanted to make her leave. This was a man who had in a Hobgoblin with a single casual flick of his wrist. He was a monster that far eclipsed them. "¡­I''ll stay," she said quietly.


    "Good. Now look ¨C it''s starting," Dominus said, pointing with a finger, as the Hobgoblin let out a low growl and lunged towards Beam.


    ¡­


    ¡­


    "Damn it! Will someone shut that bloody bird up?" Greeves roared, as he threw a pillow at the window, attempting to silence the relentless cawing of a crow that had been robbing him of sleep for the past few hours.


    Even with him shouting so loud, there was no reply from his servants. Greeves got up, his face contorted in anger, and he stormed out of his room, running straight into Judas as he sat there on his chair, standing guard, drifting in and out of sleep.


    "Wake up, you oaf!" Greeves said, smacking the big man awake.


    "Mm?" Judas said, blinking the sleep from his eyes as he gathered his bearings and shot up. "Ah, sorry, boss. What were you saying?"


    The vein bulged on Greeves'' forehead as he gritted his teeth, seeing how soundly the man that was meant to be guarding him had slept. "Do you really think I''m going to pay you when you sleep on the job? Do something about the bird! It''s been going at it for hours now."


    "Bird?" Judas repeated with a frown. "I haven''t heard any bird."


    "No, I imagine not, because you''ve been fast asleep, you durd. It''s a damn crow, that''s what it is. Go outside and neck the bastard," Greeves said.


    "Eh¡­? But how am I meant to catch it? Where even is it?" Judas said slowly.


    Greeves had to make a conscious effort to hold back from pping the man, such was his frustration. With a roar of anger, he stormed back into his room and slipped on his leather boots, before grabbing a thick woollen jumper and waxed coat to go over the top of it. He grabbed his knife from the bedside to go with it, not bothering to change out of his night trousers. "Right. Outside, now.


    We''re going to gut this damn bird and I''m going to sleep in till the afternoon," Greeves dered.


    They stormed out of the front of Greeves'' house in search of the bird, only to discover that it was right outside the front door, waiting for them, cawing up a vicious racked as it flew around.


    "Now do you see the bird?" Greeves said, twisting his face unpleasantly.


    Judas looked simrly displeased by the noise. "Aye, I see the bird," he said, drawing his knife, swinging at it. But the crow easily evaded, dancing around the de and flying at Greeves, pecking him on the head.


    "AH, DAMN THING!" Greeves shouted, swinging wildly with his knife, but missing just as Judas had, provoking another peck on the head from the crow, this time drawing a small amount of blood.


    When the two recovered their senses, the crow was sitting a small distance away, cawing at them, egging them on. The two stormed after it, swinging at it, only for the crow to dodge and dance further away.


    They were halfway out of the vige when the two began to grow tired of the affair. "Damn it all. Just leave the thing. We''ve already chased it off ¨C that should be good enough," Greeves said, turning around to go back to his house and finally get some sleep in.


    But the crow was not want to let them go. As soon as his back was turned, it pped towards him, and pecked him on the head again, before pping back to its original spot, luring them even further away from the vige.


    Greeves grit his teeth. "This isn''t a fuckin'' normal bird. Which one of those bastard Gods is toying with me? What have I done?"


    "Eh¡­ boss, didn''t you give the order for us to take out that family yesterday..? Might have been something special about them," Judas said ominously.


    Greeves red at him in irritation. "Piss off. I don''t need you lecturing me on morals. We''ll gut this crow and cook it up tomorrow ¨C see how mighty the Gods are then."


    "I dunno if that''s a good idea, boss¡­" Judas said.


    "Shut up, would you? You wouldn''t know a good idea if it hit you in the face. And this bird isn''t going to leave us alone. Even though it''s a pain in the arse and I''d much rather be asleep, we may as well chase it as far as we can, and hopefully it''ll eventually grow tired, or even better, we''d manage to catch the damn thing," Greeves said.


    But those hopes proved optimistic. They chased the crow back and forth all the way to the edge of the forest, until it sat on the ins, amidst the long grass. From there, they''d been about to go back, only for the creature to fly at them once more and attack them in a fit of rage.


    They''d sighed and resigned themselves to follow it some more, until the sounds of battle crept into their eardrums from a distance. The metallic ring of sword against sword.

 Chapter 117: The Making of a Monster - Part 8

    Up ahead, they saw two shadows, one taller than the other. And beyond that, amidst the moonlight, there danced two figures, engaged in a vicious battle.


    The crow let out a victory cry as they grew nearer and sped into the sky, escaping. Greeves reached to sh it with his knife, but the bird was long gone, apparently having achieved its objective.


    "Well, this is fucking ominous," Greeves muttered to himself. But since they were here anyway, he dared to approach those figures. There was nothing to fear regardless, not when Judas was by his side ¨C there wasn''t a man for miles around that could best him. Apparently sensing that there was danger in the air, Judas unhooked his axe from his hip and carried it low by his side.


    As they neared, the two figures turned, showering them in animosity.


    The smaller of the figures took a step back, hiding behind the first, in his straw hat.


    "Merchant¡­" Came an irritated whisper. "To think you''de as well."


    "And who might you be?" Greeves asked as he neared. Then he noticed a sh of red hair behind the figure, as he stood there menacingly. "Ah, who''s that? That''s pretty little N, isn''t it? Well, good evening to you, sweetheart. Whatcha doing out here thiste at night?


    Taking a stroll? Mm?" It was only then that he could make out the figures doing battle a short distance away. The first thing he noticed was the sword ¨C what was once his merchandise. Then he noticed a boy, then he noticed a monstrous Hobgoblin.


    "From the look on your face, now you understand. If you''re here, you''ll stand there quietly. Distract the boy and I will kill you both," the man said threateningly.


    Judas stepped forward, his axe in hand. "Watch how you speak to the boss, old man," he warned.


    But there was a sh and the axe head fell to the floor, having been severed from the shaft. Judas stared at the wooden handle that he was left gripping dumbly, wondering where his weapon had gone.


    "Another word and that will be your head," the man warned. "I do not have the time to be dealing with you. There are far more important things at stake."


    Greeves flinched, seeing the overwhelming disy of strength. Judas bristled as though angered, about to attack, but Greeves held his hand up. "Now, now, Judas. There''s no need to start a fight. As it happens, I have just as much interest in what''s going on over there as everyone else. There''s a lot of money riding on it, after all."


    N shot him a furious re at his words, but Dominus put a firm hand on her head to stop her from speaking and merely pointed to the battle that was unfolding a distance away.


    Beam stood, without even the strength to hold up his sword point anymore. His breathing came in ragged breaths. He was already covered in blood. None of the wounds were especially deep, but they were draining.


    The Hobgoblin ran forward again, wielding its sharp greatsword, making full use of its vicious reach. Beam just barely managed to dodge, feeling the full weight of hisck of speed in that moment. But even after he dodged, the creature barrelled into him with his shoulder, sending him flying.


    "Gods¡­ He''s hopelessly outmatched," Greeves muttered in rm. "Well, at least I''m here to collect my sword back, I suppose."


    "Merchant¡­" Dominus said icily, his tone exasperated. From that distance, Beam couldn''t hear what they were saying, nor had he even noticed that they had arrived.


    He pushed himself back to his feet, his breathing growing worse by the second as the Hobgoblin refused to let the attack up. It moved with a restless anger, an infinite energy. All it wanted to do was tear him to pieces, by whatever means necessary.


    Once more, it sent him flying, this time with a kick. Beam bounced off the ground as he flew through the air, just barely managed to stay clinging to his sword.


    "This isn''t good¡­" N murmured, her voice cracking. "Are you really going to leave him like this?"


    Dominus frowned, a troubled look on his face. "I swore I wouldn''t interfere¡­ I will keep my word."


    Beam grunted as he shifted out of the way, barely dodging the sword of the Hobgoblin as it swung at him. It mmed into the ground, causing a tremor.


    Fear permeated every cell in his body. His whole being screamed out in fear of the impending death. Pain wracked his leg, as he forced it far beyond what he was currently capable of, in a desperate bid to stay alive.


    They''d been at it for five minutes already, a desperate struggle, far longer than any such intense fight was want to go on for ¨C especially when one side was so dominant.


    But, surprising even himself, Beam was holding on. Hecked his strength; hecked his speed and yet, somehow, even as blow after blow ttered into his body and blood poured from his busted lip and swollen eye, he still managed to defend.


    In that sea of fear, in that atmosphere of overwhelming pressure, he felt the same floating darkness of void as he had in the river. Well, not quite the same ¨C but there was a simrity to it. His fear came tainted with a heavy nostalgia that seemed to slow time itself, as though this here, these moments so close to death, as though he''d been here before.


    And in truth, he had, though he hadn''t felt it with his previous encounters with the other Hobgoblins. Perhaps, because some part of his being still had clung to hope then ¨C a hope that Dominus would arrive and save his life the moment it became clear that he could not win.


    Now there was nothing like that. There was no salvation. There were only red eyes, bulging green muscles and a massive swinging de. The creature sought to split him in two this time. Beam eyed it carefully through his uninjured eye. It seemed slower than before ¨C only slightly though.


    Perhaps the Hobgoblin was tiring, or perhaps Beam was finally growing ustomed to movements.

 Chapter 118: The Making of a Monster - Part 9

    Whatever the case, any such improvements in his situation were immediately cancelled out by his own rapidly tiring body, with his ever-increasing amount of injuries. Again he dodged back, just as he had before, leaping as though off a building, barely able to keep a hold of his sword in the process.


    Throughout the entire encounter, with no speed to assist him, Beam had not been able to attempt a counterattack even once. It was less a duel and more a one-sided beating. But the fact remained, that by some miracle, Beam was still alive.


    There was no reason that he should have been able tost so long, not when his fight had concluded far more rapidly thest time, and he was even weaker now than he was then.


    Of all those present, only Dominus noted that. He squinted hard, trying to find something. Something to set his own mind at ease. He searched for the shield that seemed to be defending Beam from certain death, and he searched for whether he could turn it into a sword and secure victory.


    But there was still only that scent of before ¨C the same minute change in disposition that he had carried back with him from his walk by the mountain river. Dominus searched to put a title to it. He didn''t know quite what it was. In fact, it may have been nothing at all ¨C aside from a bubble of potential.


    ''Find it, boy,'' Dominus murmured to himself, clenching his fist.


    The battle raged on. Ten minutes psed, with no end in sight. All who watched stood entranced, unable to acknowledge that such a length of time had passed. They bore witness to a desperate struggle. A fight between a hopelessly outmatched boy and beast. The more he struggled, the more they cheered for him.


    Not just for his own sake, but for theirs. He offered a hope beyond his own victory ¨C a hope that any forward facing human sought to cling to. The desperate longing that their suffering would be rewarded. The hope of a shattered reality, and the longing for the potential beyond it.


    At fifteen minutes, there was a shift. Even the Hobgoblin was breathing heavily now ¨C but that did not seem to be what caused the change. With one eye fully closed from bruising, and the other bloodshot as it desperately sought to take everything in, Beam confronted a lunging de.


    It swayed in his vision, blurring. He''d felt beyond disoriented for a while, as every blow and every dodge wracked his body with a tremendous impact.


    His legs shook beneath him, begging for him to stop his foolish endeavour, to merely give up and give them a chance at rest. They swore to him, that if he attempted to dive away again, they would not support him. They would no longer lend him the strength he needed, for they did not have it ¨C he would have to die to the Hobgoblin''s de instead.


    And so, as the de came in blurred in Beam''s vision, he did not take a step back. For the first time in the fight, he dared to overturn it and attempt a counterattack. Just before the sweeping side shnded, Beam let out a bellow, and bashed it from underneath with his own sword, redirecting it high above his head as he ducked and attempted a weak counterattack with his battered body.


    The tip of his well-sharpened de zipped across the Hobgoblin''s well-muscled belly, managing a shallow wound despite its impossibly tough skin.


    A dark aura escaped Beam for just a second ¨C only Dominus noted it.


    ''Ingolsol,'' he murmured to himself, his palms sweating as he clenched them. He could see it now ¨C the only reason the boy was remaining standing. He was looking within himself, he was eyeing the doors of his overwhelming potential. But to reach them, he had to be a King. A King that would subordinate even Gods. That was the position he was in, an impossible one.


    He had resisted the two Gods for the longest time and Ingolsol even longer. But could he convince them to serve him?


    All stood there dazed as they watched the green blood drip from the wound, the Hobgoblin included. It looked down on itself in surprise, pausing a good few moments, its breath heaving, struggling to acknowledge what had happened. And then it looked to Beam with its angered red eyes, seeing him swaying drunkenly from side to side, looking as though a strong wind would be enough to knock him over.


    It gave a savage roar of rage, beating its chest with its free hand, before it dove at Beam with renewed vigour, intent on ending his life for good this time.


    "He got it!" N said in awe. "That''s good, right ¨C he''s getting there, isn''t he? Can''t he win at this rate?" She directed her hopeful questions towards Dominus, and as a result, both Greeves and Judas were looking to him as well, valuing his opinion far more than one ordinarily would for a stranger.


    But Dominus kept his eyes locked on the fight as he gave a grunt. "There''s something. But he hasn''t gone all the way yet. Now is when it gets dangerous."


    Just as he said that, the Hobgoblinnded a massive strike, putting even more strength into the blow than it had before, intending to sever Beam in two with it. Beam raised his sword in an attempt at blocking it, but all he managed to do was stop the cutting edge ¨C the force of the blow sent him flying.


    He soared through the air for a good few meters, before hended hard on his back, winding himself.


    The Hobgoblin was on him a momentter. Even with no air in his lungs and his body threatening to shut down at any moment, Beam was forced to defend himself.


    "No!" N couldn''t help but shout. The others present shared the same opinion. From their perspective, that was a finishing blow. The boy was t on his back, and the hulking body of the Hobgoblin was right above him.

 Chapter 119: The Making of a Monster - Part 10

    The creature stood atop Beam''s shin, pinning him in ce, its massive fangs curling into a clownish smile as it readied the sword by his neck for the killing blow. Beam stared at it with his single eye, tinged with redness from the blood. He gritted his teeth, the fear still plumbing through his veins, the pain along with it.


    But apanying them now was a rage of his own. The same fire that he had felt with each defeat. He recalled that emotion and it fuelled him. He curled his fingers around the grip of his sword as ity by his side and he watched the Hobgoblin with an intense re, taking in its every movement.


    The blurriness was even worse now after he had sustained thatst blow. But with it, the feeling he''d found in the river became easier to tap into. It became easier to see beyond the world in front of him and grasp for that whichy beyond.


    The Hobgoblin swung its sword. Its movements blurred. With that blurriness came the illusion of ack of speed ¨C it was slightly slower than Beam had grown used to. Yet, in reality, this was its fastest strike yet, as it intended to behead him with a single swing.


    "Stop him!" N cried, her fingers digging into Dominus'' arm as she desperately pleaded with him. But Dominus'' eyes were locked on the battle. His gaze following Beam''s twitching fingers as he gripped his sword.


    Dominus felt it again ¨C the overwhelming aura of an inhuman power. Though this one did not bear the same dark malice as before. Instead, it seemed more nourishing and warm, like a fire in the heart. ''Is this udia this time?'' he thought to himself with widened eyes. ''He''s making use of both of them now¡­ Could it be?


    Is he actually managing it?'' A tingle ran down his spine as he continued to watch in anticipation.


    The blow came crashing down, and Beam moved with it. He slid the tip of his de up the length of the creature''s forearm,nding the deepest gash he had managed yet, provoking a howl of pain, as it struggled to keep its attack on course. But Beam was already moving now.


    He used the weight of the Hobgoblin''s swing and kicked with his free leg at it, sending it in the same direction, staggering just enough for Beam to free himself and crawl back to his feet.


    A low growl escaped from the creature''s lips as it bared its fangs and grasped at the wound on its forearm. Beam continued to re at it with his single widened eye, stood on his trembling legs.


    The creature ran in again in its fury. The first blow came from above, to the right. It wielded its sword with both hands this time, filling it with a tremendous amount of power. Beam was able to follow the blow with his blurry vision, nudging it just enough to the side that he could avoid it without taking a step back. But the Hobgoblin was used to that trick by now.


    It swung again, this time in a horizontal sh from the other side, aiming it lower, so that Beam would struggle to get his sword under it to parry.


    There, Beam made a bold move ¨C he had to, his body was too exhausted to continue diving around. Since the Hobgoblin went lower, this time he battered the de downwards, risking losing both his feet should anything go wrong. But there, the length of the greatsword became its weakness, as the tip buried itself into the ground, halting its movements for just a moment.


    And then Beam stepped in, shing it across its torso, putting in enough strength that he hoped to kill it.


    But the creature''s hide was as thick as ever and his arms were tired. The wound was deep, but it was far from fatal. It roared in pain and punched at him, catching him in the side and sending him sprawling a distance away.


    From there, it was allowed a moment to breathe as it dragged its sword free from the soil and regarded the wound on its chest with angry intent.


    By now, the onlookers could think of no words to say, for they dared not. They might hope from the wounds that he was inflicting that Beam''s chances of victory were growing higher and higher, but they could not cheer his sesses too strongly, when they saw the state he was in, half dead already, hardly able to stand on his feet.


    Even with the wounds piling up, the Hobgoblin could end it all in a single strike, yet Beam could hardly prate its thick hide. As things were now, they were at best evenly matched and at worst embroiled in a long battle that ultimately pointed to the Hobgoblin''s victory.


    Not only that, the test of the endurance seemed to be strongly weighted in the Hobgoblin''s favour. Its only sign of fatigue yet was its heavy breathing. It didn''t seem to be suffering from the kind of deep systematic fatigue that Beam had been inflicted with.


    Forty-five minutes had now passed in a fight that showed no signs of yet concluding. Beam somehow continued to doggedly escape death each time the Hobgoblin came rushing at him, and the Hobgoblin, for its part, showed no signs of giving up. It was still well fuelled by its rage, and as its saliva dripped from its fangs, it was clear that it wanted nothing more than to tear Beam apart.


    A nce at the moon as it went lower in the sky told them that dawn was only growing nearer.


    Inside Beam''s mind, not a single thought flew. True tiredness wracked his being. His existence now knew only pain and so it no longer fled it. Even the fear that had stuck with him for so long was reced by an overwhelming tiredness, as his soul drifted into the dark depths. Yet, each time that it sought to pass the barrier that divided life from death, it hit a wall.


    A tall wall, that to Beam was more fundamental than life itself.

 Chapter 120: The Making of a Monster - Part 11

    When in the direst of circumstances, theplexity of a human being was slowly peeled away, taking with it the most unimportant surface level characteristics first, before slowly but surely devouring everything else. At the bottom, for most people, there were the base desires of an animal ¨C the fear of death and the reluctance to experience pain.


    Yet, somehow, through sheer circumstance, an overwhelming repulsion to defeat had wormed its way so deep in Beam''s mind, that it subordinated every other instinct, even death.


    That repulsion was the only thing that kept him standing. It was as thin as a spider''s thread, controlling his body like a puppet, as his single eye took in the broken images of the world that were now being fed to it.


    The Hobgoblin came in again. Beam dodged the sword and looked for a counter ¨C but his movements were even more sluggish now. The Hobgoblin was on him again before he even had a chance. The best he could do was continue to save his life and survive, as he brushed the blows aside with the least amount of energy that he possibly could.


    The Hobgoblin sped its attacks up and in a whirl of steel, the two stood rooted to the spot, battling an impossible battle of wills in which neither would allow themselves to take a step back.


    It was growing increasingly difficult to follow their movements now¡­ And it was little N who''s sharp eyes saw through the illusion first.


    "Goodness¡­ It can''t be¡­ The Hobgoblin is getting stronger too?" She gasped. Every time the two swords collided, there was a tremor in the air, their raw power obvious to see. And yet Beam delivered these blows with a ck shoulder, with the sloppiness of fatigue more than evident ¨C yet they matched those of the Hobgoblin as its muscles tensed and its veins bulged.


    Dominus nodded in agreement. "It would seem so¡­ This is no normal Hobgoblin after all. We knew so many springing up so suddenly was unnatural ¨C but for a creature of its kind to be able to grow so quickly¡­ There is foulness afoot."


    "It''s getting stronger as well?" Greeves joined in with a frown. "I''d thought the boy was tiring it out, that''s why he was matching it."


    "Nah¡­ Now that you mention it, that bastard Hobgoblin is definitely getting stronger," Judas said, only realizing after N had said it.


    "Could you take it?" Greeves asked.


    Judas shook his head adamantly. "Not a chance. Not as it is now¡­ And Gods, not for as long as the boy has. Look how much the moon has moved, boss! It''s been ages! They''re still fighting like dogs."


    They''d noticed the passage of time, but they''d hardly felt it. Greeves narrowed his eyes as he red. "Fuck. This is no good for my health, I tell you," he said, dabbing the sweat from his forehead.


    Dominus regarded him with a raised eyebrow. "I would have thought you the type to give up on your investment by this point," he said.


    "Damn it," Greeves said, looking away. They all knew what it was they were feeling. They knew why they''d stayed ¨C but Greeves would never admit to that. Not a man like him. Not someone who hadmitted as many heinous crimes as he had. Who had torn families apart, and tortured the innocent.


    For his heart to be swayed in the least, he couldn''t allow it. It was too childish. To feel that same hope of a youth when confronted with heroism. To dare to dream better for himself. To let that same me ignite him.


    And yet it did. Even beyond his worry for his pupil, Dominus'' own heart was stirred, as he witnessed a strength of spirit beyond which he''d ever seen.


    "The eyes truly are the windows to the soul," Dominus murmured, smiling, recalling his first encounter with the boy and those wild, sparkling eyes that had shocked him. "And he''ll go further still. This here is a battle of will and of evolution. Whoeverpletes their evolution first, wins."


    Such was the decision that Beam''s own spirit hade to as he continued his fight. There were no thoughts in his head, yet his heart screamed out. "This isn''t enough! We need more!"


    He searched even deeper within himself, making the demands of his body like a ruthless general would. He felt the three great resources of power ¨C one, his own untapped potential, stoked by years of struggle. Then the shadowy fingers of Ingolsol, begging to rule the mortal realm ¨C and beside him keeping her at bay was udia, the Queen of progress.


    To both of them, his soul cried out amand. "Kneel," it said.


    Even gritting his teeth at this point required more energy than he had. The Hobgoblin was up so close now that Beam could smell its rancid breath as their swords locked up for an instant and slid against each other. The Hobgoblin sought to hold him there, but Beam immediately broke away for another attack.


    There he was, now, beyond exnation. The boy had no speed, yet he was fast. He had no strength, yet he was strong. There was no energy to fill these basic fundamental requirements. His body was far too injured to exert itself properly. Yet, beyond exnation, with a zombie-like resilience, he overcame the physical and advanced.


    The Hobgoblin forced Beam to perform to even greater heights, as he struggled to keep his life against its overwhelming intensity. His sword grew chipped from their overwhelming shes, and the grass around their feet had long since been crushed and trampled, quickly giving way to slick mud in ces, all of which Beam''s eye drank in.


    His focus was intense as his eye widened. Beyond their little radius of battle, he caught nothing. The sameck of awareness of his surroundings that Dominus had once noted now became his strength, for he could spare no distractions ¨C he still did not know that any observers had arrived, even though they had been there for a very long time indeed by now.


    He stared deep into the Hobgoblin''s eyes as he fought it, as though he could overwhelm its intense madness with an equal and opposite force of his own. He watched those eyes for even the slightest glimmer of intent, reading even the slightest of cues to predict the Hobgoblin''s next movements, so that he could work himself into a better position to counter.

 Chapter 121: The Making of a Monster - Part 12

    His soul sought all that the Hobgoblin was. It looked to devour its entire being. It sought to reduce it to something as predictable as a heartbeat, overwriting itsplexity with the simplicity of absolute understanding.


    For the first time, the Hobgoblin took a backwards step. Its rage wavered for just a moment, as its ragged breathing took over, and its muscles showed the slightest glimmer of fatigue. Beam followed it coldly.


    It swung at him from overhead, but Beam was already deflecting the strike before it had even thrown it, his de sliding past the Hobgoblin''s massive weapon, in up close, where he severed two of its fingers andnded his deepest sh on his torso yet.


    "Ah¡­ We have our turning point," Dominus said quietly. The other three looked at him, then back to the fight.


    The Hobgoblin stood looking at its missing fingers in something that approached disbelief. Its jaw ckened for a second, and its overwhelming intensity flickered, like a candle in a breeze. It looked at Beam as he stood, leaning on his sword. Though tired, the boy''s eye did not leave the creature for even a second.


    It gave a great howl as it tilted its head up towards the moon and beat its chest, sending droplets of its green blood raining down on the soil. And then it picked up its sword again in both hands, its rage reignited like a bonfire, seeking to draw as deeply into its own depths as Beam had from his.


    Its muscles bulged, as though growing ¨C and then they really did grow. Like the century-long growth of a tree in fast forward, the muscles of it tore, blood shot outwards, before they reformed again, twice asrge as before, muscles coiling around themselves like vines. And then the other arm followed suit, and then its legs, and then its torso, and then its whole body bulged and doubled in size.


    Dripping blood, its skin began to regrow. A single horn grew out of its head and all its wounds healed. Only then did it stop its murderous howl, twice the size of Beam by now, its sword appearing tiny in its new massive palms.


    Greeves couldn''t help but shudder at the intensity of the new aura. Judas took a step back despite himself, feeling overwhelming fear begin to dig in. N''s eyes widened as tears began to flow and she sobbed for her friend that had fought so valiantly.


    "Why¡­ Why!?" She murmured. "He struggled so much ¨C he grew so much! He came so close to do the impossible, and yet¡­ There''s this¡­ What even is this? How can the Gods be so cruel?"


    Her question was echoed in the eyes of Greeves and Judas as they looked to Dominus for an exnation, but he shook his head. "I have never seen such a creature before¡­ Clearly, it''s an evolved Hobgoblin, but such a thing surely has never existed before now. For a Goblin soul to support an aura as oppressive as this¡­ That would be impossible without some meddling."


    "Will you help him now?" N asked.


    Dominus considered it a moment, as he reached into the folds of his clothes and drew his sword. "Aye, I suppose I should."


    But the evolved Hobgoblin shot forward a momentter, the ground trembling from its steps, its mighty roar ttening the grass down around it. Yet Beam did not take a backward step. He did not have the energy for it. Even if he was to lose, he would not retreat. He could not.


    It swung that massive sword in a single hand, faster than it ever had before, supported by its new muscles. It seemed more like an attack intent on trapping Beam than killing him, for he swung the sword at Beam''s left, whilst it ran towards his right, hoping to cut him off.


    It was still a blurred world in Beam''s eyes. He hardly noticed the change. The only thing to tell him that something was different was his pounding heart against his ribcage as breathing grew even more difficult, to the point of impossible. He knew he could notst against the creature for much longer.


    On a fundamental level, the arrogance of the beast''s transformation irritated Beam and he found himself using what little energy he had left to twist his face in annoyance.


    This beast, the same one that just moments before had betrayed its fear ¨C that had taken a step back. It now surged forwards with confidence, after inting its body and dramatically increasing its strength and slightly increasing its speed.


    But Beam''s heart had already tasted its hesitation. He had already taken a bite out of its being. This here was a battle of spirit ¨C and the Hobgoblin had already lost.


    The giant creature carried out that attack of his, thinking it had cornered Beam, but whilst it looked like he was doing nothing, his body was already in the perfect position to respond. His eye shed his authority and the stampeding beast was forced to pause for a moment, without understanding why.


    It did not have the mind toprehend that which had happened to it. It did not realize that the instinct it felt was the same instinct that every animal felt ¨C the fear of death. It was not astute enough to recognize the truth from Beam''s eye: that had it had already been seen through entirely.


    It cancelled out the fear with rage and continued forward, the same frightened soul merely in an erged body.


    As Dominus prepared to move, a sense of danger made him pause. The smell of smoke. Beam''s ember had managed to catch fire.


    His mes that had burned three different colours, now they burned all the same, in a raging inferno, he''d just barely managed to integrate the two essences of light and dark within his soul. But would it be enough? For certain, his progress had been unlocked and his potential poured forth ¨C but progress needed time. How great was the power he had achieved?

 Chapter 122: The Making of a Monster - Part 13

    As the Hobgoblin''s sword neared him, Beam leapt, using it as a springboard. An impossible feat, for true, to aplish such timing, such precision, when the sharp de was moving so fast. But Beam''s eyes saw it differently. What had gradually slowed over the course of the fight was now entirely still, as the Hobgoblin revealed the full extent of its being and Beam devoured it.


    From the new weight on the de, the creature finally saw through its mistake. Feeling the fear of death overwhelm it, as Beam now stood so close to his neck, his sword shining menacingly in the fading moonlight.


    It roared and frantically shook him off, determined to deprive him of his perch, trusting in its own thick hide ¨C that if the boy had no solid ground to swing from, he''d never be able to damage him.


    With the shake of its de, it flung Beam behind it, leaving itself off bnce, but eliminating the risk regardless. And yet, even as he flung the boy away, the sense of overwhelming dread did not fade and he dared to look over his shoulder to find out why.


    As Beam flew, he was perfectly bnced. The truth was soon revealed ¨C Beam had seen through that too. Before he hit the ground, he sliced out at the soft spot behind the evolved Hobgoblin''s knee, targeting the tendon. His de was stopped short halfway through by the creature''s tough tendons, but the damage was enough.


    Its right knee buckled from the pain and it fell forward, its sweeping swordying out in front of it and his twisting neck nearing it.


    His sword-wielding hand hit the ground first, leaving the sword pointed upwards. His neck slid onto it a momentter, skewing it all the way through.


    It coughed up a mouthful of green blood, as its eyes widened in shock and its body trembled with fear. Beam nced at it. "You lost the moment you showed fear," he told it. "I see through you."


    And from the sparkling of his wide eye, those words rang true. Even without intelligence, without humannguage, the Hobgoblin seemed to understand. It saw the golden flecks rushing around eyes of green and blue and grey ¨C and he saw the flecks of redness rising among them, tainted by blood, and from that, he knew he had lost.


    From the moment it had started its charge, Beam had seen all the way to its death. Knowing that he could not fatally wound it with his own sword and strength, he instead made the creature turn its de upon itself.


    The creature spasmed and gasped, as its blood ran out. It died a momentter.


    The observers stood there stunned, truly rooted to the spot, as they continued to stare at the battered boy, covered in blood, his body crooked from exhaustion. The first light of dawn broke as he stood there, catching his heroic figure for just a second.


    Beam looked up at the sky and the fading stars. The world remained blurry to him. Now, apanied by an intense dizziness. He thought he heard a woman''sughter ring out as he stood there. A voice spoke to him a momentter.


    "You''ll do," it whispered seductively.


    "Heh¡­" Beam said, reaching a hand to his forehead, feeling the exhaustion overwhelming him. "Guess I must be going mad too," he told himself, as his legs swayed underneath him.


    Just before he could copse, he felt an arm hold him up. He squinted to see who it was, finally noticing Dominus. "Ah, master¡­" he said in a weak voice. "I know I said¡­ a Hobgoblin¡­ but does this count?"


    Dominus beamed a smile and shook his head. "d to see you''re still a pain in the arse," he grinned, before grasping his shoulders and looking him dead in the eye. "You''ve made me proud today, boy ¨C beyond what you could ever understand. You''ve tapped into a realm that I was denied ess to and you snatched victory despite the odds against you. Those are the makings of a hero, boy.


    You have what it takes. Seeing such spirit, I believe it now when I say it. Be it in a decade, or several, you, boy, will y the Pandora Goblin."


    "A decade is a pretty¡­ long way off. I still have those other tests to finish," Beam said.


    "Hah! Comining about a mere decade. Still the same old impatient little shit," Dominus said.


    Greeves wandered over as they spoke, admiring the corpse and then picking up the sword to nce at it. "Ah, now this is far too fine a de for a mere Goblin¡­ and the amount of steel on it too, mm."


    Dominus caught him before he got too many wild ideas. "An expensive de for true ¨C and one that you''ll be paying the boy extra for if you want it. Along with this here corpse. You gave him a quest and he over delivered."


    Greeves grunted. "Damn it, even I''m not so coldhearted as to feel nothing after seeing a disy like that¡­ It''s not just profit I''m eyeing."


    Beam looked at him, a threat in his eye.


    Greeves shook his hands in front of him in apology. "I get itd, I get it! I was wrong. I shouldn''t have threatened ya like that. Maybe I don''t need to y quite so strongly in the dark. Could be that it''d be more bnced for me to show a slight bit of kindness now and that."


    As both Judas and Beam looked at him in confusion, the merchant hurriedly tried to correct himself. "Damn it. I''m not trying to say I''m suddenly out to be a good person. My g is already dyed the colours it is. But maybe, just make, there''s a ce in a bit of sunlight even for a creature as dark as me."


    Dominus sniffed. "I doubt it. But I won''t stop you from looking."


    Greeves twisted his face. "I don''t even know your name, and I already dislike you. Funny how things like that work, isn''t it?"


    "Not particrly," Dominus said. "You''re merely responding to my own thorough distaste for you. Your talk of change, here and now, it irritates me. For a creature such as yourself, even after bearing witness to such a thing, you are far too long gone down the path of darkness. Tomorrow you will begin to forget what you witnessed here and you will return to your old ways."


    Judas looked between Greeves and Dominus, looking unsure as to whether he should intervene. But by now he''d finally got a sense for the difference in strength between him and the old warrior and he dared not provoke him as quickly as he had before ¨C especially seeing what Beam had achieved and knowing that from the way people looked to him, Dominus was meant to be stronger even than that.


    Greeves didn''t grow any angrier at Dominus'' provocation and merely shrugged his shoulders, guessing that it was likely true. "Mm. Even I might get motivated if there were rewards in it, no? Perhaps, even after all my years in the business, there is room for me to change and grow as a merchant."


    Dominus tutted. "To have the line I was about to say dirtied by your merchant tongue¡­ Hah¡­ Forgive me boy," he said to Beam. "I should have turned him away from the start."


    Beam shrugged in his tiredness. "He''s wee to do what he wants."


    It was only then, in that brief lull in conversation that a tearful N was finally able to speak, sniffling all the while. She looked at Beam with round eyes full of relief and Beam looked at her, with a tired smile. "Sorry for not telling you," he said. "I didn''t want to worry you unnecessarily."


    "Idiot!" N shouted, pulling him away from Dominus into a hug. "We''re friends, aren''t we?" She mumbled into his shoulder. "You can''t leave me out of something like this¡­ I want to lecture you and tell you to never to do something like this ever again, to save my heart from the worry¡­ But I realized something watching you fight."


    "Hm? What?" Beam asked as she clung to him.


    "I realized that this is you, this is your world. How could it not be? For you to fight for so long and to grow so quickly during it ¨C you''re like a fish that''s finally found water," N said.


    The older men listened in. Dominus nodded in agreement, whilst Greeves tilted his head in understanding.


    "And from that, I think I know what I need to do now. So thank you. Thank you for surviving. And thank you for showing me what I was looking for," she said, offering him a pure smile.


    Beam stood there stunned in ce by the smile, not quite understanding. He knew not the effect that his battle had had upon the others. How his light had shone so strongly that it began to illuminate even the paths of mere observers.


    "You were right," she then said to Dominus. "He did have what I was looking for."


    Dominus scratched his head awkwardly. "Perhaps I might have said that¡­ But this wasn''t the oue I''d foreseen. Though in truth, the same might apply to me. After many long years of stagnation, I finally see just the glimmer of a path to greater strength¡­ How cruel the Gods are, to dangle such fruit in front of me, knowing that I do not have the time to seize it."


    But even with such a cruel fate ahead of him, he could not help but smile. A true smile, for the first time since Arthur had died. ''I''ve seen it atst, old friend. That which can subdue even the Gods. As we expected, such a sword is forged through suffering ¨C but if only we knew quite what that suffering entailed.''


    VOLUME 1 - PART 1 END

 Chapter 123: VOLUME ONE - PART 2: THE PROTECTOR OF SOLGRIM

    VOLUME ONE - PART 2: THE PROTECTOR OF SOLGRIM


    It took a full two days of rest before Beam awoke again after his battle, his body bruised and battered. He rolled out of his bed with a groan, his eyes struggling to adjust to the world around him. After a while, he finally recognized the familiar surroundings of Dominus'' campsite.


    Somehow, even though nothing about the campsite had changed, it looked different. Beam squinted, noting that the blurriness of his eyes that he''d felt duringbat was still there, albeit to a much lesser degree.


    His left eye was finally opened too now, though it was still swollen from the bruising and it hurt to touch.


    Aside from those bruises and the shallow cuts, as Beam stood, he felt better than he had in many weeks. The pain in his injured leg was almost entirely gone. It was merely the slightest of twinges now ¨C something that was very possible to ignore. And as he twisted the rest of his body round, he found only stiffness and a moderate pain.


    "Somehow, you managed to avoid stitches," Dominus said, noticing that he was up. "Quite the little miracle worker, aren''t you? You''ve got shallow cuts and bruises all over you, but nothing that won''t be fully healed up in a few days and nothing to truly hinder you."


    "Mm¡­" Beam nodded, looking at the scratches on his arms. They''d been tended to.


    "After you passed out on the field, that big oaf of a man, Judas, carried you all the way back to N''s house. Her and her mother tended to you again," Dominus said.


    "Ah¡­ So she knows that I fought a hobgoblin?" Beam asked with a grimace, expecting a telling off from her the next time they met.


    But Dominus shook his head. "I told N ¨C and the merchant and his guard ¨C that it wouldn''t benefit you to carelessly spread that information. There''s nothing to be gained from revealing your skills without reason. As you are now, you could still be easily snuffed out, should you attract the attention of anyone truly strong."


    "I suppose so," Beam said with a nod. "It would have been troublesome to have all the vigers talking to me about it as well. I suppose this leaves me more free to do as I want and get myself stronger."


    "Indeed. But whilst that is my own opinion, the only reason I forbid them from saying anything is I wished to leave the choice to you. You need not follow my advice on this. If you wish for the people to know your achievement ¨C and a remarkable feat it is too, then you may share it and Greeves, his guard and the girl they''ll all corroborate your story. I imagine that too will have its benefits.


    There will be greater opportunity for you, as people seek your help to deal with threats," Dominus told him.


    "Mm¡­ I still don''t really want to deal with too many people yet," Beam said. "And opportunity is just money, isn''t it? If I need money, I can just sell corpses to Greeves."


    "Beyond money. Nobility might hire you for military work. That would be an opportunity to make your way to the battlefield and hone your skills against the fellow man, should you choose to," Dominus told him.


    "I suppose I''ll want to do that, eventually. But there''s no way I''m leaving now, right when I''m about to pass these tests. You promised to make me your apprentice, after all," Beam said.


    Dominus smiled at that. "That I did. Though, you still have a few left to finish. You defeated the evolved hobgoblin ¨C congrattions. But you have yet to finish your quests with Greeves. There is still that corpse soldier.


    And you have yet toplete your strength test or your speed test."


    "Do I not have to do the unarmed test against Perth and his buddies as well?" Beam asked.


    Dominus chuckled at that. "Such a thing would not be a test ¨C it would be cruelty. You have far eclipsed the likes of them with your ying of the hobgoblin. There is no need to bully those weaker than you. I''ll consider your unarmed test passed."


    "Awh, I was kinda looking forward to settling the score with Perth," Beam grumbled.


    "Spare him," Dominus said. "You only have two days left until our agreed upon time period is over. Though, after your victory over that evolved hobgoblin, it does seem to me that thesest few tests are irrelevant. I''m half tempted to write them off."


    "Nah, I''ll pass them. I''m feeling much better than I was. Didn''t you set me the test of improving my reputation as well? How am I doing on that?"


    "I''ll consider that one passed too. I told you to make a friend as well ¨C and it would seem that N fits that criteria quite well. And as a result of yourmunity service work under Greeves, the vigers are viewing you far more positively than they were before.


    Rather than the scorn they showed you a month ago and the disgust, there''s indifference now and in some ces the slightest bit of friendliness," Dominus said.


    "Hey, wait, when you put it like that, it doesn''t sound good at all!" Beam protested.


    Dominusughed again. "Well, might be time to straighten out that crooked personality of yours and get yourself to being more likeable," Dominus said.


    "I don''t see you being overly friendly with the vigers," Beam grumbled.


    "No. But the difference between you and I is that I am not incapable of such things," Dominus said. "Besides, my time has passed. I did not have the qualities to be a leader. I spent many years isting myself, merely pursuing the sword. You need not share my weaknesses."


    "Ah," when Dominus put it like that, it was hard for Beam to protest. Even if he disliked dealing with people for now, he could not deny that there had been a great many benefits in him doing so. There were now far more options to be had should he need to solve any problems. There were far more people willing to help him. N''s face shed through his mind as he thought that.


    "Well, since I''ve only got a couple of days left, I may as well get started on the stones. I''m feeling much stronger than I have beentely."


    Dominus motioned with his hand. "Do as you please. Just don''t push yourself too much. You''ve been asking a lot of your bodytely."


    "It''ll be fine," Beam said, wandering up the stones, fighting to ignore the dizziness that had been bothering him since he awoke.


    He ignored the first stone this time and moved straight to the second, shifting it up to his chest with ease. It felt more like a stretching exercise than a strength one as he stretched out his sore muscles and groaned with relief. After toying with the second stone for a few minutes, he moved to the third.


    "Ah, that''s more like it," he said, lifting the third stone as though he were holding nothing more than a bundle of sticks. He hardly felt any strain on his body as he did so. He let out a relieved sigh. "Finally back to where I need to be, it seems."


    Dominus nodded. "Aye, it would seem the goddess of progress has taken a liking to you. Go on then, see how well you move the fourth stone."


    Beam did as he was told and rolled the fourth stone out. Its size was intimidating, especially after so long, and his heart pounded as he looked at it. He eyed it seriously, before squatting down, wrapping his arms around it and scooping it up.


    "Would you look at that," Dominus grinned.


    Beam shared the sameugh. It was exhrating. The fourth stone had moved with such effortlessness it was as though someone had hollowed it out overnight. In rapid session, he lifted it ten times, matching his previous all time best. By the time he was done, his breathing was only slightly quicker than normal.


    "That''ll do for today, I think," Dominus said. "It seems you couldfortablyplete the test now if you tried, but there''s no point rushing it. Allow your body to recover some more and savour the victory.


    "Savouring the victory does sound good," Beam grinned. "What about this speed test? You never did decide on a method for testing me."


    "True," Dominus nodded, putting a finger to his chin in thought. "Well, I suppose we can tie it up together with your ying of that corpse soldier. I''ll get you to run all the way there carrying the first, then fight the corpse soldier and sprint back before midday. Oh, and you''ll be setting off at dawn. So that gives you about two and a half hours to get the whole job done."


    "That seems like quite a long time. How far away is it?" Beam asked.


    "Mm, about ten miles west of here, on the ins," Dominus said.

 Chapter 124: The Fruit of Struggle - Part 2

    "Ten miles? Jeez. That might be pushing it," Beam said.


    But Dominus shrugged. "I offered earlier to let you skip over these tests, in light of your recent achievement ¨C it was you who said you''d finish them. So I supposed you must be feeling quite fit. Or are you going back on your word?"


    Beam frowned. "No¡­ I''ll do it. But it seems to me this battle with the corpse soldier is going to have to be plenty quick if I''m to make it back in time."


    Dominusughed at that. "A few minutes at most is how long normal people can afford to spend in mortalbat. I think you''ve skewed your own perspective by getting into a fight so long."


    Beam thought back to the battle. Most of it was a mere haze in his mind. There were specific instances that he remembered ¨C like the hobgoblin''s transformation and its death, but between those things, everything else blurred together in one big ball of suffering.


    "Speaking of which, I''d be interested to hear exactly what happened in that battle," Dominus said.


    "How do you mean, you were watching from the start, weren''t you?" Beam said.


    "Well, indeed I watched. But I meant from your perspective. Rarely in this long life of mine have I ever seen a victory won by allowing the enemy to turn its de against itself. And then there was that instance in the middle of it all too ¨C where you perched atop its sword.


    I''m aware that you''ve grown a little faster and stronger since then ¨C but such feats should still be beyond you," Dominus said, his eyes narrowed with interest.


    "Ah¡­ That. Well, just kind of after a bit, its movements got more obvious, you know? Did it not seem like that to you? ''Cos of how primitive they are in their thinking, it seems easy to predict what they''re about to do next," Beam said.


    "Not to that degree and not at the level you''re at. Indeed, it was still true for you for the majority of the fight, that whilst you were learning to read it, you didn''t have such an absolute understanding of it until the very end, until after it had evolved and grown faster. The point at which, for many, its movements would grow harder to read," Dominus told him.


    "Well, towards the end, it was because it was already showing fear before it had transformed, from then it was just over," Beam said, as though it was the most obvious thing in the world.


    But Dominus frowned at that. "Fear is likely to make an opponent even more erratic and harder to read. I''ve never heard anyone im that it helped them see through the enemy."


    Beam shrugged. "But it did, though. I dunno why. ''Cos of how many times it had battered me around, it made everything blurry and that,bined with it showing fear, made it easy to see through. It was basically just doing what it was told."


    "How interesting¡­" Dominus murmured. "Well, it would seem therein lies your own evolution. There''s likely a great power in there, if you follow it and develop it. Though as it stands at the moment, without you truly understanding it, it isn''t as useful as it could be.


    It might be that for you to get such an understanding of your enemy ¨C enough to see through them, that you''d need to do battle for hours every time. Or it might be that you''re never able to activate it again."


    "Guh. That would suck¡­ Especially after I put all that effort in," Beam said.


    "Whatever it is, it exists beyond my understanding, it is undoubtedly a skill that is exclusively yours. Tomorrow ¨C when you fight the corpse soldier ¨C will be an opportunity for you to understand it more and see how freely you are able to wield it. Aside from that, it seems to have nourished your physical attributes somewhat.


    Such rapid improvements borne over the course of a few hours ¨C those would not be possible by normal means, by the normal flow of progression."


    "Did I really get that much stronger? Aside from seeing through its movements towards the end, it felt like me and the hobgoblin were evenly matched," Beam said.


    "In that lies another peculiarity. A hobgoblin capable of growth like that is a rarity approaching an abomination. When you have passed these tests and rested yourself fully, it would be wise for you to look into the origins of this increased monster activity," Dominus said.


    Beam smiled, noting that from the way Dominus was speaking, it was as though the old knight assumed he would pass the tests already.


    "Have you not already been looking into them, master?" Beam asked instead, hiding his delight.


    "I have, and I have my own theories about what is going on¡­ But it would serve your growth better to pursue it. I suppose I can set it to you as an assignment, once you pass these tests and I acknowledge you as my apprentice," he mused. "For now, though, I suppose you may as well rest."


    "I should probably go and see N too," Beam said. "And I''d like to test my running out a bit before I attempt that test tomorrow."


    "Mm. You''re better off waiting for tomorrow to see N," Dominus told him. "She''s been rather busy since your fight. It seems the change you ignited in her was genuine and she''s set on pursuing different things. You''ll have to go and see Greeves as well, to confirm thepletion of your quests."


    "She is? Hm¡­" Beam listened to the news with some curiosity, but he decided to take his master''s advice anyway. "Then I suppose I''ll just go and run the ravine a few times to loosen myself up and then rest in the afternoon."


    Dominus nodded in agreement. "A fine n," he said.


    ¡­


    ¡­


    The next day, before the light of dawn broke and before the start of Beam''s test of speed, he lined up in front of the stones once more, with Dominus watching, sipping from a cup filled with tea.

 Chapter 125: The Fruit of Struggle - Part 3

    Already Beam had worked his way past the third stone and it felt just as easy as yesterday, perhaps even easier, after the extra rest. His running had gone well the previous day and he had managed to run across the ravine back and forth a total of five times without finding that he had overly taxed himself. The injury on his leg was now hardly a consideration.


    Beam powered through the fourth stone with a grunt. Once, twice, all the way up to ten times he lifted it. Adrenaline rushed through him as he felt the ease in which the heavy stone moved and he had to fight back the urge to shout in excitement. "That was easy again," he said mildly instead, not quite able to hide his full smile.


    "Indeed, it was. And now for the main event. A month''s worth of work. Are you ready?" Dominus asked.


    Beam nodded seriously, his heart pounding as he rolled the fifth stone out. It was truly a monstrous stone indeed. As it sat there in front of him, Beam could hardly imagine being able to wrap his arms around it.


    "Begin," came Dominus''mand and Beam squatted to pick up the stone anyway, despite his apprehension.


    His arms could not make it all the way around its massive surface, but it turned out that it did not matter, for he easily lifted it to his knee regardless and then dragged it all the way up to his chest.


    It was a shock on his system, the sheer weight of it. He could feel his muscles panic ¨C but the result remained, he managed to lift it.


    Dominus motioned for him to drop it. "Nine more to go," he said.


    And then Beam went at it for a second go, this time easier than the first, as he now knew what to expect from its weight. Up to his chest it went, before he was allowed to drop it once more. He jumped into the third lift even faster than before, trying to keep his rhythm. Up and down he went, all the way to ninth lift, when he first began to show signs of struggle.


    "And, ten. Done," Dominus said, as Beam''s legs shook and he heaved the stone up for a tenth lift.


    But Beam wasn''t done yet. He hadn''t truly pushed himself to his limits. Now that he was here, stronger than he ever had been, he wanted to reach the highest peak he possibly could. After all, over the course of this month, he''d learned that progress was nothing if not unpredictable. By the whimsy of the gods, obstacles could easily obstruct his path.


    There was no telling what sort of cmity would befall him in the future that might once more rob him of his strength. And so, after waiting a day already, he was not want to wait another day more.


    He lifted it again and again. Thirteen and then fourteen. The fourteenth was the toughest yet as the stone began to slip from his hands after its surface grew slicker with each lift and Beam''s grip weakened.


    But nevertheless, he attacked it once more and forced his body beyond its limits. With every muscle shaking, he just barely managed to lift it for fifteen, before dropping it to the ground in satisfaction.


    "Ever greedy," Dominus acknowledged, passing him a cup of tea. "Congrattions, you passed the strength test, despite everything. And you even exceeded the stated goal. Though I have to say, was it truly wise to push yourself all the way to breaking point when you have such an arduous morning ahead of you?"


    Beam grunted in acknowledgement as hey on the floor, getting his breath back. "It¡­ probably¡­ wasn''t the best move," he said. "But hopefully¡­ in a few minutes¡­ I''ll be recovered."


    "Hard to get that much energy back in just a few minutes, but good luck boy," Dominus said, before pointing with a finger at the sky. "Ah, it would seem dawn is breaking. Seems you''ve got even less than those few minutes."


    Beam squinted up at the sky as well, before he shot to his feet in a panic. "Oh, damn it! I better get started. It''s 10 miles to the west, right? On the ins? How far from the forest?"


    "Mm, about half a mile. I will run along ahead of you after I finish my drink. With me as a marker, I do not imagine you''ll miss it," Dominus said, ever rxed, despite Beam''s frantess.


    "Ah, gods. I better get going then," Beam said, starting to shift away.


    "Mm. Forgetting something?" Dominus said with a smile.


    "Huh? What? Oh, shit! I''ve got to carry the first stone as well, right?" Beam said, his eyes shooting open from the realization. He sprinted back over to where the stones were, collecting the first of them. It was somewhat light in his palm, but that was only whenpared to the other stones.


    Having to run with it was a different task entirely.


    "Indeed. Better get going then, daylight''s burning," Dominus said, clearly enjoying the whole affair. Beam bit back a harsh reply and instead started down the mountain path at a jog, clutching the stone in one arm.


    It was about the size of a person''s head, only much smoother. He could carry it in one hand ¨C at least for a time ¨C which made his job easier, but given that he had no bag to put it into, it was impossible to settle into afortable rhythm carrying it, for it hindered his natural running stride, forcing his weight towards whichever side he was holding the rock on.


    He tried resting it upon his upper back and running somewhat stooped over as his hands held it in ce, and indeed that made it so his running was less asymmetrical, but it didn''t really decrease the difficulty of the task.


    He sped over the uneven mountain trail, leaping across roots as he fiddled with the rock, trying to put it into different positions, testing to see if he could find an easier way of doing things.

 Chapter 126: The Fruit of Struggle - Part 4

    Only when he was halfway towards breaking towards the treeline did he hit upon the winning thought ¨C but he''d have to pause his run momentarily to put the idea into effect, making it somewhat of a gamble. He fought the decision over and over in his head, before finally growing sick of the stone enough that he came to a stop.


    He pulled his long-sleeved shirt off his body ¨C he hadn''t decided to wear a coat over the top of it, despite the cold, for he knew he''d quickly overheat when running ¨C and he wrapped the stone up in the cloth.


    Once it was wrapped up and secure, he took the long sleeves and ran them around his shoulders and under his armpits, tying them off on each arm, to make a somewhat morefortable backpack.


    "That''ll do," he decided, tighting it enough so that the stone would not bounce around too much on his back, given freedom by the flexibility of the cloth. But despite his efforts, any movement too explosive would send it bouncing anyway, making it bash ufortably into his back.


    Then there was were the straps too ¨C they weren''t particrlyfortable either, so even as he ran, he was cursing himself for not having a better idea, but at the very least, it beat carrying it in his arms, and after a while he soon learned how to move so that the rock would stay steady on his back and he broke out of the treeline.


    A hunter shed him a surprised look as Beam ran past, half naked but for his shirt-backpack that he''d made. Beam greeted the man with a nod, before rushing past him. He didn''t know what the man thought upon seeing such a sight ¨C but he could feel the eyes on his back as he broke away from the trees and headed west across the ins.


    Sweat was already beginning to coat his forehead and his breathing cameboured from his urgency. He nced up at the sky continually as he ran. The sun was going higher and higher, taunting him, telling him to speed up, and speed up he did, despite the difort.


    With the rock across his back as it was, the muscles supporting the weight quickly tired, as did his legs, but it was not an unendurable tiredness. It was merely the acknowledgement of difort, and the body''s insistence that he settle down to rest as soon as he was able.


    After his battle with the hobgoblin, it was much easier for him to ovee the difort than it had been in the past ¨C for what couldpare to the gruelling pain of maximal exertion for as long as he had endured it during his fight?


    And he could feel that he was faster still, even with the stone on his back. He watched as his surroundings flitted by and patches of harsh, acidic green grass were left far behind him. After a while ¨C maybe halfway through ¨C Beam guessed, the run almost approached being pleasant, as he tested his newfound capabilities, whilst doing his best to ignore the difort caused by the rock.


    Remembering that he didn''t have to run with the rock on the way back was a source of greatfort ¨C he resolved to run even faster then, and see just how much he had improved. For now, though, he continued to tear up the ground, his feet flexingfortably with each stride and his runninging far more naturally to him than it had in the past.


    After nearly an hour of running, he saw a dark figure in the distance, standing out against a sea of green and yellow grasses. Beam ran towards it, the shape growing ever more familiar as he approached, the strawhat standing out above all.


    As he neared, he could see a second figure beyond Dominus, lumbering about in a mad defiance of death, as it dragged a harsh battleaxe along the ground behind it.


    "Gah, so that''s a corpse soldier," Beam said, slowing to a halt at Dominus'' side, putting his hands to his knees as he recovered his breath. "It''s strong," he noted, feeling its menacing aura.


    "Indeed, it is," Dominus agreed. "Here''s your sword." He handed Beam the de that he had forgotten to bring, the same one that Greeves had given him to y the hobgoblin.


    "Thanks," Beam took it, as he freed himself from the stone on his back, allowing it to drop to the ground as he pulled his shirt back on. He carefully drew his de from its sheath, admiring it. It had taken a fair bit of work after his battle to restore the sword to its former glory, what with the chips on the de.


    But with a file, a whetstone and a good amount of effort, it was back to its former simple but deadly glory.


    He took a few more moments then, to recover his breath, continuing to watch the corpse soldier from a distance. It was arge man ¨C or at least, once it was. Now it was a lumbering skeleton, with a ckened skull and blue fire in its eyes, its dead skin peeling from its face. Its torn fur clothes struggled to hide the rotting flesh beneath.


    "A Yarmdon man," Dominus told him, as he noticed Beam''s curious gaze. "Likely one of those who fell from the spring raiding attacks."


    "Hmm¡­ I would have thought they''d be more of them. The spring raids are always a bloody affair, aren''t they?" Beam said.


    "Well, there likely are, since they are mindless creatures, they tend to wander a great distance, looking for warm flesh. But their senses aren''t particrly good. As long as you stay a few hundred feet away from them, they won''t notice you. Also, the people, knowing how corpse soldiers are birthed, are liable to go to lengths to avoid their creation.


    Only those buried on unblessed ground have a chance of being afflicted with the goddess'' curse ¨C but even then, it''s a dice roll," Dominus said.


    "Sounds troublesome," Beam mused. "If someone really strong happened to be a corpse soldier, we''d be in trouble, wouldn''t we?"


    Dominus shook his head. "No. The curse, in its normal form, is not particrly powerful. The truly strong would be unaffected by it. Still, the fact remains, that even if the weak get reanimated, they''re much stronger than they were in life."

 Chapter 127: The Fruit of Struggle - Part 5

    They''ll still die by normal means though, right?" Beam said, twirling his sword in his hand, having recovered his breath.


    "The curse resides in its head. Severing it will not be enough ¨C you have to crush the skull entirely, so that the foulness has no ce to remain," Dominus told him.


    "Alright," Beam said, sucking in onest deep breath, before he began walking towards it.


    "Explore that skill of yours some more, whilst you''re at it," Dominus called after him.


    Beam nodded in return, picking his pace up to a jog as he covered the distance remaining between him and the corpse soldier. He had to get far closer than he''d expected before the ghoul finally twitched its head robotically, noticing him, letting loose a ghostly scream from a throat that clearly had a hole punched through it.


    Beam settled into a fighting stance with both his hands on the hilt of his de, struggling to calm his beating heart. The corpse soldier dragged its two handed battle axe with one arm through the dirt behind it, as it slowly lumbered towards Beam.


    Its slow movements almost lured Beam into rxing, but once it was in range, its speed changed entirely. With just a single arm, it hefted its mighty battle axe in a sh, sending it crashing towards Beam before he barely registered what was happening.


    "Woah!" Beam shouted in surprise as he leapt back, clear of the blow. The axended hard in the dirt, sending up a cloud of soil as it did.


    "It''s definitely strong," Beam acknowledged. It was certainly a beast that would have been worthy of his final test, had he not already in the evolved hobgoblin. He could see why ordinary men would struggle with it, despite itsck of walking speed, its attack speed was still deadly and its strength was something else, on par with a normal hobgoblin at least, or perhaps surpassing it.


    Fear started to thread its way through Beam''s veins as he realized that. One false move, and the corpse soldier would split him in half. Even with his victory over the hobgoblin, that fear had still not faded. But, he knew how to deal with it now. It was bing familiar ¨C a mere consequence of the fight.


    And with the fear he started to remember what he''d felt before, as he was in the throes of mortalbat with an enemy that far surpassed him.


    There was that feeling of disconnect, of shattered reality. When he stopped focusing on suppressing his dizziness, the world blurred heavily, to the point of nausea.


    Another axe blow came towards him,ing up from his feet and cutting towards his head. Beam was already beginning to find that troublesome ¨C how its attacks always began from beneath him, as the corpse soldier allowed its weapon to return to the floor after every attack.


    With the blurriness, there came the slightest of slowing in the corpse soldier''s movements, enough that Beam could easily move past the strike before it became a threat. As the axe came up past his shins, rising towards his shoulder, he ducked and attacked what was nearest to it ¨C the creature''s arm.


    A metallic ring rang out, and a vibration ran up Beam''s arms from the impact.


    The reason was revealed a momentter, as the fur sleeve that had been covering the corpse soldier''s arm fell away, revealing steel braces, protecting its forearm.


    The corpse soldier did not allow him time to recover from his shock. It was on him immediately, swinging its giant axe towards him. Beam tracked it and dodged just enough that it flew past him ¨C he was making a conscious effort not to use his sword to block when he didn''t have to, for fear of chipping the de once more and having to fix it.


    But as that strike sailed over Beam''s shoulder, the corpse soldier didn''t allow the axe to fall to the floor again this time. Instead, with the blue me in its eye sockets burning with rage, it kept the attack up and slid another hand onto the shaft of its weapon, swinging it even harder now, towards Beam''s side.


    Caught off bnce, Beam was forced to use his sword to deflect it. But where that strike ended, another strike immediately followed. With two hands on its weapon, not only was it stronger, but it was faster too. The corpse soldier bellowed with each strike, the remains of its wispy ck beard swaying with its movements.


    In that fast-paced battle, Beamfortably held his ground, realizing that he was taking too long. Already, he was settling into the rhythm of endurance, the same rhythm that he''d settled into with the hobgoblin.


    As the fight went on, its movements only grew more erratic and harder to track. Beam''s eyes managed to keep up with them, but only barely.


    Beam grit his teeth, putting more strength into his deflection this time, sending the axe off to his side and forcing the corpse soldier off bnce with it.


    That instant was all Beam needed now. He was faster than he''d ever been before, and stronger too. He closed the distance between them in a second, acknowledging what he thought to be surprise burning in the ming eyes of his enemy. And then he swung, quickly and efficiently, cutting its head from its body.


    The skull of the massive Yarmdon mannded with a thud, but its body did not copse as a result, nor did its movements even slow. Instead, the jaw of the severed head opened wide, and it gave a ghoulish scream, ordering its body to rescue it.


    "Damn it," Beam cursed, as an axe was raised up behind him. He dove forward into a roll, towards where the head hadnded. Using that extra momentum, as soon as he came back to his feet, he swung his sword down on top of it, shattering the skull into pieces.


    With that, it was as though he had cut a string. The reaction was instant ¨C the body behind him copsed straight to the floor, and the skull in front of him let loose a dark cloud, along with a whisper ¨C both of which faded after a moment.

 Chapter 128: The Fruit of Struggle - Part 6

    "Hah¡­" Beam gave a sigh of relief as he sat on the floor.


    "Ah, good. I thought I was going to have to wait another hour before you finally settled into your rhythm. It seems even you can settle things quickly if you put your mind to it," Dominus teased as he drew up next to him.


    "That was tough," Beam said as he looked upon the corpse.


    "I''d imagine so. In the end, it was merely your superior speed and strength that settled it. Were you unable to tap into the skill you used against the hobgoblin?" Dominus asked.


    Beam shook his head. "No¡­ I mean, it seemed kind of slow. Its movements were blurry, but I can''t tell if that''s real or not, since the whole world has been blurry for the past couple of days. If I don''t concentrate, I get pretty damn dizzy."


    Dominus raised an eyebrow. "That''s the first I''m hearing of this. Those are certainly not good symptoms, especially given the severity of your fight the other day. They could be the signs of something more serious."


    "Maybe¡­" Beam agreed. "It was pretty bad yesterday, as I was trying to get to sleep. Felt like the whole world was saying underneath me."


    "Hm¡­" Dominus studied him with narrowed eyes. "That''s something we''ll have to keep an eye on. Let me know if it gets worse."


    Beam nodded. "I will¡­ But I guess I wasn''t able to use that skill after all, huh? I wonder if it''s like you said, and maybe it was just a one time thing, because of the circumstances of the day."


    "Maybe," Dominus said, but he sounded unconvinced. "Though I do not think that to be likely. Your rapid growth during that battle had to have been supported by something ¨C my only issue is whether you can manifest that same something again. What do you think was missing this time?"


    Beam tilted his head as he considered it. "Well¡­ I dunno. I guess maybe, this time, it didn''t feel like I was fighting another creature. It felt more just like cutting down a tree."


    "Ah, you mean itcked soul?" Dominus said, putting a finger to his chin in consideration. "That''s interesting¡­ Indeed corpse soldiers are just that ¨C mere corpses. Inrge part, their soul has already moved only. Only the tiniest fraction remains, the part fuelled by resentment and lingering attachment. That part is then built into something more artificial using the goddess'' curse as filler."


    "Right, right! That''s it!" Beam said, his brain shing with realization. "It felt like, no matter how hard I fought it, there was no will for me to ovee, because it didn''t have one itself. It didn''t really feel like much of a duel."


    "Hm¡­." Dominus fell into thought again. "Well, whilst interesting, I believe we should put such conversation on hold for now. The sun is rising ever higher in the sky."


    Beam nced upwards at his pointing, noting just how high the sun had gotten. "Oh! Gods! I''ve barely got an hour left. I better get running then. Do I need to go all the way back to the campsite?


    Oh, and what should I take to show Greeves that the corpse soldier has been in?"


    "You don''t need to take anything. That merchant already believes in the value of your word by now. If you say it''s in, he will not press you on it. And no, you need not go as far as the campsite. Merely make it to the edge of the forest by the vige before midday and I''ll consider this test passed."


    "Got it!" Beam said, as he sheathed his sword once more and handed it to Dominus, before dashing away as quickly as he could.


    The feeling of freedom as he ran was immense, now that he had been freed from the burden that the stone posed. He was able to stand up straighter and fill his lungs more easily with air, without its weight pressing down on his back. But more than all that, he could finally taste his speed, the rewards of his struggle.


    He tore up the ground like a deer, as the wind rushed past him, sending his short hair flying up above his head. He couldn''t help butugh in jubtion as he picked up yet more speed. It was the same exhtion he''d felt as a child ¨C the knowledge that he now stood closer to the top of the mountain. That this speed was indeed, once more, something special.


    That his strength has finally progressed to go along with it.


    Even as his lungs burned, he did not slow, merely continuing to race, pounding through the long grass of the vast ins, the autumn sky blue overhead and the sun warming his back as he ran.


    ''Finally,'' he thought to himself, enjoying that speed. He clenched his fist. ''Finally.'' He said again. ''With this, there was finally progress. With this, I pass all my tests and the change I''ve been looking for finallyes storming in.''


    As he thought such a thing, he came to a realization ¨C the change had indeed already began. A quick reflection on the events of the past weeks confirmed that thought readily. All those years of stagnation, all those years of mere survival ¨C he finally had something to show for them and in just the span of a month too.


    Monsters that previously would have been able to kill him on sight ¨C he was now able to best them. A mere month ago, goblins had posed a problem, and yet now, he''d ovee the peak of all hobgoblins ¨C an evolved specimen. Not only that, with mere physical prowess, he was able tofortably overwhelm a corpse soldier, an enemy that of everyone in the vige, only Judas could hope to match.


    It was not only his victories that excited him, though ¨C it was the promise of future potential. The realization that he could fly higher still, that his road was still far from over.


    With such pleasant thoughts on his mind, his run concluded pleasantly. He came to a halt on the path that led from the vige to the forest, putting his hands on his knees to recover his breath.

 Chapter 129: The Fruit of Struggle - Part 7

    Dominus was already waiting. Beam smiled to see it. The old knight was living proof that there were far greater heights to reach. Even with Beam''s new speed, pushing his body to the very limits, Dominus had still easily overtaken him. He was sitting down upon a fallen tree, drinking water from his sk, looking at though he had been sat there a while.


    Upon seeing him, Dominus nced up at the sky. Beam nced up too. The sun was high indeed, nearly at its highest point ¨C but not quite.


    "Mhm, well, it would seem that you made it," the old knight said in acknowledgement. "You''ve passed the rest of your tests ¨C congrattions." He worked his way to his feet with a sigh as he said those words. "Since you''ve kept your end of the bargain and seeded in the tasks I set you¡­ I suppose now it''s finally time for me to do the same."


    Beam nodded seriously, struggling to keep the smile off his face.


    "But I warn you boy ¨C things will only grow tougher for you from here. A knight''s apprentice is a position of the utmost seriousness. More than a few knight''s apprentices die in training ¨C such is the honour of the position. The kingdom cannot afford to allow the ipetent to make it into the ranks of its elite. Despite that, are you sure this is what you want?"


    "It is," Beam said firmly. "I want to get stronger still ¨C I need to. The distance between you and I is still far too great."


    Dominus raised an eyebrow at that. "Oh, so it''s me you''repeting with now?" He said, before reaching out to flick Beam''s forehead. "Don''t get so cocky, boy. It''ll be many years before you can catch a glimpse of my shadow."


    Beam rubbed his forehead from the pain of the flick, but he smiled anyway. "I''ll have to catch up regardless. I''m going to y the Pandora Goblin after all, aren''t I?"


    Finally, Dominus'' own lips broke into a smile at that. "Aye¡­ I suppose you are. Well, with that, I''ll make you my apprentice. Your duties begin tomorrow. Take the afternoon off and do with it what you will. I''d rmend collecting your coin from Greeves whilst you have the chance though ¨C if you leave it too long that merchant will probably hope that you''ve forgotten about it."


    "Right!" Beam said excitedly, his energy high, despite the arduous morning that he had endured. "I''ll be off then!"


    "Go on then. Finally leave an old man with his peace," Dominus said, waving him away with a motion of his wrist.


    Beam went into the vige at a jog, unable to move slowly now, from his taste of true speed and his body filled with excitement. His first destination was N''s house ¨C he wanted to thank her and her mother for tending to him whilst he was unconscious.


    He gave a knock on a door that was now growing familiar, and it was answered a momentter, seemingly by an invisible force, for once it was open, there was no one standing there. That was, not until he looked down and he saw N''s little sister Stephanie, standing on her tippy-toes as she reached for the handle. She was looking at him with big, round, curious eyes.


    "Hello¡­" he said awkwardly as she stared at him. "Uhm, is N in?"


    Instead of a response, all he got was a shake of her head, as she tossed her blond pig tails to and fro with the rigorous movement. Apparently curious about what was going on, her twin brother David came to the door a momentter, his eyes lighting up upon seeing Beam.


    "Oh! More wood!" He shouted in delight.


    But it was Beam''s turn to shake his head this time. "Sorry. I don''t have wood with me today. Is N in?"


    "Mm¡­ Nope!" David dered after thinking about it for a moment, not looking too disappointed about theck of wood despite his earlier excitement.


    Just as Beam was beginning to grow exasperated, N''s mother made her way to the door. She, just like her children, had a simrly animated reaction as she noticed him. Her eyes softened and her mouth widened into a smile. It seemed expressiveness ran in the family.


    "Hi, Miss Felder," Beam said, a little awkwardly, still unused to speaking politely. "I just wanted toe by to say thank you for tending to me the other day. Is N in too?"


    "My, you''re most wee ¨C you''ve helped us out so much as ofte, it''s only natural that we''d return the favour. Though I do wish that you''d look after yourself a bit more. N said it was goblins again? You''re a brave boy, aren''t you? But you musn''t push yourself too much ¨C you''ve only just recovered your leg, you were lucky not to be injured more," she said.


    Beam nodded in agreement, her worry warming his heart. He noted that N had kept her promise to Dominus, about not revealing the true extent of his battle the other day, and he found himself once more grateful for that. He didn''t know how he''d be able to exin voluntarily confronting a hobgoblin in the state he was in. "I''ll be more careful.


    I''m feeling a little strongertely, so hopefully that means I won''t be getting injured as much for a while."


    But N''s mother sighed at that. "That just worries me even more. Knowing you boys, you''ll be out the second you get the chance to prove your strength¡­ Ah, but you were here for N, weren''t you? She isn''t in at the moment, but I expect if you head over to the marketce you''ll be able to find her.


    She made a big fuss when she carried you back the other day ¨C said she was finally going to go all the way with her hunting. She''s rarely been inside since."


    "Got it, I''ll check the marketce," Beam said with a nod ¨C he''d nned to go over there anyway, since had had to pick up his quest rewards from Greeves.

 Chapter 130: The Fruit of Struggle - Part 8

    "Make sure she''s doing okay if you see her, won''t you? Since she''s been inside so little, I''m worried that she''s been skipping meals. Ah, if I give you some food, will you be able to get it to her?" N''s mother asked, sping her hands together as she came up with the idea, only for her brow to furrow immediately after.


    "Ah¡­ but I shouldn''t be asking you to go out of your way ¨C you''re probably busy too, right?"


    "Naw, it''s okay," Beam reassured her. "I''ve got the rest of the day off, so I''m in no rush to do anything, really. If you want me to deliver her some food, I can make sure it gets to her."


    "Really? You''re such a sweetie. Okay! I''ll be back in a sh," she said, before rushing back into the house, with David and Stephanie trailing after her. Beam heard the ng of pots, and then, a few momentster, just as she said, she was back, handing a wooden lunchbox out to Beam. "There you go ¨C thank you so much!"


    "No worries. I''ll be going now then," Beam said.


    "Bye! Take care, Beam!" Miss Felder waved after him.


    "Bye bye!" David and Stephanie said, copying her.


    Beam waved back, before turning on his heel, carrying the weighty lunch box and jogging towards the vige center. Now, as he passed the vigers, they didn''t shoot him the same disquieted looks that they''d shot him before. Instead, just as his master had said, he was mostly met with indifference.


    Yet, amongst that indifference, there were also some of the people that Greeves'' quests had made him help ¨C and those people nodded to him in greeting, some even calling out with a friendly wave, and to them Beam waved back with a smile, before speeding on with N''s lunch.


    He skidded around the corner, catching sight of the bakery''s sign as he passed. Seeing that, he was struck by the urge to eat something pleasant in celebration. And so he decided, once he''d collected his reward from Greeves, he''d finally try one of the sweet cakes that he''d been eyeing for years, without the leeway to buy them with his meagre funds as a digger.


    Upon agreeing to take N''s lunchbox, Beam had begun to worry if he''d even be able to find her, scolding himself for agreeing so quickly. For, it could be that she was in the woods, hunting. There was no guarantee at all that she''d be in the marketce, despite her mother''s words.


    But there was no reason for him to have worried, for even from a distance, amongst a crowd of many, her red hair and her tiny frame stood out, as she stood arguing with three stocky men whilst furiously pointing in animated discussion.


    Cautiously, Beam approached.


    As he neared, he began to hear snippets of the conversation.


    "What do you mean I didn''t kill the deer myself? Is it really that hard to believe? I paid them both 3 coppers each to help me carry it back! Why are you two just standing there not saying anything? You''re the ones that saw me do it, and I paid you to help me too!" N fumed.


    "Calm down littledy," a bald man with a thick moustache said, motioning with his hands at her condescendingly. From his stocky build, the cleaver in his hand and all the meat around his stall, Beam could tell that he was a butcher. "I''m not saying you didn''t take down the deer yourself, n'' I can understand ya being all proud if ya did ¨C but see I''ve got a deal going here.


    I''ve got a few hunters that I''ve got agreements with, n'' in return for me exclusively buying their meat, they consistently bring me stuff ¨C it keeps us all on an even keel, keeps business consistent."


    "What, so you''re just going to let a prime deer rot because of that? Look how fat it is! Winter''s only a couple of weeks away, and you''re telling me you don''t want all this meat? People are buying food like mad! You''re crazy to turn this down. I''m only asking for 5 silvers, and the whole things yours ¨C that''s cheaper than what they sell to you, right?" N said hotly.


    The two men that she''d pointed at earlier ¨C hunters, both of them, it seemed, from the bows slung over their shoulder ¨C stood there awkwardly as they got involved in an argument they wanted no part in.


    "5 silvers, you say?" That seemed to catch the butcher''s attention. "Aye, that''s a good price¡­ A price that catches my interest ¨C but I can''t sacrifice the future for a present. If I start buying from people I don''t have an agreement with, it''s gonna upset the whole apple cart. You''re not gonna be able to consistently bring me goods, are ya?" He said.


    "What, because I''m a girl?" N fumed.


    The man shook his head. "Naw. Because you couldn''t take care of the corpse yerself. You had to pay these two to drag it back for yer, didn''t ya? Ya not gonna be able to keep that up, I can tell from the look of you. ''Sides, what''s a youngss like you doing being able to throw around 6 coppers without blinking?"


    "Are you two really not going to help me out here?" N said, ring at the men that she''d paid earlier. "You both saw me bring back a fox and a rabbit to market yesterday, didn''t you? If I was really such an inconsistent hunter, would I really be able to make such big catches two days in a row?"


    "I mean¡­ aye¡­ I guess we did," one of them said. Beam smiled, as he watched from a distance away. The man was at least in his thirties, and yet he couldn''t stand up to N''s fire ¨C he was already looking to the floor, cowering, doing as she told him to.


    "Oh?" The butcher seemed interested in that. "N'' who''d you end up selling that fox and rabbit to?"


    N pointed at another butcher across the way, who was busy doing business with an old woman. Both N and the butcher looked at him. He nodded in return, before returning to what he was doing.

 Chapter 131: The Fruit of Struggle - Part 9

    "Mm. Does seem like he knows ya. Why''d you not bring this deer to him then, if he was buying your work yesterday?" The butcher asked.


    "''Cos he said the same thing as you ¨C he said he can''t take anymore meat off me for fear of upsetting the other hunters that he''s got agreements with. But let me ask you this, are you really getting enough meat off these hunters? You could process way more than this, couldn''t you? I saw you standing around yesterday, waiting for customers ¨C you didn''t have anything to butcher," N said.


    The butcher twitched his nose at that. "There''s more factors to it than simple profit, littless. I can see you''re serious about this. Might even be that yer a halfway decent hunter. But just flooding the market with meat, out hunting everyone ¨C that''s not gonna get you anywhere. All yer gonna do is piss off the hunters at work.


    They''ll startining that you''re cleaning up the forest, n'' they''ll make it so the other butcher''s want nothing to do with ya."


    "What!? Just because they''re worse hunters?" She shot a pointed nce at the two hunters standing next to, as though using them both of the same thing. They both froze up under her re. "How much do you two manage to catch each day?"


    "Mm¡­ Not really a daily thing, more of a weekly thing," one of them said, scratching the hair on his head. "We set up a few snares and that, a few traps. Maybe get a few squirrel, couple of rabbits, n'' if we''re lucky we''ll catch something with an arrow too."


    "That''s it?!" N shouted in disbelief. The two men hung their heads, one of their eyebrows twitching in anger. "What about this then?" she said, turning to the butcher. "You go into an agreement with the three of us. We''ll get you more meat, more cheaply, and it''ll be more consistent. That''ll be better, won''t it?


    Then people won''t be able to me it all on me, ''cos they''ll think it''s the three of us doing the hunting."


    "Hang on," one of the hunter''s said as he stood there. "What''s in this for me?"


    N sighed, exasperated. "The same thing that was in it for you today ¨C I''ll pay you to help me carry my kills, and, on top of that, I''ll give you both a tenth of the profits I get from selling the meat. That on top of your own kills for the week ¨C you''ll be earning a fair bit more, won''t you? And with hardly any extra effort."


    Despite the insults to their pride, the two men more than interested in the deal. One of them scratched his beard as he thought about it. "But how much money do you have, girlie? If you ain''t as good a hunter as you im to be, this''ll all fall through in a week or two, and you''ll have gotten our hopes up for nothing."


    "Do you lose anything if that happens? You''ll have two weeks of extra coin, and you''ll be able to judge for yourself whether it''ll work out or not by watching me hunt, won''t you?" N pointed out.


    "¡­True," the man said, and his friend nodded along with him.


    "Mm¡­ yer beginning to sell me a bit on this,ss," the butcher said, as he put his hand atop his bald head in thought. "Tell you what, you give me this deer for 4 silver, n'' if you can get me two more deer in the next two weeks, I''ll keep you on. In the meantime, bring me as much meat as yer can, an'' we''ll see what you''re made of," the butcher said.


    "Yes!" N shouted, pumping her fist. "Alright, you two, you''re meeting me outside the forest at dawn tomorrow ¨C if you''rete, I won''t pay you," she told them.


    They nodded together with a slight wince, bothered about being bossed around by a girl half their age, but enticed by the money nheless.


    As they talked, Beam made eye contact with Judas across the square. The big man noticed him and nodded respectfully.


    Beam strolled over now that the negotiations were done. "Reckon you can trust them?" He asked.


    Four pairs of eyes settled on him as he suddenly spoke. N saw him, and her face widened into a smile. "Ah! Beam!" She said, waving to him. "What are you doing over here? Is Greeves sending you on more monster hunting quests?"


    The butcher and the two hunters widened their eyes at that line. Not a single person in the vige willingly went out to hunt monsters ¨C not as a profession, it was far too dangerous. Such a thing would only be found in the city, amongst poptions of thousands, where strong people were more likely to appear.


    They noted his appearance, with the fresh cuts and bruises on his face,plete with several scars on his neck. By his appearance, such a profession certainly checked out.


    "Ah, no. Your mother asked me to bring you this, and to make sure you''re doing alright," Beam said, handing her the box.


    She took it, sighing in exasperation. "Hah¡­ She didn''t have to. I don''t need you to look after me. Though, I guess I am hungry."


    It was then that Judas chose toe striding over, forcing the two hunters apart as he stepped through them. They reeled back in fear, even the butcher looked intimidated. And yet, to Beam, this giant of a man spoke with the utmost of respect.


    "Sorry for interrupting,d. Didn''t know whether you were calling me over with that look you gave me," Judas said, speaking far more timidly than Beam had ever heard him speak before.


    The hunters and the butcher looked like their eyes might bulge out of their head as they saw that from Judas. A man notorious for his violence and his thuggishness, choosing to be polite to a boy that he towered over.


    "Naw, I was just making sure that this lot weren''t taking advantage of N," Beam said.


    With those words, Judas'' intimidating aura intensified, as he turned and towered over the hunters. "They better not be."

 Chapter 132: The Fruit of Struggle - Part 10

    N got between them. "They''re not! What''re you two doing interrupting, anyway? Are you just here to scare my business partners?"


    "Business partners?" Judas repeated with a sniff. "I don''t like the look of them. You sure you want to be doing business with this lot?"


    "Quite sure, thank you!" N said, trying and failing to shove him away, before hopelessly turning to Beam. "Can''t you get rid of him? He''s just scaring everyone."


    Beam shrugged. "Judas, I''lle over to see Greeves in a minute."


    "Alright. But if you have any bother, ya don''t need to dirty your hands with it. Boss'' orders ¨C gotta keep our young associate happy," Judas said with a toothy grin as he shoved his way back through the crowd.


    N sighed again, watching him go. "Uhm¡­ Sorry about that," she said.


    The butcher looked as white as a ghost. "My apologies, girl¡­ I didn''t realize you were associated with Greeves. I wouldn''t have been so rude had I known¡­"


    He sounded genuinely terrified as he said that. A sign of Greeves'' ruthless reputation amongst fellow merchants, especially those of lower status, like the butcher.


    "I''m not," N protested. "I''ve only met him once. It''s him that''s associated with Greeves."


    Beam didn''t deny it, even if he didn''t like the title, it was useful. The only reason he''de over in the first ce was to ensure that none of the men that N had gone out of her way to work with would take advantage of her. She needed stout allies to support her. And even though he knew it was meddlesome, he figured a little bit of fear would go a long way.


    The eyes rested on Beam once again. "My apologies," he said.


    "And now everyone''s scared of you too¡­" N noted in exasperation. "I''m going to finish up here, Beam. Are you off to see Greeves? I''ll wait for you and we can talk afterwards."


    "Sure," Beam said with a smile.


    As he strolled away, he heard N''s voice from behind him.


    "What''re you all standing there like statues for? Is it just because of Greeves? Like I said, I have nothing to do with him. No one''s going to hurt you," she said.


    "Thanks for that," Beam said as he once more rejoined Judas outside of Greeves'' house.


    Judas just shrugged. "I saw the littless doing business, n'' I was rooting for her a bit, y''know? And when I saw you go over, I figured ya were going for a bit of intimidation, to make sure she''s kept safe. You might not like him, but the boss'' name does carry a lot of weight."


    "So does yours, apparently," Beam said. "Just what kind of madness have you been up to that everyone is so scared of you?"


    "Ay, I woulda thought you knew better than everyone else what it took to be an outcast," Judas said good-naturedly. Beam noted the wariness in his eyes as he spoke though, as though he was deathly afraid of upsetting him.


    "Anyway, should we go in?" Beam said, sticking a foot up on the step.


    "Ah, I shouted in a minute ago and the boss said he was a bit, y''know, busy?" Judas said awkwardly.


    "Busy? He''s meeting with someone? Then I''ll go in a wait ¨C it should hurry him up," Beam said, opening the door himself and stepping inside.


    "Shit ¨C wait a second! Ah. Boss! The kid''s here!" Judas ran after him in a panic and hurriedly shouted out to Greeves.


    Beam raised an eyebrow at the reaction, but Judas avoided meeting his gaze. As Beam walked through the house, he heard frantic movementsing from Beam''s office, as footsteps rushed around to aplish some sort of task.


    Just when Beam was about to grab the door handle, the door flung itself open, almost hitting him in the face, followed by a wave ofvender perfume.


    A woman, wearing nothing save for a Greeves'' robe that she clutched in front of her like a towel, ran out with a giggle. Her painted red lips curled into a seductive smile as she caught sight of Beam. "Ohhhh¡­ Is this the boy?" She asked Judas, apparently in no hurry, despite the state of her undress.


    "C''mon Vivanne leave him be. Yer hardly dressed," Judas said.


    "My, but I haven''t done anything, have I? Besides, he doesn''t seem to mind," she said, pinning Beam in ce with another one of her smiles.


    Beam turned to Judas, ignoring the woman. "¡­Can I take this to mean the meeting is over?" He asked.


    Judas grimaced awkwardly. "Aye, probably¡­ I''ll just go and make sure the boss is dressed." He walked to the door, before turning round and noticing that Vivanne was making no attempt to leave. He tutted. "Vivanne, get going I said. You know you''re not meant to be here when the boss is discussing business."


    "As grumpy as ever, isn''t he?" She said, speaking instead to Beam. "I had better get going. But it was nice meeting you, sweetie. I hope to see you again."


    And then she walked away with a feminine strut, the shining ck curls of her hair bouncing on her unclothed back as she walked. A momentter, Beam heard the patter of bare feet ascending the wooden stairs.


    "You cane in now," Judas told him.


    Hesitantly, Beam stepped inside, expecting things to be much more of a mess than they were. Instead, the only thing different was a slightly sweatier Greeves than normal, as he downed a ss of red wine, a satisfied look on his face.


    Beam was unable to hide his irritated expression as he sat down. Greeves burst outughing upon seeing it.


    "Seems like no matter how hard I try, things between you and I are always going to be difficult, aren''t they boy? You caught me at the worst possible time. Normally ¨C you might not believe it ¨C but I wouldn''t be whoring during the day. Such things ruin the mind for business. But there are times when you just got to get it out of yer system, y''know? And that Vivanne is a charmer.


    Knows how to get you excited and then settle you down again," Greeves said.

 Chapter 133: The Fruit of Struggle - Part 11

    "I''m here for coin," Beam said bluntly, making it clear that he had no interest in Greeves'' sex life.


    "That you are ¨C and I think you''ll like what you find," Greeves said with a grin, reaching into one of his drawers and tossing Beam a pouch filled with coins. "Have a look inside."


    Beam did as he was told. Inside, there sat 10 gleaming gold coins. He gasped in surprise.


    "Haha!" Greeves roared withughter again. "That caught your attention, eh? Money talks, as they say. Is that your first time seeing gold,d?"


    Beam nodded dumbly, absolutely blown away by the sight of the shining metal. Just a month ago, he''d never held a metal worth more than copper. Even silver had been a great and exciting privilege. Now, beyond his expectations, he was given gold. Not one, but ten of them.


    "But it''s so much¡­" He said.


    Greeves shared a look of surprise with Judas. The big manughed as well. "That''s the first time in all my career as a merchant that I''ve ever heard someonein about being paid too much."


    "I''m notining¡­" Beam said.


    "I''d expect not. Well, anyway. That hobgoblin sword sold for a pretty penny¡­ and then the corpse on top of that ¨C well, let''s just say, you''ve more than cleared the red from my ount books. And so, to celebrate a job well done, and tomemorate the finishing of yer quests, I''ll give you a nice 10 gold to enjoy," Greeves said.


    "You already knew that I''d in the corpse soldier?" Beam said in surprise.


    Greeves just shrugged. "I figured it was just a matter of time. There''s no way a corpse soldier would pose a problem for you, not after that disy the other day."


    "Mm. So my work for you is done then, is it?" Beam asked.


    "It is¡­" Greeves said cautiously, "but I would rather it not be."


    "And why is that?"


    "Well, obviously because yer so fricken strong, kid. You''ve got the kind of strength that I''d bet rivals some of those knights from the city. We''d be able to aplish great things together, wouldn''t we?" Greeves said. "And there''d be a lot of money in it too. You like that coin there? I can promise you a hundred in a year, easy."


    "I''m not interested in your underworld dealings," Beam said. "You were quick to threaten N when things weren''t going your way. Do you really think I''d jump back into business with you, knowing your morals?"


    "Well¡­ I can see why you might say that," Greeves said, nodding. "But see, it''s moreplicated than a kid like you thinks. You don''t know the true darkness of the world yet, boy. You don''t know how deep the road to hell truly runs. Me? Compared to those lot?


    I''m nothing. I''m more just a fox looking for scraps."


    "Greeves," Beam said, unable to keep the anger out of his voice as he fixed his gaze on the merchant. Greeves could not help but shudder. Even Judas felt goosebumps run down the length of his arms. "You gave that threat so casually. How many families have you torn apart just for coin? How many lives have you condemned to very just to fill your purse?


    How many hopes have you snuffed out with a single thoughtless line?"


    Greeves met his gaze head on, despite the trembling in his heart. Beam''s eyes that made even a hobgoblin cower ¨C but the merchant was made of firmer stuff. "You look down on me boy, I see that. You judge my crimes as inadequacies. But your judgement? I piss on it.


    You''re strong, kid, we all see it. We all see that you''re climbing a mountain taller than any of us could imagine ¨C but that doesn''t make you wise. Doesn''t even make you smart. Don''t you lecture me on darkness when you''re merely hiding in your own weakness."


    Beam stood up in his anger as he towered over Greeves'' desk. Greeves stood up to meet him, his own anger ame.


    "You''re just a fucking murderer, merchant. I don''t care how you try to justify it, you people with your hands in very ¨C you can all rot. You should all meet a bloody death for the deeds you''ve done," Beam spat.


    "Aye? And can you give me that bloody death? Can you?" Greeves shouted back. "Your morals are piss poor! They''re fucking see through, son. That shit is weak.


    That shit burns a country to the ground. Do you know what it takes to fuel these cities, do ya? Do you know what the fuck goes on behind the scenes? Nah, cos you don''t give a fuck. Youck understanding. You say ''that''s wrong'' but you can''t provide another way.


    Youbel me a criminal, but can you cut me down, boy? You ever killed a man? You ever believe in something so strongly that you''d cut down anything that stood in your way?"


    The sheer venom with which Greeves spoke made Beam recoil for a moment, before his eyes red with anger once more, sure that it was merely a merchant''s attempt at weaselling his way out of the crimes hemitted.


    "When the dayes, when it''s necessary, I''ll be able to do it," Beam said.


    "Then start here! Go on then! End it! You''ve judged me guilty, have you not? Go on then, you deliver the punishment!" Greeves grabbed his knife off his desk and forced it into Beam''s hand, before grabbing the edge of the de and dragging it towards his throat. Blood dripped on the desk from it.


    Judas baulked in rm as he held his hands up, not sure quite how to get involved or who to help.


    Beam coiled his fingers around the hilt of the knife, looking deep in Greeves'' eyes as the merchant begged him for his execution.


    "DO IT!" Greeves shouted.


    "FUCKING DO IT!" He said again.


    The merchant''s eyes were so dark in their brown that they approached ck. The many lives that he had taken swam inside them,plete in a sea of suffering. An existence that betrayed its agony.

 Chapter 134: The Fruit of Struggle - Part 12

    Beam punched him in frustration, his fist making contact with the merchant''s nose and sending him ttering into the wall. Judas hurried over to him in rm, but Greeves held his hand up for him to stop, as he staggered back to his feet, clutching his battered face. But the anger had still not faded from his eyes.


    "You don''t get it boy," he said quietly, as Beam stood there, breathing heavily. "I''ll tell you what I believe in ¨C why I''ve killed as much as I have. I believe in me. ME! Fucking me. Yeah, you talk of very and that?


    Where do you think I crawled up from? Mm? You think you can stay a pure little uncut gem whilst going through that, eh? Naw. Naw. Fuck that.


    The weak get trampled on, that''s just how it goes."


    "I managed," Beam said. He already knew that Greeves had guessed he was a ve.


    But Greeves shook his head. "Nah. You didn''t. No fucker without a sea of darkness has eyes like yours. You have the same belief as me, and yet you stand there, judging me? If you were in the same position, you''d have done the same fucking thing.


    My little way out of very, do you know what that was? Do you know what that golden opportunity that the gods shone light on looked like? It looked like that," he said, pointing at the knife Beam was clutching. "A knife to my master''s neck. He begged me for his death, just like I did to you. Only, my choice was weightier.


    I knew it was either kill him as he asked me to, or waste away the rest of my life as a ve. You fucking know what I did."


    Beam grit his teeth.


    "If you were in that same position, would you not have slid that de across his throat too? The fucker was begging me for it. He got overwhelmed by the weight of his own darkness. Begged his bastard ve to end his life. Would you run away from that?"


    "No¡­" Beam said quietly. "I wouldn''t have."


    "Hah. There you go then. You''re just as capable of the same evils as me," Greeves said.


    "Yet I have not yetmitted them," Beam said.


    "No, but if you wish to climb higher, then I bet you you''re gonna need to. You wanna get strong? What happens when some washed up knight challenges you? Could you cut him down without remorse? No? Then your hesitation will get you killed," Greeves said.


    "Maybe you''ve got a point. But I still can''t agree with you preying on the weak," Beam said.


    Greeves let out a long sigh at that. "Fuck, my nose hurts," heined, as he pulled his knocked over chair back upright and sat back down on it. Beam calmed down a little too, as he saw Greeves'' anger fade. Finally, Greeves spoke again. "Y''know, watching you, that''s about the only part I''ve fallen to regretting."


    "What do you mean?" Beam asked.


    "Well, y''know, as you were fighting that thing, I saw it dancing about ¨C yer own darkness. Your own rage. Your own self-belief. All the same shit I''ve had bubbling inside of me," Greeves said. Beam started to speak, but Greeves held up a hand to pause him. "Nah, I''m not saying we''re exactly alike.


    Just that I could see a bit of myself in you. And you know, I''ve been getting pissed off with stagnation. Five years I''ve been sat in this same vige. Aye, I''m top dog here ¨C but that was never the goal. I wanted to be a city dog. I wanted to make even nobles kneel."


    Beam remained silent as Greeves collected his thoughts before continuing.


    "See, devouring the weak, I thought that was the only way to feed myself and get strong¡­ But it hasn''t made me any stronger. It''s not quality nutrition. Aye, it gets me coin, but it doesn''t nourish me. Doesn''t make me sleep well. Despite what you might think, I''m not a purebred evil bastard. It''s not like I don''t think about what I''ve done.


    I just thought it was necessary ¨C thought that was just how it goes¡­ But now I''m thinking, maybe it should be the strong that I devour, eh?"


    "The strong?" Beam repeated with a raised eyebrow. "That''s what you got from it?"


    "C''mon now, spare me your scorn. For a devil like me, that''s a big insight. In fact, you should be apuding me. I''ve made up my mind to slowly phase myself away from all this low level business. I''m gonna challenge me a proper merchant. I''m gonna sink my teeth into them, and I''m gonna devour them," Greeves said.


    Beam sighed. "I don''t know how you think this makes up for what you''ve done."


    "Pah, fuck all that. If you judge me so harshly, you should juste find me to cut me down. If you don''t have the balls to do it, then I''m out, running free. N'' I figure, if I challenge one of these dirty merchants ¨C some bastards even more rotten than I am ¨C and I eat them up, doesn''t that make me something of a hero, mm? Don''t I sort of pay for my sins?" Greeves said.


    Beam looked at Judas. "Is he serious?"


    Judas shrugged, a thoroughly confused look on his face, but he said nothing, apparently daring not to.


    "What? You looking down on that too? Hah, you''re hard to please kid. I thought, given your age, you''d be able to rte to that kind of delusion, y''know? Doesn''t every kid wanna be a hero? See to me, the difference between a hero and a viin is just a matter of timing," Greeves shed a grin.


    "Well, what do you say, do you want in?"


    "In on what, even?" Beam said.


    Greeves shrugged. "In on whatever. I''m serious about it, you know. I want to see just how far I can go before I get any older. And when the timees, when I''ve got the enemy cornered, might be I''ll send our littled here in to strike the heroic blow, what do you think?"

 Chapter 135: The Fruit of Struggle - Part 13

    "Don''t drag me into delusions," Beam said.


    But Greeves justughed, apparently impervious to the ridicule. "What, you don''t like being called a hero? Then don''t let people catch ya doing battle like you were before. A passionate disy, that''s what it was. C''mon, at least leave the table open for suggestion. You''re getting to learn the importance of having options, aren''t ya?


    Even if you don''t like me, even if you''re still thinking I''m vile scum, are you really so powerful that you''ll never have a use for me?"


    Unable to think of a retort, Beam slowly agreed. "¡­Fine, I suppose."


    But from the wide smile that immediately blossomed on Greeves'' face, he wished he hadn''t said anything, for his expression had lit up as though he''d finally managed to tempt an opponent into falling for his trap. "Excellent. Well, now that we''re associates, I figure I better keep you in the loop ¨C a little update from our friend Ferdinand ¨C you were right."


    Beam wrinkled his nose at being called Greeves'' associate for the second time that day. "An update on what?"


    "That scrap of Yarmdon g you found? It was the real deal. Twenty miles east of here, a detachment of around three hundred men made it over the mountain. They''ve already burned a vige to the ground. Since then, they''ve split up into groups of six, fifty men in each group, and they''ve all gone in different directions, causing havoc everywhere.


    And as a result, Ferdinand is sending an army to be posted here until they''re dealt with."


    That caught Beam''s attention. "An army? How many?"


    "A hundred men, I''m told, all trained soldiers. Then a knight leading them as captain. Had his name written on the letter somewhere, but it was so nd that I''ve forgotten it," Greeves said.


    "How''s the vige going to manage to support a hundred extra men? Do we have the supplies for that?" Beam asked.


    Greeves grinned. "Ah, now you''re worrying about a merchant''s struggles? Don''t worryd, I''ll make enough coin for us both. By that I mean, I''ll be making loads for me, that I could share, but won''t, ''cos yer not helping. I''ve got a few wagons of food and supplies all bought and paid for that I n to sell to those city dwellers at city costs.


    Ferdinand said they''re meant to be bringing enough supplies for themselves ¨C but y''know how soldiers go. They''ll want something to spend their money on, so I''ve got two things for them."


    "Mm," Beam said in thought. Greeves looked disappointed.


    "You''re not going to ask what the two things are? Food and whores!" Heughed, before clutching his nose. "Damn it, this still bloody kills, ruining my pretty face, ya little shit."


    "Whores? I thought you just said you were done dealing in the lowly stuff?" Beam said.


    Greeves seemed to take personal offence to that. "Whores aren''t lowly! That''s a noble profession, that is. An'' none of my whores are ves ¨C they''re all good decent women that have wandered into the profession because of how well it pays."


    "Alright, I suppose¡­" Beam said.


    "Still not convinced? Why not try one of em''? Mm? You saw Loriel earlier, didn''t you? Fine woman, eh? There''s many more like her.


    They''re all a few years older than you, but they''d be nice to you, they would. Maybe they''d take some of the poison out of you ¨C stop you from punching merchants, mm?" Greeves said.


    "I''ll pass," Beam said gruffly.


    "Hah! Hear that, Judas?" Greeves said gleefully. "The whores that you spend your hard-earned coin on ¨C he just turned down a free go as though it was beneath him. Bit offensive, that, ain''t it?"


    "The boy''s still young," Judas said. "In a few years, I''m sure he''ll be paying visits. Besides, he got the girl, doesn''t he?"


    "He does?" Greeves said, widening his eyes in mock surprise. "I hadn''t realized they were an item yet. No wonder he got so offended! My apologies,d, my apologies."


    Beam could tell that Greeves was merely making fun of him ¨C unlike Judas, he was well aware that N and Beam weren''t anything more than friends. "Is that all the news you have for me? I''ve things to do," he said, instead changing the subject.


    "Heh, no fun," Greeves tutted. "Naw, that''s it. Just that armying in, Yarmdon raiders on the horizon, n'' then we''ve got the Elder hanging around making threats through letters. But if you stay alert, I doubt any of that will bother you."


    "Alright," Beam turned to go.


    "Boy," Greeves stopped him before he went, growing serious once more. "Stay sharp, yeah?"


    "I will," Beam said again with a frown, not understanding the need to say such a thing twice. And then he left, with Judas guiding him out.


    "Seems like the boss proper likes you," Judas said as they went. "Never heard him talk about his past like that, not to anyone."


    Beam nced at him briefly. He didn''t know how to feel about the whole affair. But the fact remained. He hadn''t been strong enough in his morals to cut Greeves down where he stood. Perhaps there was even some truth in Greeves'' words. All he knew was that he had to continue to grow, for the world would not be so kind as to wait until he was ready.


    "I''ll see youter then," Judas said, waving him off. Beam nodded.


    Across the market square, N was waiting, just as she said she would be. She was sat on a barrel, finishing up thest of the lunch that her mother had given her. From how fast she was eating, Beam guessed she was starved.


    She noticed Beam from a distance away and waved, her mouth full. She swallowed before calling out to him. "Beam!" She said. "How''d it go?"


    "Mm," Beam felt the coins in his pocket. "I suppose it went okay."


    "Yeah?" N said with a smile, before noticing something. She sniffed the air a few times, holding her nose upwards. "What''s that smell? Like¡­ Perfume?"


    "Ah, yeah," Beam said awkwardly. "One of the people that works for Greeves."


    N looked at him with narrowed eyes, before letting out a long "hmm¡­" The fact that she said nothing worried Beam even more, but since he didn''t have the words to defend himself, he hurriedly changed the topic.

 Chapter 136: The Fruit of Struggle - Part 14

    "The business dealings ¨C did they conclude alright?"


    N''s excitement returned as she nodded enthusiastically. "Yup! After seeing you fight the other day, I knew I couldn''t keep letting my fear hold me back. I''ve been worried for ages about what people would say about a girl like me hunting ¨C but finally I''ve made the first step, and it seems like I''ll be making so much money!"


    Beam grinned, sharing her joy. "You''re well on the way to building up that hunting business that you wanted."


    But N shook her head. "Nope. I still have a long way to go. I know that looking at Greeves ¨C even though he''s absolutely the worst, I still can''t deny that he''s way out of my league. If I''m going to have my own hunting business, I need to not just be the best hunter, but I need to be the best merchant too. That''s the only way I''m going to make it to the top."


    Beam felt a little ufortable hearing Greeves get praised, given his knowledge of his dark dealings, but he avoided saying anything about it. "I''m sure you''ll get there. Your hunting is already high level."


    "It''s still not there yet. I need to get stronger¡­ Though I''m not really sure what it means to be a strong hunter. After you let me hunt with you, I started to sort of figure it out. But I don''t want to be a monster yer, I didn''t enjoy that like I did hunting. I don''t really know how the highest peak in hunting is different from being really good at ying monsters, though," N said.


    "Sounds like a puzzle," Beam agreed.


    "Mhm, but I''m going to keep trying to figure it out, and I''ll be the best hunter in the entire province, just you wait and see!" N said with a big smile. Beam grinned along with her.


    "I''ll try and keep it with you," he said, "I''ve got to get much stronger too."


    N puffed out her cheeks. "No fair. You''ve got to give me a little time to catch up ¨C you''re so far away at the moment!"


    "No can do," Beamughed. "I''m still way behind where I should be."


    "Mmm¡­ Thank you though," N said quietly.


    "What for?"


    "For everything. For today. I know what you were trying to do, intimidating the people I''m working with so they''ll think twice about going backstabbing me¡­ and whilst I don''t think it was necessary, thank you anyway. It felt nice, y''know, to have someone there backing me up. I thought I''d have to do it all alone," N said.


    "Naw, I only came in at thest minute. You did it all yourself up until then. And it''ll be all you after this too," Beam said.


    "I know, but still, thank you. You gave me the courage to finally go ahead and do it, and you helped me get the money I needed to get started. Without the rewards from hunting the spiders and goblins I''d never have been able to get this far. It was a huge help," N said.


    "And now, by the looks of things, you''ll be sorted for money for a while. 4 whole silver for a deer. That''s crazy, right? And that''s light work for you too ¨C you could hunt a few deer every day if you wanted to."


    "Heheh, I''m getting rich!" She grinned mischievously. "If you ever need a lend of some money, just let me know! N Felder the money lender! But deer usually sell for a bit more. Upwards of 6 or 7 silver, because of all the meat on them, the organs and the fur too. They''re super useful and they''re not so easy to hunt."


    Beamughed with her. "You''ve got a couple of weeks left before winter properly sets in too. It seems like you''ll be able to make a lot of money before the winter."


    "Yup. It''s a big turnaround. From not having enough money to get us through the winter, to the silvers from monster hunting, and now having just crazy amounts. Honestly, I''m not going to know what to do with it. Mm. I think I''ll get Stephanie and David some new clothes first.


    They''re growing like crazy. And then I''ll get a present for mother¡­ And then I''ll make sure we''ve got lots of nice tasty food to enjoy," she said.


    "Probably be a good idea to get whatever you need in soon ¨C word from Greeves. There''s an army on its way. Some Yarmdon raiders made it across the mountain. You had best keep safe while you''re hunting," Beam said.


    N''s eyes widened in terror as she suddenly froze. "Yarmdon raiders!? Are we going to be alright? What if they attack before the army gets here?"


    "They were spotted 20 miles east of here¡­ But I found a scrap of their g near the perimeter of the vige ¨C probably carried by the wind. It''s possible that they''ll make it here before the army, but we should be fine even so. They''ve split into groups of 6, with only fifty men in a group. Surely the vige can defend itself against a mere fifty," Beam said.


    But N shook her head. "I doubt it¡­ If they made it across the mountains, they''re no doubt strong. Plus, Yarmdon raiders are strong regardless. They''re giants, right? And we don''t have any real fighters aside from you and Judas. We''ve only got maybe a hundred men of fighting age, but it''s not like we''ve ever had to fight here.


    The vige is far enough away from everything that no army ever makes it this far."


    "Heh¡­ So we''re in more trouble than I thought," Beam mused.


    N nodded gravely. "How long do you think it''ll take for that army to arrive? And how many are there?"


    "A few days, I''d suppose. Greeves said a hundred men," Beam said.


    "Only a hundred?" N frowned in disappointment. "But there are 300 Yarmdon raiders, aren''t there? You said they''re split into groups, but what if some of these groups join back up to attack?"

 Chapter 137: The Fruit of Struggle - Part 15

    "Then I suppose we''d be in trouble," Beam said.


    "You''re talking like it doesn''t concern you¡­" N noticed, a twinge of sadness in her eyes.


    Beam shrugged. "At the very least, I''ll make sure you and your family are safe."


    A shadow fell over N''s face as they talked outside the bakery. Beam felt an ominous presence behind him, and he turned his neck with a frown on his face, looking to see who had interrupted them.


    "N Felder," the vige Elder said, nked by one of his attendants ¨C one of the expressionless dark robed twins that Beam had seen back at his residence. Beam flinched upon seeing the old man, but the Elder hardly looked at him. "Your family has collected a debt of ten favour points. Repayment is demanded."


    N gulped. "My mother has already worked out a repayment n¡­" she stuttered.


    The vige Elder waved his hand away dismissively. "That repayment n was set in ce when circumstances were different. You and your family have received favour from the vige in the past, its assistance. Now that the vige needs assistance, you must return that favour."


    "Return the favour how..?" N asked. "I''m pretty sure we''ve been there every time somebody needed help, yet our favour points haven''t gone down¡­"


    Beam''s eye twitched as he listened in. The vige Elder continued to ignore him, so he looked to his attendant instead. Indeed, she was the same beautiful woman that he remembered. And yet, despite her beauty, there was an incredible coldness to her, ack of humanity, that rendered her one of the most unattractive people he had ever met.


    It was as though the very life had been sucked out of her and instead reced with something that all humans new to instinctively avoid.


    "You must either repay the value of the vige''s favour ¨C a sum of fifty golds. Or, one of your family members must enter my service for ten years," the vige Elderid out the insane options in a voice that suggested it was only fair.


    "Hang on," N interrupted. "Fifty golds!? We only received assistance for food and firewood, and only for two years at that ¨C there''s no way we''ve racked up a debt of fifty gold!"


    "Such is the value of the favour points that you collected at this time. If you wish for their removal, then those are your two options," the Elder said. "Now, which of your family members will be entering my employ? You have two younger siblings, do you not?"


    "No!" N shouted immediately. "You''re not taking David or Stephanie."


    The Elder shrugged, entirely unperturbed by her outburst. "Then you will be entering my services instead, I assume. One, present the property contract."


    From her sleeve, the dark haired woman expressionlessly produced a piece of parchment.


    "Stamp it with your blood and the transaction will be done. You will be my property for the good of the vige, and in turn, your family''s debt will have been repaid. They will be weed back within the folds of ourmunity, reaping the benefits of that position," the Elder said.


    "Wait! Can''t you just¡­ wait a little longer? In a few weeks, maybe I''ll be able to pay back the gold¡­ Wouldn''t that be more valuable? No ve is going to cost more than a gold coin," she said.


    The vige Elder was unable to keep the irritation off his face. "No-" he began.


    Beam had been watching him carefully, and only now did he interrupt. "Is there some reason that you''re being so forceful? As N said, the money would surely be worth far more."


    For the first time in the conversation, the vige Elder looked at him, tutting as he did so, his expression one of absolute mirth. Beam shuddered at the look. Indeed Greeves had warned him that his actions would have irritated the vige Elder, but he didn''t expect him to be quite so angry.


    "This is of no concern to you," the Elder managed to spit out.


    "Ah, but it is. I''m contracted to serve this vige by Ferdinand, you know? If your actions aren''t within the interest of the vige, then I would have to intervene," Beam said. Of course, he was bluffing. He''d never had a direct contract with Ferdinand himself, but the Elder couldn''t prove that, even if he disbelieved it.


    Besides, there was always the possibility that he could stir up trouble through Greeves.


    The old man wrinkled his face as he let out a sigh. "You two ¨C you have no idea what you''re up to. Foolish. Ever so foolish. You know not what it takes to run amunity like this. You forcing my lenience here may very well be the straw that copses the entire vige."


    "I very much doubt that Elder, but I ask you to be lenient anyway. Though you might be old, I can imagine people still using you of being a tyrant," Beam said.


    The old man clenched his jaw. "Two weeks," he said atst, as though the very words were poison to him. "That''s all you have. Any longer than that, and I will be made to take possession of you by force."


    With those menacing words, the old man turned around and left, leaning heavily on his staff as he was, his attendant following on soundlessly behind him.


    Beam let out a long sigh once he was finally out of earshot. "Trouble just keeps oning," he murmured. He nced at N. She looked as though someone had frozen her in stone.


    "I''m really going to have to be a ve¡­" she murmured to herself. "There''s no way I can gather that much money."


    Beam massaged his temples. "Greeves warned me about the old man, but to think it''d be you that he went after. Hah¡­"


    N was still frozen in shock, murmured to herself.


    Beam put a hand on her shoulder. "Rx, N. We still have options, even if I''d rather not use them." He took out the leather coin pouch that he had been given by Greeves and opened it up under her nose. That finally seemed to get her attention back, and she gasped.

 Chapter 138: The Fruit of Struggle - Part 16

    "Gods! Is that gold? How much is there?" N shouted in surprise.


    "10 golds. Not enough, but it''s a start," Beam said. N widened her eyes in surprise, her expression finally unfreezing. But then, some thought of others must have passed through her head for her eyebrows sank and she crouched to her knees, cradling her head in her hand as she fought to hide the tears.


    "Again¡­ Again you''re trying to help me¡­ Just when I thought I would finally be able to help you, this happens," she cried. A few passersby shot Beam judgemental nces as they passed, seeming to assume that it was he that made her cry. She shot her head up suddenly. "Beam. I can''t ept, no matter what."


    "Eh? Why?" Beam asked in surprise. "It''s not even like I have enough money yet. I''m just saying it''s there as reassurance in case you need it."


    But N shook her head. "I can''t drag you into my problems. It''s unfair, and it hurts after I came so close to finally making a big change for my family¡­ But this is our problem. You have bigger things to worry about."


    "N¡­" Beam murmured, his eyes wide.


    "Please Beam, don''t interfere," N said, forcing him a smile. "I''ll be alright. I''ve got two weeks, remember? I''m going to try my best to raise it up myself¡­ And if not, I''m prepared to do what I have to."


    Beam shook his head. "Naw, I''m sorry N, I can''t let you do that."


    It was N''s turn to be surprised. "¡­What? I''m saying you can''t! I don''t want your help! You can''t force it on me."


    Beam just shrugged. "Even if you hate me forever for it, I won''t let you fall into very. It''s bad enough for a man. I doubt that Elder would treat you well. I can''t let your family fall like that, after you''ve been so kind to me."


    "Beam¡­" N said, more tears flowing as she desperately tried to wipe them. "I don''t want it! I don''t want to keep being so much weaker than you. I don''t want to keep having to ask you for your help¡­ It''s not fair, it hurts too much."


    "C''mon, you''re getting into business aren''t you?" Beam teased with a gentle smile. "You''ve surely heard of a loan before, haven''t you? That''s how Greeves gets most of his money, y''know? You lend it out, then you get it repaid back with interest. I''m not helping you, I''m just giving a loan to a new business that''s opening. There''s no need to cry over that, is there?"


    "Ah¡­" a soft murmur escaped N''s lips as she understood. "Is that really okay..? I''ll pay you back double!"


    "Sure," Beam nodded in agreement, just happy to see that she''d stopped crying. "Obviously I don''t have the money yet though, but I have a feeling Greeves will cough it up if I push the right buttons."


    "That''ll put you in a tough spot again though," N said with a frown. "I''ll be loaning from you and you''ll be loaning from Greeves¡­ It''s definitely you that''s going to have the harder time."


    Beam shrugged. "I''m sure it''ll be fine. I understand the merchant a little moretely, and if he stays true to his word, a little work for him here and there won''t hurt me."


    "What can hurt you at this point?" N said with a giggle, finally breaking into a smile. "But this is just thest resort, okay? I''m really going to try and make it all myself first," she dered.


    "Sure," Beam agreed, "that works for me."


    "Alright!" N pumped her fist. "Now I feel a little better. Thanks, Beam," she said.


    "C''mon, wipe your face and I''ll walk you home," Beam said.


    A few days passed since N and Beam''s encounter with the vige Elder and since Dominus had officially made Beam his apprentice.


    "C''mon, you''re weak still," Dominusined as Beam fought with a pack of goblins. "If you keep this strength, I''m going to be embarrassed to tell everyone that you''re my apprentice."


    Beam freed himself from the goblin that had jumped on his back and he flung it hard enough against the ground that it bounced. He drove his sword through its stomach a momentter, before shing to behead another one of its brethren that ran at him.


    "There you go, that''s more like it," Dominus said cheerfully. "See, you can do it when you try."


    Beam heaved his breath, sighing in annoyance. There were still two goblins remaining, squealing as he faced off against them. Their eyes were filled with fear at seeing their brethren get dismantled so easily.


    "Oh! That''s the fear condition, isn''t it?" Dominus shouted jovially. "Go on then, test that skill of yours!"


    Beam was having a hard time concentrating with his master''s excited murmurings, but even that could not stop the flood of rage that built up within him as he saw the goblins dare to show their fear, as though they were begging for mercy. Mere seconds before a group of ten of them had dared to try and tear him to pieces ¨C and now here they were, acting like frightened rabbits.


    They turned on their heels to run.


    "Wait!" Beam bellowed. And just for an instant, their legs froze up, so suddenly that it caused the two of them to go skidding to the floor in a heap of leaves. That was all the opportunity Beam needed. He was on them a momentter as his sword shed and he severed their heads.


    "Hoh¡­" Dominus suddenly became serious, his smile fading from his face. "Now that''s¡­ I don''t know what that is."


    "Hm?" Beam looked up from his kills as he eyed the green blood on his sword distastefully.


    "That was your skill, was it not? They yielded to your words, if only for a moment," Dominus said.


    "Oh? Did they really? I thought they just tripped." Beam had been so focused on the fight that he had not paused to think why his adversaries had fallen so suddenly, but now that he thought about it, he certainly recognized that the two of them falling together was indeed strange.

 Chapter 139: The Soldiers - Part 1

    "Tripped? On what?" Dominus asked. "Use your head a little, boy. Just because you''ve in yourself a hobgoblin doesn''t mean you get to lose what little wits you had and just turn into a mindless sword swinger.


    Beam frowned. It might have been his imagination, but he felt like Dominus was growing even harsher now that he''d made him his apprentice. Dominus paid no mind to the look that he shot him.


    "I didn''t sense any mana from you when you did it," Dominus mused.


    "You can sense that? I thought you said only mages could?" Beam asked.


    Dominus just shrugged. "I didn''t say I could sense it well ¨C can''t even attempt to control it or anything like that. I more feel it just like you feel heat, though I have to concentrate."


    "Hmm¡­ So if not mana, what else could it be?" Beam said.


    Dominus tilted his head, looking entirely baffled. "Beats me. Seems to be something entirely out of the normal realm of understanding."


    "Well¡­ It doesn''t seem that powerful to me," Beam said.


    "That''s why you''ve got to train it then, isn''t it?" Dominus said with an impatient wave of his hand. "Don''t forget to count these blessings boy, this here is unique, in a realmpletely unknown to me. Do you not understand the weight of that? Have you forgotten just who I am?"


    "You''re the man who wounded the Pandora Goblin," Beam said uncertainly.


    "That''s right! You may have been around me for a month, so I''ll me it on the fact that you''re getting used to me, but this here isn''t no ordinary situation. If I say I sense great power in this skill, then what room is there left for you to doubt?" Dominus said.


    It was only then that Beam started to understand the true source of his enthusiasm. "You''re kind of childish, master¡­ To think you''d get this excited about a new skill."


    Dominus tutted in annoyance. "To think I''ve taken on an apprentice who isn''t more excited. I''ve spent my whole life chasing progress, chasing power, and you''ve opened up a dimensionpletely foreign to me. How could I not be excited? I will not allow you to neglect it."


    "I wasn''t nning on neglecting it," Beam said, correcting him, "I''m just cautioning myself about getting too arrogant about it, ''cos as it is at the moment, I don''t really have much use for it."


    "Nonsense, even as it is now, it''s plenty useful. Being able to break a deadlock and secure the finishing blow ¨C that''s a realm of advantage that''s impossible to ignore. You take it too lightly," Dominus said. "You''re as yet an unpolished stone, you can shape yourself in any direction. You have to make the choice again and again: who do you want to be, what style of swordsmanship will you wield?"


    "I¡­ I don''t know?" Beam stammered, caught off guard.


    "Ha!" Dominus barked at him with a shake of his head. "You need to be more solid than that. The road we travel boy, no matter what those city knights say, it''s one of madness. You need to be ready to lose everything that you''ve worked for at a single moment ¨C that''s what progress demands of you at times.


    It demands that you cut off everything that you used to believe in and transform into something else."


    "And, as you are now ¨C you''ve just transformed. You''re in a zone of perfect potential. Now is the time to push to your absolute limits, to explore this new zone of possibility and to find new areas to conquer," Dominus continued. "Your swordsmanship up until now has been raw, you''ve had some ideas, but it''s time to develop them."


    "I know that¡­" Beam said. "Even I know that I need to be pushing harder and looking for a new direction to progress in. But I still don''t know where."


    "The answer is right in front of you, boy! It was given to you when you needed it most. It''s this skill of yours," Dominus shouted. "What more is there to think of? Develop your swordsmanship around this skill, use it at the scaffolding for a new mode of improvement. So far, we know it works on fear.


    So how should you fight? You must terrify your enemy."


    As Dominus said those words, Beam felt a chill pass through his heart, as a sudden realisation dawned on him. It was not a chill of fear, but a chill of excitement, a rush of adrenaline. "Terrify my enemy?" He repeated quietly.


    "Exactly, boy! There are many ways to go about doing that. There''s the unexpected ¨C to fight so wildly that your opponent grows flustered and fears you. Or there''s the kingly way, making your movements seem effortless, magnifying the difference between yourself and the enemy, altering his perspective so that he sees you as stronger than you are. Thus will he yield.


    Find what path you want to pursue and pursue it," Dominus said.


    Now Beam was smiling, as he thought of all the possibilities that were unfolding in front of him. "I''m going to have to put some serious thought into this¡­ I want to try it out. Are there more enemies in the area?"


    But Dominus waved his hand. "That can wait untilter. The strange nature of this monster spawning, that works to the advantage of your training¡­ But things have changed from how they were before. You are now my apprentice. Thus, it is not only progress that you must chase, but you must also learn to shoulder responsibility."


    "You want me to do chores or something?" Beam asked. He was already doing a few things to tend to his master as an apprentice should ¨C like sharpening his sword and helping with the meals and the firewood.


    "No. I mean a weightier responsibility. It''s a coreponent in the growth of a knight. You must have something to protect. In the city, the nobility have their sectors that the knights are charged with protecting. When I was a youth, for ourck ofnd, I was charged with wandering to the nearby town.


    For you, I give you this responsibility: protect this vige that you inhabit. And protect it with your life."

 Chapter 140: The Soldiers - Part 2

    Beam''s eyes widened as he felt the weight of that burden. "Protect it..? Can I really do that? With so many people?"


    But Dominus just shrugged. "That''s for you to decide. I will not get involved with vige matters. You will tackle this mission alone. You already know one thing that needs fixing: these overbearing monster numbers. But if the feeling in the air is anything to go by, things will only get worse ¨C and winter ising too."


    Beam sucked in a deep breath to psyche himself up mentally. "I''m going to need to get stronger then," he said, clenching a fist.


    Dominus nodded. "Be that as it may ¨C such matters can wait. I believe you said that today is the day that those soldiers areing to the vige? You had best be off then. Remember though, even the soldiers are of higher rank thank you. They are of the serving ss, whereas you vigers are peasants.


    That is not to mention the knight that leads them ¨C they have the Lord''s permission to cut down any who offend them."


    Having been so caught up in their morning battle Beam had entirely forgotten about the soldiers until his master had mentioned it and again his eyes widened in realisation as he looked about in rm.


    "Oh, damn! I''mte! I''d forgotten all about that ¨C and after I agreed to meet N too," Beam said.


    Dominus grinned. "I thought you might forget. Too busy thinking about the big stuff that you forget all about the small things. Go on nowd, get going. Mind yourself well, and pay attention. This will be your first time seeing any warriors other than me ¨C see if you can sense their strength."


    Beam responded with a serious nod before gathering his things and dashing away.


    ¡­


    ¡­


    Breathlessly, Beam raced through the forest and towards N''s house, where he''d agreed to meet her.


    She saw himing from a distance away, and already there was an irritated frown on her face as she impatiently tapped her foot with her arms folded.


    "You''rete, you know!" She said as Beam skidded to a halt beside her.


    Beam grinned. He was pleased to see her more back to her old self. She''d been hunting for a few days now, and Beam knew that she was working as hard as she could. The butcher was stunned when he saw just how much meat she was bringing in, as were those attendant hunters that she''d contracted under her.


    If one was to ignore the looming danger of the vige Elder''s threats, N had truly made it. For one so young to take the steps that she had, and to be performing so well despite the pressure. He was proud of her, but he couldn''t say that to her face.


    "Sorry I''mte," he said instead.


    "You don''t seem particrly sorry with a smile on your face," N said, pretending to be cross, but in truth she was smiling too. "You brought your sword with you today?"


    Beam nodded, as he straightened up, trying to recover his breath. "Mhm, I asked Greeves if he''d pay me to guard him as we weed the army in. Apparently it''s meant to be a pretty formal ceremony, so I figured he''d want someone extra to go with Judas, y''know, to make himself look more official."


    N didn''t look particrly happy as he said that. "¡­You had to do that because of me, right?" She said ufortably as she looked away.


    But Beam just grinned. "Nah, to tell you the truth, I''m a bit excited."


    N raised her eyebrows in surprise. "Excited? Really? Everyone else is pretty terrified, you know. They have no idea what''s going to happen."


    "This is my first time seeing a proper knight other than master, and master doesn''t really carry himself like a proper knight, so I''m wondering what they''ll look like," Beam said.


    N let out a sigh and smiled. "Sometimes I forget that you''re still just a boy¡­"


    "C''mon, we''re pretty much the same age here, don''t try to act older than me," Beam said, telling her off. He motioned with his head towards the road and they started walking towards the town centre. "¡­Is the vige Elder still bothering you?"


    N grimaced at that. "Mhm¡­ Just as I was saying before, those servants of his, theye every morning before dawn and knock super loud on the door, demanding the repayment. Stephanie and David are terrified. Mother is too. I keep trying to reassure her¡­ But it''s hard, because I''m worried too.


    I know you said you''d cover the cost even if I fail to get it all myself¡­ But I feel like things won''t end there."


    Beam nodded seriously. "You''re probably right. Even after paying him, we should stay on guard."


    The two of them weren''t the only ones heading towards the vige square.


    "The soldiers areing!" A returning hunter shouted as he ran past, having scouted the army marching towards them from across the ins.


    His shouts inspired the many people heading towards the town centre to rush there themselves. Everyone was required to be there, so they might kneel before the presence of nobility and offer up their services, if only ceremoniously.


    Beam and N sped up as well, and it wasn''t long before they neared the town centre. But the closer they got, the denser and denser the crowd became. They had to force their way through to get closer.


    "Beam! I see mother over there ¨C I''m going to head over! Good luck with your guarding ¨C make sure you don''t offend anyone!" N had to shout over the murmurings of the crowd to be heard. She waved goodbye to Beam as she moved away.


    "Alright, I''ll see youter," Beam said quietly back, but she was already far enough away that she couldn''t hear him.


    Beam made his way through the crowd a little more forcefully now. People would turn around toin to him, but then they would notice the sword sheathed at his hip and the stern look on his face and they would soon wilt.

 Chapter 141: The Soldiers - Part 3

    When he passed, they would look after him in confusion, and so began the murmurings, as people vaguely recognized the former digger boy, wondering why he had such a fine sword at his hip.


    They''d built a small wooden tform in the centre of the vige to receive the Captain and his army on. On that tform there was a tableden with food and ceremonial gifts of weapons and water.


    At the table, Greeves was sat with Judas standing behind him. Both were dressed better than Beam had ever seen them. Greeves had a green velvet coat over his shoulder and fancy shin high leather boots over his legs. His hair was oiled back and his beard was trimmed.


    As for Judas, he''d alsobed what little hair remained on his balding head, and he''d put on some of his cleaner clothes. He had arge axe sheathed at his belt rather than his usual baton, making him look quite the fearsome bodyguard indeed.


    At the table, sat with Greeves was also the vige smith, who was deemed of equal status because of his skill, and the relevance of it in hosting an army.


    More murmurings went through the crowd as Beam stepped up on the wooden tform to join them. Greeves broke out into a smile upon seeing him, his tense expression fading for just a second.


    "Haha! There you are,d. Good to see you. Tell you what, I ain''t half pleased you came. I''ve been worrying all morning that this bastard noble is just gonna cut me down where I stand ''cos it doesn''t like the look of me. But now I''m figuring with both you and Judas guarding me, the chances of escape are a little higher, eh?" He said.


    The smith raised an eyebrow in distaste as he heard Greeves talk, but he nodded to Beam anyway. The two had met briefly as part of the ore gathering quest that Beam had been forced to take part in.


    "I see you''re already nning your escape," Beam noted. There were three seats at the table where Greeves and the smith were seated. He could only guess that the third was for the vige Elder, who as of yet was nowhere to be seen.


    "Wait¡­ Is that goblin blood on your shirt, boy?" Greeves noted in rm.


    Beam lifted up his arm to look where Greeves was pointing. "Oh, so it is."


    "Fuck! Loriel! Get him a shirt ¨C now!" Greeves shouted to seemingly no one, but from the voice that came in reply, Beam could only guess that Loriel had been standing in the crowd just behind the table, waiting for her boss'' orders.


    "Understood ¨C I''ll fetch him a nice one," she said back sweetly.


    Greeves sighed upon hearing her reply and shook his head. "Good with a sword, butcking in themon sense department. You juste back from hunting, have you?"


    "I did a bit this morning," Beam told him.


    "And you forgot that today was the day the soldiers wereing, did you?" Greeves shook his head. "Well, I hope I''ll get to see some of those corpses that you''re sending my way, eh? They make for a nice bit of business, they do."


    "If you''re paying, then I''ll bring them," Beam said.


    Greeves grinned. "d to see you''re still money motivated."


    "SOLDIERS IN THE STREETS!" A shout rang out, briefly silencing the crowd.


    It was the signal that the soldiers had finally made it across the in and were on the road leading into town.


    Loriel was as good as her word and she returned with a shirt that she tossed to Beam before Greeves started to panic. "There you are, sweetie," she said with a smile. Beam noted that she was particrly dressed up today. She wore a dark blue dress thatplimented her ck hair, and she''d put purple lipstick on her lips and a fancy ne around her neck.


    Beam had never seen a noblewoman, but he supposed that they probably looked a lot like her.


    "Thanks," Beam said, snatching it out the air, before tearing his shirt off and forcing this one on. There were a few whistles that managed to make it through the noise of the crowd as a couple of people caught a glimpse of him changing.


    "Myyy, you''re going to make my heart stop changing like that in front of me," Loriel teased. "Here, give me that old shirt. I''ll take care of it."


    "SOLDIERS APPROACHING!" A shout through the crowd went out again, and people started to quiet down for good this time.


    Greeves motioned quickly with his head to Beam, who moved to stand behind him beside Judas. Side by side, the two looked rather ridiculous, with Beam being that much smaller than the giant man. But with the stern look on his face and the white scars on his cheeks, he still very much looked the part of a guard.


    As the crowd quietened, the sounds of the approaching army reced it.


    Slow and steady rhythmic marching. A hundred feetnding together at once. It was a powerful sensation. Beam felt a brief chill listening to it, feeling its power. A hundred men, moving as one, unified into a single entity with a single purpose ¨C it was an overbearing thought indeed.


    It was only then that the vige Elder deemed it appropriate to make his entrance. He briefly shuffled on stage. He noted Beam with irritation, before ignoring him and taking his seat in the middle of Greeves and the smith. His attendant ¨C Beam wasn''t sure if it was One or Two - stood behind him, on Beam''s right shoulder.


    Beam nced at her briefly, before turning his direction back towards the front and the approaching army.


    The crowd that had been previously encircling the entirety of the wooden tform quickly shifted, clearing the road and the path towards the tform.


    The soldiers rounded the final bend in the road, and finally they were revealed.


    Beam noted the spears at first, as they came into view. Deadly thing, twice the size of a man. Then he looked at the men that wielded them. Stern faced men, all in lockstep with each other. Rounded steel helmets sat on their heads and shirts of chainmail fell all the way to the top of their thighs, held in ce by a belt.

 Chapter 142: The Soldiers - Part 4

    And such heavily armoured men, they all beat their feet together, as a single unit, making a grand noise, lent energy by the extra weight they were carrying. Beam noted as he narrowed his eyes that very few of them wore swords ¨C most had daggers at their waists instead, with the spear being their primary weapon.


    That was, until, he caught sight of a man riding atop a white horse. There was a man that did indeed wield a sword, as the scabbard hung from his waist and tapped against the nk of his mount as he rode.


    Even from a distance, the man''s temperament was clearly distinguishable. He rode with theid back swagger of apetent man ¨C even his horse copied him. A swaggered confident stroll was what the two of them engaged in.


    As he came closer, Beam could make out his face. A stern face, middle aged, with a hairline that was starting to recede. He held his reins with one hand as his blue cloak billowed behind him. He too wore the same chain mail of his men.


    The army continued to march, easily cowering the vigers with their aggressive disy. Beam nced around to see the worried looks about the faces of the masses as the army shuffled ever closer, without a single drop of warmth disyed on a single man''s face.


    And why would there be? They were far away from home just as winter was about toe crashing down ¨C and it was peasants they were greeting. As members of the serving ss, they stood far above the ranks of mere farmers.


    The army came to a halt just a short distance away from the tform, the men ending their steps as one, sitting in a tight square with their weapons pointed skyward, all of them standing to the strictest of attention.


    The mounted man was in front of him. The man that Beam could only assume was their captain, and as such, a knight. The very first knight he had ever seen, aside from Dominus.


    "At ease," the man said lightly, and yet his words reached all four corners of the vige square, and they were as hard as stone despite theirck of volume. The voice of a man that hadmanded many for many years.


    The vigers couldn''t help but rx slightly at themand. It was only when they saw the soldiers rx their shoulders somewhat that they realized themander had been addressing his men.


    There was a palpable tension in the air as the man dismounted his horse.


    "Sir," a soldier hurried quickly forward from the ranks of men, taking the reins of the horse from his captain. The captain merely nodded in ce, before he turned his discerning gaze to those on the tform.


    He took a brief sniff in through his nose, as though dissatisfied, and then he plunged one foot onto the wooden tform, the noise ringing out across the square.


    At that signal, both Greeves and the Elder hurried forward to meet him.


    "Well met, Captain Lombard!" Greeves said, shing him his best smile, though he could not hide the sheen of sweat that coated his forehead.


    The captain gazed at him for a moment, his pale blue eyes seeming to bore a hole through him, and then he turned his gaze to the Elder expectantly.


    In turn, the old man dipped his head in a bow as deep as he was able, leaning heavily against his staff. "I am the Elder of this vige. It is an honour to make your acquaintance, Captain."


    "Hm." A brief noise, as the captain regarded them both. Beam couldn''t tell whether they''d done something to displease him, or whether the captain was just hard to please in general.


    Greeves took that opportunity to rush towards the gifts that he''d prepared. He picked up a box and opened the lid, revealing a bottle of fine wine, sitting on cushioned furs. "A gift, captain. One of many. To celebrate your takingmand of the vige, and a thank you for your services," Greeves said, holding the bottle out to him as he too dipped his head.


    "I do not drink," Lombard said, looking down on the wine as he spoke his first words to the merchant, unable to keep the disdain from his voice. Or perhaps that was simply how he always talked ¨C Beam couldn''t tell. The man seemed to be chiselled from rock with how cold his aura was.


    And all the while, Beam watched him ever so carefully, gauging his strength.


    There was an aura to the man, that was for sure. It made his skin tingle with excitement to feel it. It was the first time he''d felt a true aura from another man ¨C before he''d only felt it from the hobgoblins, and a low level menacing from the other monsters he had encountered.


    There was Dominus too, who one would expect to feel a crushing aura from, but the old knight hid his well.


    "The aura is the draw of a cultivated man to subordinate that which is around him. As the moon draws the tides, so do vast men afflict those around them with ¨C at times ¨C a painful gravity. On the low level, it is a tingle of fear, on the high level, a physical restraint," Dominus had told him when Beam had asked about it once.


    With the captain''s rejection, Greeves'' momentum faltered for just a second. As Beam watched, he was sure he saw the Elder smile, even as he kept his head lowered to the floor, in a disy of harmlessness.


    "Ah, do forgive me, Captain. I was foolish to offer such a thing. Will you partake in the meal that has been prepared for you? I can have the other gifts sent to your quarters at your leisure ¨C you may give them to your men if they do not suit you," Greeves said.


    "Hm¡­" Lombard looked at him long and hard. "I truly am in the country." He murmured to himself.

 Chapter 143: The Soldiers - Part 5

    Beam saw Greeves wince as he continued to look at the ground. Beam recalled Greeves'' deration to take down the powerful ¨C he wondered if that particr ambition was smouldering even more strongly within him now.


    After a moment''s pause, the captain spoke again.


    "You may consume your food yourself, I will dine on rations with my men," the captain said. He then turned to address the rest of the vigers. "The vige of Solgrim is now under my expressmand, as decreed by Lord ckwell himself," the captain unfurled a scroll of his ims and held it up for all in the vige to see.


    Though he could not make out the words, Beam could see the blue stamp that had been painted on the bottom of it.


    "For the duration of my stay, Solgrim vige is now Solgrim garrison ¨C a military property. And as a military property, it will be ruled by militaryw. You are all now servants of the army. From now, until our mission isplete, when called upon, you will perform your duty," the captain dered as he spoke to all of them.


    Beam could feel a shudder through the crowd at his implications. He imagined that most of the vigers dreaded the idea of being sent off tobat.


    "Though I do not have any intention of sending untrained men intobat," Lombard said, immediately assuaging those worries. "But there are other uses for you. You who have not introduced yourself, you are a smith, no?"


    "Yes, Captain, I am a smith," the local smith said as he bowed his head respectfully towards the knight.


    Lombard nodded to himself. "You will tend to equipment as necessary. The men will look after their own for the most part, but where steel must be reforged you will be called upon to serve. Whilst you are not entitled to coin for this service, you will nheless be awarded a sum. I expect noints."


    "Yes, Captain Lombad," the smith said respectfully. It seemed that he was so stiff from nerves that he dared not say anything else.


    "You, merchant," Lombard said, nodding towards Greeves. This time Beam was sure that it was distaste he saw in Lombard''s eyes. Apparently the knight did not have a fondness for merchants ¨C though he had treated the smith amiably enough. "I received word from Ferdinand that you have prepared additional supplies for my men, is that correct?"


    "It is," Greeves said, keeping his head lowered.


    "Good. Whilst normally I would have you whipped for attempting to profit from military business, this time I will buy what you have proffered up ¨C for half the price. In return, the merchants of this vige may sell to my men," Lombard said.


    He made it sound as though he was doing Greeves a favour, but Beam was pretty sure that the captain was just ripping him off. Knowing Greeves as he did, Beam was quite sure he couldn''t care less whether the other merchants in the vige were able to sell to the soldiers or not.


    "¡­Yes, Captain Lombard," Greeves said through gritted teeth. Perhaps sensing his employer''s dissatisfaction, Judas moved a step closer to him, as though to reinforce his presence and remind Lombard that he was there.


    Judas ¨C though he still stood behind Greeves, with the merchant between him and the captain ¨C towered over the Lombard with his massive frame. That wasn''t because the captain was particrly small, he was still taller than Beam, but more a testament to how giant Judas truly was.


    The captain raised a contemptuous eyebrow as he stared back at Judas. He pointedly red at his feet, as though criticising the half step that Judas had taken forward.


    "Apologies, Captain Lombard, my dog merely slipped," Greeves said, jabbing Judas back with an elbow and a furious look on his face.


    "A dog unable to keep its footing is a dog that will die in the hunt," Lombard observed. With his hand resting on the hilt of his sword, the threat behind his words was more than obvious. He intensified his aura for just a moment, causing both Judas and Greeves to buckle at the knee ¨C the merchant more severely than his guard.


    Beam reached out a hand to grab the top of Greeves robes and heave him back to his feet before the merchant toppled over.


    Only when he looked back to his left did he see that the Captain was staring at him. Not the look of contempt that he had shot Greeves, or the look of casual disregard that he had sent the way of Judas, but something closer to surprise, of interest. He turned to look at Greeves again, a clear question on his face.


    "My other guard," Greeves exined.


    "Hm¡­" Was all Lombard said as he continued to stare at Beam with his piercing gaze. Beam, for his part, merely stared back, unaware that such a thing in the city would have him sliced in two.


    "You. Elder," Lombard said atst, turning his attention back towards the old man. "My men will make camp to the east of here. You are to control your poption ¨C ensure that nothing strays through. Anything not recognized to be an ally will be killed on sight."


    The Elder bobbed his head in agreement. "I see the wisdom in such precautions, Captain," the Elder said. "Fear not ¨C I will ensure that no one strays that far east."


    Lombard didn''t respond, as though the Elder wasn''t worthy of any further words. He nced around, taking a long hard look at the crowd. They cowered beneath his weighty gaze. "That will be all," he said atst. "Stay alert ¨C you may be called upon soon."


    With that, he marched back to his horse, leaving the steaming food that had been prepared for his arrival, and the gifts that Greeves had also prepared, as though both things meant nothing to him. And from the stern way the man carried himself, Beam imagined they truly did mean nothing to him at all, despite the great lengths that had been put into preparing them.

 Chapter 144: The Soldiers - Part 6

    With a single quick movement, he swung his leg back over the side of his horse, hoisting himself into the saddle.


    "About turn. We proceed to the east to make camp," the captain said. His orders were repeated by another louder soldier under hismand, and soon the whole army was once again moving as one, snaking back along the road that they hade, before splitting off towards the east.


    It was only then that Beam saw the many supply wagons the men had brought with them,ing out over the horizon, dragged by oxen, heading to the same spot in the east that Captain Lombard had marked out.


    Greeves sighed with relief as soon as Lombard disappeared out of sight. "I knew nobility would be a pain in the arse to deal with ¨C they always are ¨C but to think he''d be that bad," heined, before sinking back into his seat at the table. A roast chicken was sat steaming in front of him, and he eyed it for a second in thought, before tearing off a leg and biting into it.


    The Elder shook his head in distaste. "That food is not for you," the old man said.


    "No? Well, that fucker certainly doesn''t want it. Seems to me that either I clean it off or the birds will," Greeves said, not slowing down his eating at all. He saw that the rest of them were still standing around staring. He pointed at Beam and Judas and then nodded at the chicken. "You want some Judas?


    What about youd?"


    Judas broke out into a simple smile. "Go on then," he grinned, reaching in with a mucky paw to grab his share of the chicken.


    "Fuckin'' hell, look at the state of your hands. You been digging graves or something? Naw don''t touch it when you''re in that much of a state ¨C I''ll tear a bit off for you," Greeves said,ining, before tearing off another of the chicken''s legs and handing it to Judas.


    "Thanks boss," Judas grinned, before taking a hearty bite.


    Their little disy was subject to the attention of the entire vige, as everyone still stood stock still, not daring to move. And yet the merchant sat there, the sweat on his brow, a frustrating look in his eyes, as he heartily dug into all the food he''d prepared for the captain. It was he that managed to break the spell of the crowd as they finally remembered to breathe.


    Some people echoed the Elder''s words of disgust, whilst other peopleughed, saying that it''d be a shame to let such good food go to waste ¨C and that they fancied a bit as well. Greeves ignored them, and the murmurings of the crowd only continued to raise in volume, until people were well and truly freed from their trance and they began urgently discussing what had just urred.


    "Mm, you sure you don''t want any,d?" Greeves asked, as he and Judas quickly polished off the rest of the chicken, before moving onto the mountain of baked potatoes that had been prepared. "Judas, why don''t you go and fetch that wine, eh? It''s a nice bottle, be a shame to let it go to waste just ''cos that stuck up bastard doesn''t know what pleasure is."


    "Nah, I''m not particrly hungry," Beam said, as he watched the two men burn their way through the table of food.


    "You''re a foolish man, Greeves," the Elder said. "If the captain hears you talking like that, he''ll have every right to kill you ¨C such is the way things work in the city."


    But Greeves just shrugged. "I''m subject to the man''s whims anyway. Since it seems there''s no pleasing him, I''m not gonna bother. May as well take what I please."


    Beam had to admire the guts that Greeves had in the strangest of ces. But Beam figured it was less bravery, and more that he hated someone telling him what to do. There was no way a man as ambitious as Greeves could settle for being beneath anyone.


    "Well, if we''re done here, I''m going to leave," Beam said, stretching. Some of the vigers were already beginning to filter back to their homes. He saw N''s red hair through the crowd as she moved away with her family. She must have felt Beam''s gaze, for she turned back to wave to him. Beam nodded in return.


    "Please yourself,d. I promised you a few silvers for this, didn''t I? Since nothing happened, what''s say we put that down to half, mm?" Greeves said.


    "Yeah, no. It''s a pity about the captain stealing half of your profits on the supplies you brought, but that''s just how it goes, don''t take it out on me," Beam said, already starting to walk away.


    "Hah¡­ You better keep that other stuffing! That''s one of the few threads of profit that''s keeping me afloattely. If any more of them get severed, I''m going to be in the shits," Greeves called after him.


    Beam merely held up a hand in farewell as he left. He felt the Elder''s gaze on his back as he went, along with the coldness of his soulless attendant, but Beam did not turn. Instead, he broke into a jog ¨C he wanted to catch a glimpse of the army setting up camp, if he could, if only out of interest.


    The days that followed were days of much progress for Beam and his associates. N worked hard with her hunting, whilst Greeves worked  his underlings hard, making as much profit as he could from the soldiers'' arrival. Beam, for his part, looked to get stronger.


    In the mornings, he was drawn to the mountain river. That ce where, just a short time ago, he''d absolutely hated to be when the coldness of dawn was in the air. But since it was in such a ce that he had found the inspiration he needed to defeat the hobgoblin, his opinion of it changed.

 Chapter 145: Progress - Part 1

    Even though things now were getting colder, and the cloudy skies threatened to snow, and the mornings nketed the ins in frost, Beam would still wake up at the same time every day, along with his master, and he''d meditate in the cold water, looking for further insights into his progress.


    For indeed, now it was his progress ¨C it was his ideas that were driving him forward. Along with giving him the responsibility to protect the vige, Dominus had said something else.


    "If you wish to reach the highest of peaks, you must learn which routes to choose yourself, as I did. My role as your teacher is merely to guide you in doing that. You''ve improved your strength, your speed and your martial skill under my tutge ¨C but the true progress came by your own hand. Since you have seen such a thing yourself, I need say no more," Dominus told him.


    "But even if I need toe up with the ideas myself, you''ll still guide me in my training, won''t you?" Beam asked, anxious to be suddenly thrown out in the cold.


    "I will observe you, and I will offer advice when needed. But outside of your duties, I will no longer make you do anything. You may train your marital skill when you wish, and you may run when you wish, or you may do something else entirely. Those decisions will be left up to you," Dominus told him.


    "Does that mean¡­ you won''t spar with me anymore?" Beam frowned. The true boon of having someone of Dominus'' strength as a master came from the sparring. Every time Beam fought, he had to confront that massive overwhelming wall that was Dominus'' true power, and each time, he came away with some new insight, though often it was only a small thing.


    Dominus was the means by which Beam could test whether he had truly gotten stronger or not.


    Dominus grinned at that. "I''m d you value my tutge so strongly, but now you will need to discuss such ns with me in advance. You must tell me when you wish to spar the day before. For I am busier than I was."


    "Busier? Has somethinge up?" If it was something enough to make someone like Dominus busy, it had to be quite a challenging task indeed, or so Beam thought.


    But Dominus just shook his head, wearing the same smile. "Actually, it is your fault boy. Just as you have inflicted a change in N and the merchant, I''ve started to get the faintest glimpse of a path that I might too might walk."


    Beam tilted his head, not entirely understanding. Dominus had guessed that he wouldn''t, so he merely shrugged and continued to exin.


    "The Pandora Goblin poison runs thick through my veins, as I''m sure you know. If I exert more than ten percent of my true strength, my hold on it loosens, and I will die," Dominus said bluntly.


    Beam nched in horror at the promation. Of course, he knew that Dominus was in a dire state, for his master was very forthright about it. He sought to get Beam into a solid enough position that he could continue to grow without him. But even knowing all that, it hadn''t truly clicked just how much the poison was affecting him.


    "Come on, don''t make such a face. You know as well as I do that I am lucky to be alive after having fought with the thing. Many were not so lucky. And yet, for me, life itself was the problem. I had very much intended to die there, on that day¡­ And yet I lived. To find purpose in that was a struggle.


    I failed to find it. That was, until, udia, our Goddess of Progress, intervened," he said. "Now I see it. Through both you and that chance encounter provided by udia. The way forward. The way out of stagnation.


    The way that has been closed to me for many years ¨C a chance to improve my de."


    Beam widened his eyes in surprise. "You''re going to get even stronger, master?"


    Dominus nodded. "Such has been the purpose of my life, boy. I gave everything for this. I thought I had given too much. And yet, now, in these final few months of life, I''ve been granted a new insight, and I intend to hone it. Though I cannot use all my power ¨C I can still train.


    I can still attempt to surpass what I once was," he said, with a smile that contained all the joy in the world.


    Beam was shook by such an expression. The look of a man who had resolutely epted death, who was well aware that his time was fast approaching, and yet who knew just how to spend his final days on earth. Beam hadn''t reached such a level yet, and so a wave of sadness washed over him.


    "If I''m careful, I''d suppose I have around a year," Dominus mused. "In that time, I will surpass my old limits, and then I will entrust the fruits of thatbour to you. You''ve given me purpose, boy, and for that, I thank you," the old knight said bowing his head.


    Beam didn''t know what to say. He didn''t want Dominus to die. He didn''t even want to think about it. And yet the old knight looked so excited, so content, that it felt wrong to Beam not to share in his happiness. Beam tried a smile of his own. "Well, I guess I''ll get stronger too along the way, so I can better understand what you attempt to pass onto me."


    Dominus'' smile only widened at that, and he nodded with enthusiasm. "You had better get much stronger indeed then, boy!" He said with augh. "We march down the same path here. We must both ponder ways in which we can push forward. If you need my advice for your training, as I said, I will still give it to you, but now is the time for you to hone the weapon that is your mind."

 Chapter 146: Progress - Part 2

    So Dominus had said, and Beam had taken the words very much to heart, especially given the context in which they were delivered in. There could be no weightier topic for him than the loss of that which was important.


    Beam''s training began anew under such foundations. He swam in that cold mountain river in the mornings, meditating in search of new ideas. Then, before the day began, he would carry out his responsibility that Dominus had saddled him with ¨C the responsibility of protecting the vige.


    He raced through the mountains on this day to carry out that responsibility. It had been two days since the army made their camp, their tents a short distance away from the forest, so that they could keep an eye on it, but also so they wouldn''t be too vulnerable to ambushes.


    The monsters were growing ever more frequent, just as Dominus had said. Beam had only been running for a short while, and yet he already found signs of yet more goblins. There were w marks in the trees and desecrated animal corpses, the pieces of which were smeared all over the trail that Beam walked.


    Beam could hear the sounds of their feasting from a distance, and he did not slow his pace as he drew his sword to approach. He burst through the trees before they could sense him, and the pack turned around to confront him in surprise, blood around their mouths as they tore into the corpse of a bear.


    They hissed in irritation, their surprise quickly giving way to anger, just as it normally did, and the first of them lunged at Beam in a way that he had grown quite familiar with ¨C its teeth going for his throat.


    Here, Beam tried something new. As he pondered how to develop his swordsmanship, and how to make best use of what he had learned in the battle with the hobgoblin and the skill that he had acquired, he once again returned to the idea of misdirection.


    Whilst it hadn''t been a particrly useful style in the battle with the hobgoblin itself, for Beamcked the speed to properly take advantage of it, Beam still couldn''t set the idea from his mind and he sought to polish it more, as he pursued something greater.


    With this idea in mind, as the goblin lunged, Beam tried one of his new ideas. It was more footwork than anything else ¨C a feint merely born out of the movement of his feet. He''d feinted stepping backwards, but in truth, it was his only back foot that moved and his torso along with it ¨C he''d kept his front foot anchored in ce.


    Seeing that he''d taken a step back, the goblin scrambled to adjust ordingly, reaching out with its primitive spear to try and take him in the neck. But such an overextension weakened itself.


    Beam''s feint of a step backward had caught it entirely off guard, and it was with the greatest ease that he pulled forward with his front foot, closing the distance between himself and his enemy, cutting it in half from shoulder to hip.


    The goblins went silent at the disy. Many times before Beam had encountered them, and he was beginning to understand them, if only somewhat. They were intelligent creatures ¨C at leastpared to the other monsters and animals. But they were easily tricked.


    Something like footwork, that merely made movements more efficient, but yet gave the illusion of greater power ¨C they had a profound effect on the goblins. It was like a magnifying ss held over Beam, making him appear far more menacing than his strength was.


    But even though they were wary, they did not give way to fear quite yet. They needed to be pushed over the edge a little more for that.


    Beam made use of their hesitation and closed the distance between himself and the enemy, keeping his sword close to him in an attempt to hide the full extent of his range, so that he might keep the goblins off guard.


    It was little tricks like that which made him truly appreciate the value of experience. They were not necessarily increases in skill ¨C though Beam liked to think they were ¨C yet they had a profound effect.


    The goblin Beam had targeted misjudged the reach of his sword because of the way Beam kept it close, and now, as Beam allowed his arms to extend, it closed what seemed to be an impossible gap, as though Beam had made the sword longer and it cleaved another goblin in two, ending its life.


    Tricks like this, that would also be effective against humans ¨C at least for gaining a small advantage ¨C absolutely shattered the confidence of the goblins.


    These creatures, that to Beam, had once seemed like the incarnation of evil, like immutable killing machines that no one could stop, like creatures that felt no fear whatsoever, creatures that merely existed to kill humans. Yet, when confronted with what they believed was overwhelming strength, a battle that they surely could not win, they crumbled to fear all the same.


    The remaining goblins began to scatter in fear, having borne witness to what they thought was an invincible magic. It was then that Beam''smand rang out.


    "Kneel," he demanded, and the goblins that were racing away at full speed felt their knees buckle, unable to resist that attack on their soul when they were at their weakest. They copsed to the floor. Beam was on them before they could even think.


    He killed two just like that, before the others were able to scramble shakily to their feet, having recovered control of their bodies, but whilst still being unable to function well enough to sprint away.


    Beam dealt with them just as easily cutting them down in clean cuts. He wore a grim smile as he cut thest of them down.


    He''d realised as he went about executing him, that he was unconsciously cutting them in a way so that the corpse would be more presentable. After all, Greeves had pointed out which sections were more valuable than others ¨C such as the head ¨C so it would be a waste to ruin them. Instead of splitting the skulls in two, he would make sure to merely behead them instead.

 Chapter 147: Progress - Part 3

    Yet, catching onto such a habit, even covered in goblin blood as he was, was enough to cause Beam to smile. A grim sort of a smile. To think, that the difference in strength between him and goblins now was so vast that he could kill them in whatever way he felt was best.


    Beam breathed out a sigh, steadying his breathing once more, as he reflected on the battle. His skill ¨C that was how he was thinking of it for now, for he knew not what else to call it ¨C was slightly more effective than it was before. Itsted longer than an instance, maybe closer to a full second. He figured such a thing was likely down to the magnitude of fear that he had inflicted.


    These goblins had been, after all, pretty shaken. They''d routed as a group. That was enough topletely shatter their morale permanently. It was as though the fear of multiple goblins together created a sought of resonance, increasing it in magnitudepared to what it would be if it was just a single goblin by its lonesome.


    But he wondered if that was not the only reason their fear had been increased. He dared to hope that it might have been a result of his improved swordsmanship ¨C even though he found it hard to dare to call him that, because as far as a normal swordsman was concerned, these were mere tricks.


    He decided to hope that things were indeed at least a little improved, but he couldn''t help feel somewhat dissatisfied, for he knew he was still missing something, he just didn''t know what that something was yet. He wasn''t even sure if these techniques that he was practicing would work on prey more intelligent than a goblin, like a human.


    But at such a thought, he merely shrugged to himself, deciding that it was the progress that counted, and as long as there were incremental improvements, he was going in the right direction.


    Mere misdirection was not the end result, after all. He had something in his mind that was greater than that. An idea that incorporated the teachings of his master into, the fluidity andck of wasted movement that characterised a master swordsman. But he knew he wasn''t there yet ¨C indeed, he was far from it.


    He finished cleaning up his corpses, pulling them together. He knew that if he got the entire goblin corpses to Greeves, he''d get far more coin than delivering just the heads, it was just a problem of how to get them there.


    He beheaded the goblins just as he usually would, gathering their heads into a sack. But he found himself unwilling to burn the corpses like he usually might.


    "I''m stronger than I was before, after all. Dragging six or seven corpses like this along isn''t much of a bother," he mused to himself. "¡­But then it''s not like I can go through the vige with them, can I? Or can I?"


    He was still undecided on such an idea. His master had warned about the dangers of drawing attention to himself before, but despite him not exactly desiring it, the attention was continuing to mount up. Just the other day he had been stood on the stage with the vige leaders, after all ¨C if only as a background character. And Captain Lombard had noted him too.


    Beam grimaced as he recalled such a stare. "Mm¡­ I guess at least for now, I definitely don''t want any attention from that captain," he mused, putting a stop to any ideas of dragging them through town. "I guess I''ll hide them somewhere for now and then work something out with Greeves," he decided.


    Just after making his decision, he heard the sound of voices in the distance.


    He paused to listen to them for a second, before going back to work. It wasn''t especially umon for him to meet people in the forest whilst he was out.


    The majority of the monsters were appearing higher in the mountains, where most hunters tended not to go, but that didn''t mean that there were never any hunters there at all. And, more recently, it was the soldiers who''d been venturing that high up.


    Beam had seen them once or twice from a distance, doing the rounds in parties of ten under the orders of their captain. It seemed Lombard was exceedingly cautious of more Yarmdon being holed up in the mountains, after that was the prevailing theory as to why so many had managed to make it this deep into allied territory.


    From the sounds of their boots ¨C and the number of them ¨C Beam was able to determine that it was indeed the approach of soldiers.


    He sighed to himself, having to pause his work halfway through. He quickly stashed the rest of the goblin corpses behind a rock, before he jumped up and hid himself in the thick branches of an old fir tree.


    The soldiers came by not long after.


    "Oh, shit, you see that? That''s more goblin blood again," one of them pointed out. Beam frowned, wondering if he should start doing something to wash the blood away in future. But then he figured it was unavoidable ¨C especially when the goblins were so close to the trail, as this lot were.


    "Huh¡­ That''s a lot of it as well," another man said, as the rest of the soldiers gathered round. "How many do you reckon, Gareth? 5 or 6?"


    "From the blood, I''d probably go 7 or 8," Gareth said back.


    "Heh, you just love pretending to be right, don''t ya? If I''d have said four, you''d have said five," the man said back.


    "No, if you''d have said four, I''d have called you stupid, and then said 7 or 8," Gareth said back.


    "Tsch, whatever," the man said in reply, clearly annoyed, but unable to think of a solideback.


    Beam could see all of them in his spot in the tree, though his own face was obscured by the many branches that stood his way. All the soldiers wore their full armour, just as they had the first day that they had marched into the vige, with lid helmets on their heads and chainmail over their torsos and thick boots on their feet.

 Chapter 148: Progress - Part 4

    They sped their spears in their hands as well. Beam thought such weapons to be unsuited forbat amongst the trees and yet they carried them anyway. He supposed that was why they all had arge knife sheathed at their waists without exception ¨C so that they might have the choice between range and manoeuvrability depending on what the situation demands.


    "So, what do we do about it? The other patrols have said they''ve been seeing these same patches of goblin blood popping up as well, amongst other things. Apparently they found a few giant spider legs left behind the other day as well," another man said. "Clearly something is out here hunting them."


    "Aye, but I''m of the same opinion as the captain ¨C as long as it''s hunting them and not us, then it''s doing us a favour and we should be thankful for it," came a reply.


    "Well, if that''s what the captain says¡­ Then I guess we''ll just leave it, huh?"


    "He also said to report any information on whatever it is, should we catch sight of it. ''Cos we still don''t know for certain whether it''s friend or foe. Best we keep our guards up as we''re wandering."


    "Whatever it is, being able to ughter the bastards one-sidedly without leaving any bodies behind ¨C it must be quite a threatening thing. Can''t say I''d want to be the fucker getting caught out by it."


    "Too right," another agreed, as the party turned to continue their patrol. "Let''s just get out of here as quickly as we can. No point provoking it if you don''t have to, y''know. Leave the information gathering to someone else ¨C I''m getting shivers just standing here."


    Their voices soon faded into the distance as they chatted away. Beam sighed, watching them go, realizing that they were considering him to be a monster.


    Slowly, he got down from his spot in the tree, taking great care to make sure that the soldiers weren''t about to backtrack and catch him out. When he was quite sure that they were gone, he shifted the goblin corpses to a location that they''d be harder to find and he grasped the sack full of heads to take with him.


    The day had only just begun, after all. Even if the soldiers were considering him to be a monster, in Beam''s mind, he wasn''t quite there yet. There was still work to be done. His morning patrolling had gone well, with him being able to deal with so many goblins at once, but now it was time to get on with the rest of his training.


    He considered the results of his skirmish more as he ran back to camp, his sack full of goblins heads in his hand. Whilst he was satisfied with the way the goblins reacted to his new techniques and he was pleased to be able to beat them so easily, he still felt that things werecking somewhat. He was quite sure that such techniques would not be so effective against stronger opponents.


    And yet knowing that, it wasn''t obvious to him yet just how he might improve. He''d spent the past few days urgently considering it. Though he''d made progress and he felt like he was on the verge ofing up with something, he wasn''t quite there yet and he was continually struck by the urge to experiment and try new things out.


    Next on his agenda for the morning was one such experiment.


    He ran into camp, where Dominus was just finishing up thest of his breakfast. Beam figured that he would be going off to start his own training soon, just as he usually did. Dominus greeted him as he arrived.


    "Another sessful hunt, was it?" He said, nodding at the sack that Beam was carrying.


    Beam nodded. "The goblins aren''t up to much anymore."


    "Heh, getting cocky, are we?" Dominusughed. "Well, that''s fine I suppose ¨C but you''re going to need to seek out something stronger so you can keep yourself humble."


    "I wish there were stronger things for me to hunt around here," Beam mused.


    "I''m sure the vigers don''t," Dominus said. "Don''t forget, you have the responsibility of keeping them safe now. I will not forgive any cking in this regard. However¡­ despite what the vigers want, it would seem that things are only continuing to grow worse. It would seem your wish will soon be granted."


    "It will?" Beam asked curiously, throwing his sack to the ground, before drawing his sword and fetching some wood as he prepared for the next bit of his morning training.


    "Indeed. I won''t give too much away, since it''s meant to be your job to do this investigating ¨C but there''s been a shift in things. Whatever is causing this explosion in the monster poption, it''s only getting worse. New creatures are flooding in and the old ones seem as though they''re getting stronger," Dominus said gravely as he sipped his tea.


    Beam looked up from his task in excitement. "Really!? I''m going to be able to get stronger much faster then," he said with a grin.


    "Perhaps ¨C but you will also have to be working harder. If any of these monsters leak from the upper forest down into the lower forest where your friend is hunting, things will be looking nasty, won''t they?" Dominus said.


    Mentioning something that Beam cared about finally put things into perspective for Beam." Ah¡­ N," he murmured, biting his lip. "The soldiers will help out somewhat, I suppose¡­ But if the monsters are getting stronger, I don''t know how good they''ll be¡­"


    "Indeed, you''re going to have to think about it. Better yet, get to the bottom of all this before someone gets hurt," Dominus said, giving him onest piece of advice as he drank thest of his tea and stood up. "Well, I''m off to train. Good luck boy. Hopefully udia blesses both of us with some nice progress today, eh?"

 Chapter 149: Progress - Part 5

    Beam nodded in reply. "Hopefully."


    With Dominus gone, he finished tying the blocks of wood to the end of his sword and he stood up.


    There were only two small pieces tied there now, towards the very end of it, but with the length of his de, those pieces grew much heavier. He began to do his practice swings with those blocks of wood on the end.


    This was another part of his experimentation, as he sought to find the style that wouldplement his newfound power most. He knew that if the enemy felt the slightest inclination of fear, then things would begin to work in his favour.


    He was working on his style of trickery, to surprise the opponent and catch them off guard, and now, topliment that, he decided that it might be worth working on his strength.


    His logic was thus: if he struck strongly and managed to buckle the enemy in a single blow, what was more likely to create fear than that? He thought it to be a good attempt at an overwhelming disy of might ¨C to trick the enemy into thinking that the gap between his skill and theirs was bigger than it actually was.


    So far, this was the best method he hade up with for increasing the strength of his strikes. But it was far from perfect. As he swung the de up and down, the wood blocks shifted, threatening to fall off. Not only that, the new unbnce of the sword made it feel more like he was wielding an axe.


    He figured it would be better to keep the bnce of the sword the same, whilst increasing the weight of it overall, to make it more applicable to his own swordsmanship, but he wasn''t quite sure how.


    With ack of ideas, this is what he had settled on for the time being, in the hopes that experimenting with it a little more might lead him to something better.


    After finishing up with that, he went through and lifted the stones all the way from one to five, managing to lift the fifth and heaviest one ten times quitefortably. That has been his routine for thest couple of days.


    Even though Dominus had given Beamplete freedom to choose his own training, Beam was reluctant to abandon the methods that Dominus had taught him entirely. At the very least, even if he didn''t aim to actively progress in them, he wanted to keep them at a baseline level whilst he worked on everything else.


    With that, hepleted the first of the things he required of himself in the morning. After that, he jogged towards the vige with the sack of goblin heads in his head. Though there was a bit of green blood leaking out of them, he figured they were at least a lot less inconspicuous than hauling the entire corpses.


    He tended to go into the vige daily now. Since the soldiers hade, such a thing seemed far more worthwhile. Beam could go into the town, collect his money from Greeves and at the same time he could also collect information. It fascinated him to have a trained army so close and whenever he got the opportunity, he would look towards the encampment to see what they were up to.


    He did that very thing now, just as he came out the treeline. He slowed from a run down towards a walk and looked towards where the soldiers were camped.


    There was a ring of twenty tents, all of them round, with pointed reviews. They were made from a waxed canvas material that made them seem shiny when they were wet and they were covered in broad stripes, alternating between blue and white.


    In the centre of that ring of twenty tents was another tent, bigger than the rest, which Beam could only guess served as Lombard''s own personality quarters.


    Aside from just soldiers and tents, there were the supplies and servants that they had brought with them. Beam guessed that there weren''t many servants, for he only saw a few tents ¨C of considerably poorer quality than the rest.


    He also saw ten horses tied closer to the centre of the camp, with five wagons to go with them and big towers of boxed supplies.


    As Beam watched, he saw the soldiers currently on duty guarding. They marched around the camp at regr intervals, looking off toward the horizon, over the vast ins, searching for any sign of the Yarmdon raiders. But of course, as of yet, there were none.


    Only a few men stood guard around the camp, keeping an eye on its perimeter. Other soldiers patrolled the perimeter of the vige itself, with the main focus being towards the west and towards the forest. Beam had seen them practicing the signals one day that warned of attack.


    It seemed that the n was to blow a loud horn ¨C such a thing could be heard from miles away. There was also a signal fire that they nned to light, just in case for whatever reason, the horn didn''t work. There were several such signal fires scattered throughout the forest ¨C fires that of course the soldiers had built.


    They were patrolling the mountains quite regrly, sending parties of ten men deep within it at regr points in a day.


    Those that were not patrolling were training and Beam saw Captain Lombard leading them often. He would barkmands, forcing them to engage in mock battles, continually practicing their group coordination skills.


    That''s exactly what they were doing that morning, as Beam looked out towards the camp. Before he knew it, his walking had slowed to aplete halt and he was staring off towards the camp a distance away, just in time to see an officer bark amand, causing the whole army to drop back into a menacing looking spear wall.


    "Hm¡­" Beam mused to himself, wondering what the captain was up to. He did not have to wonder such a thing for long, for a party of eleven soon broke from the forest''s treeline as Beam stood watch. They chose a different route to the one the hunters used ¨C one that led more directly to their camp.

 Chapter 150: Progress - Part 6

    At the front of that party, Beam could see Lombard marching stoically, dragging the corpses of several goblins behind him by a rope. The other men with him were simrly well encumbered by corpses, though none were carrying quite as many as he, apparentlycking the strength.


    Beam felt his mouth all open as he counted the amount they''d in. There must have been twenty corpses in total. Goblins and giant spiders and then another creature that Beam didn''t recognize.


    Lombard must have felt him watching, even though he was such a distance away, for he sharply turned his head and locked eyes with Beam, pausing his march a moment as he stared.


    Beam stared back for just a second. He saw Lombard''s eyes flicker to the sack that Beam was carrying and then back to him.


    Slowly, trying to appear as casual as possible, Beam turned away from him and continued his walk into the vige, trying to pretend he didn''t feel the set of eyes that were boring straight into his back.


    Only when he reached the first set of houses was he able to properly rx again.


    He realized something as he walked away. "Even Lombard was bringing back the corpses of the goblins¡­ They must be pretty valuable."


    Such were his musings. If even a knight ¨C someone who Beam assumed was paid fairly well ¨C saw value in the corpses of goblins, enough to bring so many back himself, perhaps they were worth even more than what Greeves was giving to him? Dominus had said such a thing in the past, but at the time, Beam had been happy to be getting any money at all, since he was so used to it.


    Now, there was that 50 gold mark that he needed to hit. He was doing the best he could to avoid taking a loan from Greeves, for he knew what the merchant was like ¨C nothing good would evere from giving the man power over him.


    He resolved to ask Greeves about the prices as soon as he saw him.


    As he neared the marketce, he noticed just how busy the streets were. The air was cold with the approaching winter, and the vigers were well wrapped up in their winter coats already, fighting the biting wind as it swept over the t ins, down from over the top of the ck Mountains.


    Winter was not the only reason that the market was so busy, of course. It was the influx of soldiers. For a small vige like theirs, with a poption of just a few hundred, the addition of a mere one hundred men was enough to cause a rather sizable shift in things.


    As Beam entered the marketce, he saw a few of those soldiers amongst the crowd of people bartering at stalls. He supposed that Lombard must have been giving them breaks from their duties in shifts, so as to not leave the camp undefended at any point during the day.


    The soldiers carried themselves with an arrogance that could be felt even from a distance. Beam could see the vigers eyeing them warily whenever one got too close, and the soldiers seemed to love that wariness, that fear. Since they spent their entire lives following orders, it was rare for them, men of the serving ss, to be able to unt their power, and they took full advantage of it.


    Beam could see one of the soldiers leaning against a butcher''s stall as he sat there with a smug look on his face, trying to coax the butcher into giving him a better price than he already was.


    There was a long queue behind that soldier that he was holding up with his antics, and dissatisfied expressions sat on the faces of the vigers who were forced to wait, as the butcher stood there with a twitching eyebrow, trying to do everything within his power to get the soldier to move on.


    Amongst that same crowd, Beam caught sight of N ¨C she was rather easy to find, especially at this time of day. Beam saw her with her two adult attendants following her around like puppies, the very image of loyalty.


    Their transition had been an abrupt one. Shocked at the amount of meat the little girl was able to bring in with her skills, they quickly realized it was within their best interests to stick by her and gratefully ept all the money that she was sending their way for their services.


    The butchers had much the same attitude. The man that Beam had seen her form a deal with had stuck by her, true to his word. He took on all the meat that she was giving him with gratitude, knowing that he had an endless stream of customers now that the soldiers had moved in.


    N was not the only one profiting from the soldiers'' arrival. Greeves was doing quite well for himself too. He was standing outside his house when Beam approached. There was a contended grin on his face as he kept his arms folded and watched the proceedings.


    Greeves called out to him, noticing his approach. "What a sight that is, ehd? I''ve never seen the market so bustling in all my days. That there," he said with a point of his finger, "that''s making me a lot of money."


    "Which stalls do you own?" Beam asked.


    "Those few there, but it''s not just the stalls filling my purse. Every single sale here, they all serve to feed me up nice and fat. All these merchants know to pay a percentage to the man that keeps business booming, to the man that holds it all together," Greeves said, without a trace of irony or remorse in his voice.


    Beam looked at him with a raised eyebrow. "You''re a pretty terrible person, y''know."


    Greevesughed heartily at that. "Aye, maybe, but it works, so I''m not going to stop. Besides, it''s not like I''m picking on the weak here, am I? It''s just a normal tax, y''know. You shouldn''t have a problem with it."


    "Still seems pretty shady to me¡­" Beam said, though he couldn''t say quite why it was.

 Chapter 151: Progress - Part 7

    "That means I''m doing things properly then," Greeves said. "Those more goblin heads in the sack?"


    Beam nodded. "About that. I want double for them."


    Greeves froze his hand midair as he reached for the bag and he narrowed his eyes at Beam. Beam could almost see the gears turn in the merchant''s head as he worked out the profit and how much he would be losing if he agreed to double. "Mm, can''t do that. Let''s say, out of respect for my young little associate here, I give you an extra half as much on top, mm? That''s fair?"


    "If you agree to send someone to collect the corpses in future, then I''m in agreement," Beam said.


    Greeves gave a toothy grin at that. "We''ll make a merchant of you yet. ''Bout time you started sending some of the bodies my way. I''d hate to think that all that good money was merely left there to rot. You speak to Judas and agree on a spot and I''ll send my men over to pick them up at the end of every day. Then I''ll pay you when I see you."


    "Works for me. It''ll have to be a spot in the woods though," Beam said.


    Greeves nodded. "Fair enough. Seems even you''re a bit worried about Lombard, mm?"


    As they talked, the two of them watched the crowd together. When one of the soldiers dared to approach N, the two of them noticed it at the same time.


    Even from where they were standing, they could hear the soldier shout out to her. "Oy! Where are you off to then,ss?"


    N looked at him for a moment and then merely turned and continued walking away. She had two rabbits in her hand and her hunting attendants were carrying a deer together just behind her. Beam saw the two of them nch as their employer showed such tant disregard for the soldier.


    Beam could see the soldier fume as well, going red from the rage.


    "Where are you off to, I said?!" The man marched up behind her, daring to grab her and pull her back by the shoulder.


    Beam saw her say something back in reply, but he didn''t hear what. Whatever it was, it mustn''t have been good, for her two hunters carrying the deer behind her looked like their souls had left their body, whilst the soldier was stood stunned, rooted to the spot.


    "¡­This doesn''t look good," Beam said as he watched.


    Greeves smiled. "Fiery little thing, brings herself no end of trouble with that attitude of hers. But you don''t need to get involved yet ¨C she''s better than she looks."


    This time, when N turned to continue walking away, the soldier didn''t follow. Instead, he stood rooted to the spot for a few solid moments, as though staring into the void, and then he merely shook his head and started walking in the opposite direction.


    Greeves looked at Beam with a grin. "Told ya, didn''t I? She knows how to stand up for herself, she does. At first, I thought it was a bit cute seeing her go around doing business, y''know, kinda like seeing a kid ying house. But she''s the devil, that woman, mark my words. Give her a few years, and she''ll be a force to be reckoned with."


    "She''s doing that well?" Beam asked in surprise. He was looking at things through a different lens, for he knew the burden N was carrying, that she was fighting to repay her family''s debt to the vige Elder. He worried that such a thing would be getting to her, but apparently, it was quite the opposite, it was only spurring her forward.


    "Oh, aye. There was a big fuss a couple of days ago ¨C some of the bigger hunters came over, looking for a fight with her, and me and Judas were standing here watching, just like you and me are," Greeves said. "Those hunters she''s got working for her, I don''t know what she''s done, but by god are they loyal now.


    Might have been the threats Judas made, or it might be the money she''s making them or the way she''s treating them, but they stood their ground against ten men and the butcher came over as well, was a proper staredown. But they backed off in the end, she chased them all away. Some of em'' are even wanting to work for her."


    Beam''s smile grew as he listened to the story. "I guess I don''t know to worry about her, huh?"


    "Naw, ''course not. It''s them you should be worried about. From their perspective, some girl just crawled out of the woodwork and now she''s showing everyone up. It''s a real kick in the teeth for them, after they''ve put their lives into it. But it''s'' just the way the gods work. Shit is unfair from the start," Greeves said.


    "Ya just gotta spit on the unfairness and take what you want anyway, by whatever means necessary."


    "You have to do what you can," Beam agreed. "Though there are some lines that you shouldn''t cross. How are things with Lombard?"


    Greeves shrugged. "They could be going better with the man himself. He seems to look down on pleasure, he does ¨C narrow-minded, that''s what that is. But as uptight as he might be, he''s not a fool. I had a chat with him a few days ago and he''s agreed to let my whores in his camp on a night to do their business. He gets to keep his men''s morale up and I get to get my coin up, it''s working out so far.


    Though, as you''ve seen, they''re arrogant fuckers these soldiers. They keep pushing things."


    Beam nodded grimly. "The vigers don''t look like they can take much more."


    "Aye, and that damn old Elder is nowhere to be seen. It''s meant to be his job keeping things in line, keeping things civil, but I haven''t seen the old bastard since the weing ceremony," Greeves said. "He''s probably thinking about running away, by the looks of him. He''s got evil in him that old man does, let me tell you.


    Speaking as a man of the darkness myself, he''s got the look of someone who''s gone even deeper than me."

 Chapter 152: Progress - Part 8

    "I can believe it. You don''t have any thoughts of escape? What if the Yarmdon attack?" Beam asked.


    "Then I''ll pay you to keep me safe, eh? What do you think? You ever save my life, and I''ll give you fifty gold on the spot," Greeves said. Beam looked at him in surprise. Greeves caught the look. "You didn''t think I knew about the fifty gold, did ya not?


    C''mon now, I would hope you thought a bit more of me, y''know? I may not be able to swing a sword like you, or shoot a bow like the girl, but I have my weapons and I wield them well. And let me give you a bit of information for free ¨C it''s not only N the Elder has been asking for. He''s gone to other families as well. He''s already taken in two children as ves."


    The news came as a surprise to Beam and he felt his rage boil. Greeves saw the look in his eyes with a shudder. "A sore spot for you, eh? Can''t say I don''t understand, but not everyone sees things your way. Not even the parents objected ¨C debts a day. They know how it goes."


    Beam didn''t say anything. In response to his silence, Greeves could only sigh.


    The changes began sooner than anyone could have expected, as though the area for miles around had been surrounded in a barrier of great evil. It was as though the scorn of the gods had been localized in a single area, and slowly, everything began to fall apart.


    It started with the monster poption.


    Just as Dominus predicted, they were growing stronger, and at an rming rate. It was two dayster that Beam saw his first gorebeast ¨C a vicious hound-like creature, with three legs, one at the front and two at the back.


    The creatures dug burrows deep under the ground, using that front leg and its vicious ws as a spade. But it was above ground that they were truly menacing. Reaching speeds nearing that of a horse and with an agility across the mountainous terrain that rivalled that of a goat, they were indeed terrors.


    Before he saw the monsters themselves, Beam saw their effects.


    He was out on his normal morning patrol, following the same route that he always did, looking for anything that was out of the ordinary. But it was not a monster that day that attacked him, but rather, a bear.


    It came barrelling out of the undergrowth with a manic ferocity, closing in on Beam with foaming dripping from its wide-open jaw, as it headed straight for him, apparently intent on ttening him.


    Beam swiftly dodged out of the way. It would have been easy to end its life as it ran past, but Dominus had told Beam before of the importance of natural predators, and their ce in keeping the monster poption under control. Bears were one such creature.


    Yet this bear that would ordinarily have left him in the dust, knowing to fear human hunters, it turned round on him for a second charge.


    Beam looked around for a cub, figuring that he must have angered a mother bear and that she was merely protecting her child ¨C the bears were known to be fiercely overprotective, after all. But no matter where he looked, he could see no signs of the child. In fact, he realized that the bear was far too big to be a female and a momentter he confirmed that it was indeed a male.


    Thinking it odd that the creature was acting so aggressively, Beam dodged its attacks with a frown on his face, finding it more difficult than he would like to keep the creature at bay. He needed to slow it down somehow, but he had nothing but his sword and he didn''t want to cause it an injury that would affect its chances of survival.


    So he feigned instead, putting into practice that which he had been training recently. Alongside his old misdirection approach, he''d been training tond that one overpowering swing ¨C that single attack of overwhelming strength, making clear the difference between his opponent and himself.


    With a grand swing of his sword, he brought it down on the bear''s head at speed. The creature did not dodge ¨C it knew not to fear the de. But Beam had never intended to hit it with the de from the start. He brought the hilt of his sword down instead, hitting the bear hard in the nose.


    It roared in pain and retreated a few steps back.


    "Leave," Beam told it and the creature did.


    Beam sighed as he watched the massive ball of fluffy meat sprint away. It was only once it had turned around did Beam spot the wound on its hind leg. Blood dripped from it onto the dry earth ¨C a rather sizable chunk had been torn from it.


    At first, Beam assumed it to be the work of a goblin. Yet a moment''s pondering informed him that such a conclusion was erroneous. Though goblins were quick to bite things in that maniac manner that they had, even they would struggle to take off such a sizable chunk of meat from the bear, especially with the thick fur protecting the animal and its thick hide as well.


    Then he assumed wolves. Yet in all his time in the mountains, he had not seen a single wolf. Dominus assured him that there were still some roaming around, but he said they never came this far south, for fear of hunters who prized their fur.


    The image of a wolf certainly seemed to fit and it was the tentative conclusion he settled on whilst he assumed the rest of his patrol. Yet it did not take much longer until Beam''s path crossed yet another bear, this one also fleeing south, into the lower hunting grounds nearer the vige.


    This one was a mother bear and Beam spotted it from a distance away ambling along with its cub.

 Chapter 153: The Signs of Calamity - Part 1

    It sniffed the air at one point, appearing to catch his scent on the wind, but the fear seemed to be stronger in this one, and since Beam was such a distance away, it opted to continue running away instead, disappearing deep into the pine trees before Beam could get much closer.


    With the running of that second Bear, an ominous feeling began to set in for Beam, as he tried to work out what was happening. Wolves? It might have made sense in a single isted instance ¨C the wolves attempted to prey on a weakened bear, sending it running. But two separate instances twenty minutes apart and with no wolves in sight?


    It seemed rather odd to Beam, and now that he thought about it, there was nothing weak about the first bear. He doubted even a hungry wolf pack would risk attempting to attack it.


    He stood still, in the cold pre-winter air, pondering, as his breath misted up in front of him and he looked through the trees with searching eyes, his mind working all the while, searching for answers.


    Several deep breaths, in a world that was still. A scream pierced the silence.


    Beam''s hand was on his sword in an instant and he shot off his backfoot, darting towards the source of the noise.


    The wind rushed against his face as he ran and the thick roots of the undergrowth threatened to snag him. The noise came from further along the hunting trail, a path that Beam walked regrly on his patrols and yet rarely did he see anyone.


    Today, along that normally barren path, he saw a party of soldiers engaged in an intense battle with creatures that he had not seen before.


    A pack of vicious wolves¡­ Or so he assumed, until he saw that they each only had three legs ¨C and that their front leg was far thicker than it ought to be, with the foot being more like a hand than it was a paw, with dexterous looking toes that grabbed hold of the ground as it ran, effortlessly redirecting it.


    It was not only the hand that set it away from canines. It was the way the jaw moved. Even as Beam watched he saw one of the creatures dart in at an outrageous speed, opening its jaw far wider than a dog was meant to be able to, more like a snake than it was a hound.


    It mped those jaws shut around a soldier''s arm. Another scream rang out, but then a spear followed a momentter, punching a hole through the side of the gorebeast, leaving it in a pool of blood on the floor.


    "Reform the line! Don''t let them take our backs!" Came amanding shout. There were only ten soldiers and two ¨C as far as Beam could see ¨C were injured, with one enduring that bite on his arm and another hobbling along on a bitten leg. With only six gorebeast left alive, Beam assumed that they would manage.


    When they regained the line a momentter and another of the soldiers managed to skewer a leaping gorebeast through its stomach, Beam was quickly proved right. Cautiously, he began to withdraw, before the soldiers noticed him. He left the trail and entered the trees, unable to calm his pounding heart.


    Dominus had mentioned gorebeasts to him before, so at least he was forewarned. But for creatures of such might to exist within the forest so close to the vige. It sent a shiver down his spine. Individually, they were far stronger than a goblin, and as a pack, that might even have been able to take down a hobgoblin.


    There was no question about it. They were well and truly part of the stronger stock that Dominus had said would being the vige''s way.


    "What the hell is going on?" Beam mumbled to himself, as he stuck to the trees, whilst still doing his best to follow his normal patrol route. The soldiers were dealing with that pack of gorebeasts ¨C and that was good. But who was to say when the next lot would appear? They would not stay in the upper forest for long.


    It was a very short distance between them and where the vigers went to gather and hunt.


    If even a single one made it that far¡­ Beam shuddered to think about it. The soldiers were strong ¨C Beam had seen that. They easily dealt with goblins. Yet even they struggled against the gorebeasts. The vigers wouldn''t stand a chance. They''d be torn to pieces.


    Even running wouldn''t be an option.


    Yet gorebeasts weren''t the only thing that Beam had to worry about. The whole forest was going berserk at once. He felt the familiar chill in the air that came with the presence of goblins ¨C that little inclination of unnaturalness that warned him creatures made of darkness were nearby.


    He slowed his run to a jog, ncing through the trees once more. He still hadn''t sheathed his sword after the earlier attack, for he didn''t feel safe enough to. There was such danger in the air, it made the hairs on the back of his head stand up.


    An arrow flitted towards him, seemingly borne of nothing but fog. Beam spotted it and dodged it by the smallest of margins. It thudded into the tree behind him.


    "An arrow?" Beam murmured, his eyes wide open as he scanned the surroundings. He knew of no monsters that used arrows.


    But from the fog, he heard the familiar hissing and howling of goblins, that terrible orchestra of madness that yed wherever they walked. He dashed forward, using the trees as cover, intent on covering the distance between him and the enemy before they could unleash another surprise attack.


    Another arrow rushed past him as he ran, this one very nearly clipping the tip of his ear. He ducked out of the way. He took more note of the trajectory of the arrow this time ¨C it wasing from above. Whoever was firing it was amongst the trees.

 Chapter 154: The Signs of Calamity - Part 2

    Before he could think to root them out, though, the goblin foot soldiers barrelled into him.


    "Oof¡­" Beam rolled on the ground after being tossed through the air from a sudden impact. His head spun for a moment as he recovered his surroundings. The vicious point of the spear came at him before he could entirely figure out what was going on.


    Merely on instinct, he twisted and shed with his sword. There was a scream and the weapon fell to the floor, along with a pair of severed hands.


    Regaining his bearings, Beam saw what was screaming in front of him. It was the green skin of an enemy that he knew well. Just as he had suspected from the noises, it was indeed a goblin. It was the same height as the goblins he knew and of the same build. It was certainly no hobgoblin. And yet it was different all the same.


    Whilst the goblins he knew were rather poorly dressed, merely with fur scraps around their waists, this one sported something that more resembled clothes. Fur that had been cut and stitched together into a primitive sort of tunic hung from its shoulders, and there were even fur boots on its feet held together by some sort of cordage.


    Beam noted the horn on its head as well. A small horn to be sure, but a horn nheless. It reminded him of the evolved hobgoblin, for that was the only other goblin he had ever seen a horn quite like this on.


    He was only able to nce at it for a second longer, before the goblin''s screams from its severed arms grew tiresome and he dealt with it in a single effective sweep, beheading it cleanly.


    He sucked in a deep breath and acknowledged the rest of his surroundings. There were three more horned goblins in front of him, all of them wielding spears, crouched low and warily.


    Two arrows sped towards him as well, each from different directions. Beam dodged them, making note of the position of those that had fired them. That made five goblins.


    He turned his attention to the goblins in front of him first. As long as he knew where the arrows wereing from, he could deal with them at his leisure.


    The goblins hissed warily, holding their position with their spears extended outwards. Beam raised an eyebrow in surprise. It seemed the goblins'' intelligence had been improved in all areas. Though a basic tactic, it was a tactic that even the soldiers used, for it was effective. A spear wall like that was difficult to ovee without any sort of advanced manoeuvring.


    Already, they posed more trouble than their brethren, holding their position as they did, whilst archers peppered Beam from the sides. He twirled his sword, looking for the opening. He couldn''t help feeling his lips curl into a smile of excitement as he finally got the opportunity to properly test that which he had been learning.


    He lunged in with a striding step, as though to close the distance between them. But that was a mere feint. As the goblins jabbed their spears towards him, Beam once again skipped out of range, before diving in once more, this time from an angle. It was a disy of footwork that his pursuit of misdirection had taught him.


    With the goblins off bnce, aiming towards where he was before, he was able to set his feet just right and deliver a single overbearing swing, just as his pursuit of might had taught him. He sliced the goblin in front of him with such explosive force, cleaving him from shoulder to hip, that the severed torso flew a short distance towards itsrades, beforending in a st of blood.


    The goblin did not die instantly either. It struggled in dismay, at the feet of its friends, bleeding out and screaming all the while. Its friends howled in outrage. They tightened the grips on their spears, before looking to Beam, whose eyes swam with golden flecks, his sword pointed at them with a smile, provoking a clear challenge.


    Their confidence left them in an instant. They had not managed to even wound him, after all. From their point of view, he was far too mighty, especially given the manner in which he had killed their friends.


    Fear came to the fore and they took a quivering step back. Their increased intelligence seemed to work against them here.


    "Die," Beammanded. The horned goblins stood stock still upon receiving themand, as though frozen in ce. And then, just by the smallest of margins, the points of their weapons tilted ever so slightly towards them.


    It was not enough to do anything more than confuse them, but Beam was on them in a second, killing them both with a single precise sh, keeping their corpses in as good a condition as he could, now that he had seized the absolute advantage over them.


    As the two goblins fell to the floor, dead, Beam turned his eyes towards the trees, searching for the archers.


    He did not find them easily, given how well they had hidden themselves amongst the branches of the pine tree, but as soon as heid his eyes on theirs, he felt their souls tremble.


    He picked up one of the dropped spears and tossed it lightly at one of the goblins. It squealed in dismay,unching itself from the branches in an attempt at dodging. It seeded, but it was plummeting to the floor a momentter. It tried to roll to reduce the falling force, but Beam''s de found it instead.


    He dealt with the other one a momentter and soon the corpses were all gathered at his feet. He took a moment to calm his adrenaline from the battle. He hadn''t expected himself to get so excited. Seeing the gorebeasts earlier had made him nervous ¨C nervous for the vigers more than anyone else. In doing battle with these new opponents, that nervousness had been washed away by excitement.

 Chapter 155: The Signs of Calamity - Part 3

    Of course, fear was still there. Beam thought it always would be. But now he had the skills to easily ovee battles like this ¨C he felt he had more room to move and try things out.


    He plucked up one of the discarded goblin bows from the ground. It was about half the size of the bows that he was used to. But upon pulling back the twisted cordage that served as its string, he found that it still held a considerable amount of tension.


    "These are well made¡­" he murmured. He''d known it already, but the state of such weapons ¨C weapons that they had clearly made themselves ¨C showed just how dangerous these horned goblins would be.


    They''d shown the barest glimmerings of instinctual battle tactics as well ¨C even ambushing him at the start. Had he been a lesser man, as soon as they managed to catch him unawares as they did and send him flying, then he would certainly be dead by now.


    "Hm¡­ What to do?" Beam murmured to himself as he twirled his sword in thought.


    The mountains were a mess now, by the looks of things. There was a far greater danger than he was used to. The question then, was just how far did that danger extend? How many of these monsters could he expect toe through?


    Beam bit his lip in frustration, because there was no way of easily answering that question. He was already nearly done with his morning patrol route. Would cycling back for anotherp ensure that no monsters managed to make it to the lower vige? He wasn''t sure.


    "It''s worth a try at least," Beam murmured. But even from what minimal experience he had in strategy, he knew that merely addressing the same problem over and over and dealing with it reactively ¨C that wasn''t a good long-term n. So far, he knew nothing of what was causing these anomalies. Nor did he know if it would get worse.


    The very thought of it worsening sent a shiver down his spine.


    "I need more hands," he decided. There was too much ground to cover alone. At the very least, he needed to figure out some way to garner the information that he needed. There was Greeves, of course ¨C and that was about the only hope he had.


    But Beam was lying if he said he didn''t feel more than a little suspicious of the vige Elder. Of course, he had no proof, other than the strange chill that went through him every time he set eyes on the man. Yet how could he possibly be influencing the spawn of monsters? Were they not creatures that even the Gods struggled to control?


    He recalled what Dominus had told him back when he had first started hunting goblins. That monsters were the result of negative residue ¨C a residue that the Gods were able to shape and twist and make into monstrous forms. The more negative residue there was in an area ¨C say from war or famine or the like ¨C the more likely there were to be monsters.


    Yet there had not been a significant increase in any sort of negative activity around Solgrim ¨C nothing that would induce such a rise in monster poption. Besides, Dominus had continually hinted that there was something behind all this, or someone.


    Clenching his fist, Beam resolved to gather information. He nced at the horned goblin corpses at his feet, briefly wondering how much more they would sell for than the regr goblins.


    He hefted them up, despite his hurry and carried them back to the designated drop point that he had worked out with Judas ¨C an old animal burrow with a rocky opening and more than enough space inside for several corpses. Once he ced them inside, he rolled arger rock back in front of the hole, before tossing a few sticks against it to make it seem more inconspicuous.


    Then, he did anotherp of his usual morning route, searching for yet more disturbances. Despite the chill in the air and more fleeing animals, he did not find any more monsters.


    ¡­


    ¡­


    It was getting into the early afternoon by the time Beam made it to the outside of Greeves'' house. He sucked in a breath and knocked at the door.


    Even after a few moments of waiting, there was no answer. Beam frowned ¨C it was unusual for Judas to take so long. He nced behind him. There was no sign of the merchant or the bodyguard inside the market square, so he assumed at least one of them must have been in.


    He knocked again, this time a little harder.


    The door shifted this time, from the increased force of his fist, and the heavy b of wood creaked on its hinges.


    "It''s not even locked?" Beam murmured, eyeing the handle. He narrowed his eyes, feeling the hairs on the back of his head stand up. With the state of the monsters in the forest, he was far more on edge than normal. He felt a bad feeling in his gut.


    He nced behind him once more, to check to see if anyone was watching, and then he cautiously pawed the door open, stepping inside.


    His feet booted feat sounded far too heavy on the wooden floorboards for his liking. His sword was sheathed as his hip, but after gently closing the door, his hand found its way to the hilt.


    He looked up the stairs as he slowly crept forward in a crouch, looking for sounds of life.


    "THAT BASTARD!" He heard a shout from deeper within the house followed by the sound of something smashing. His shoulders eased up slightly, as he recognized Greeves'' unmistakable voice.


    He breathed a sigh of relief. Even though it certainly sounded like something had happened, at least the merchant''s anger offered an end to the tension.


    Beam stepped into the dining room and called out towards Greeves'' office. "This a bad time, merchant?"


    The door was already half open, and the heated conversation that was going on inside paused in response to his voice. There was a moment of quiet, before a woman poked her head out of the door, a distressed look on her face.

 Chapter 156: The Signs of Calamity - Part 4

    When her eyes met Beam''s, her expression softened. "Ah, Beam," she said with a smile. "You cane in, if you like. It''s fine isn''t it, Greeves?"


    Beam heard Greeves'' gruff reply in response. "Fuck it. Let thed see that I''m not the worst the world has to offer."


    "C''mon then," Loriel said, with a motion of her head, her curly ck hair swaying from the movement. Beam noted the exhaustion in her eyes as he passed her. It only heightened his curiosity further.


    Inside the room ¨C along with Judas, standing with his arms folded against the wall ¨C was a woman that he did not recognize, sat on a chair beside the roaring fire, a meek expression on her face. She nced up at Beam with something close to fear, biting her lip.


    As she turned her head, Beam saw the awful bruise that ran down the side of her face. Beam sucked in a breath and turned his eyes towards Greeves, unable to stop the anger that rose up from them. He saw Loriel flinch to his right, as Greeves defensively put his hands in the air.


    "Hold your horses you little bastard, it wasn''t me, was it?" Greeves said. "C''mon, you speak up as well, Charlotte. I know he looks about as much use as a de of grass, but it''s worth telling him all the same."


    The girl that Greeves had called Charlotte nodded timidly. With her short curly blonde hair, and her small nose and face, she reminded Beam of a mouse, both in appearance and in temperament. Beam could see her hands quivering as theyy sped together on her blue skirt.


    "One of the soldiers¡­ Hit me," she said. Beam continued to listen, expecting more, but that was where her talking ended. He looked to Greeves for further exnation.


    "One of the bastards refused to pay ¨C and when she insisted on the payment, he beat her. It''s not just her face ¨C the bastard went on like he was trying to kill her," Greeves said, seething with anger.


    Loriel looked at the angry merchant with kind eyes, resting a gentle hand on Beam''s shoulder. "I can see you struggle to understand him," she said. "But he''s more loyal than he would have you believe. He''s always got angry on our behalf."


    Greeves tutted and turned his head away. Beam wasn''t sure if it was embarrassment or not. "Of course I would. You girls work for me."


    "I don''t think you''ve ever got angry like that for me," Judas broke in with a smile, trying to lighten the mood a bit.


    It worked ¨C but only for a second. "That''s because you''re so fucking ugly," Greeves said back, with just the barest hint of a smile.


    Beam watched the exchange. "You wanted me to hear this¡­ So do you have a n?"


    Greeves paused a moment, as his hands drummed against the desk. "I told you I''d attack that which was above me, and at this moment, I intend to do just that¡­ The vigers are with me on this. The soldiers are only getting worse. They''re getting cockier the longer they stay here and more daring. Lombard seems to be letting them do whatever they like."


    "Lombard is strong," Beam noted. "You''ll never be able to attack them directly."


    "You think I''m fool enough to do that?" Greeves said. "No, I intend to do something more subtle to inconvenience them and benefit ourselves, though I haven''t quite decided what."


    "There''s still the threat of the Yarmdon," Beam reminded him. "Why not just stop sending your women to make a point?"


    "If I could have done that, I already would have," Greevesined. "It''s a deal with a noble. I don''t have the authority to back out. If I cut off the deal without his permission, he can call that a slight and execute me."


    "To be honest, I think the soldiers are going to have their hands full already," Beam said. "If you want to retaliate, you''re going to have to retaliate without weakening our defences, you''re going to have to be super subtle."


    "You think I don''t know that?" Greeves said, mming a fist against the desk in frustration. "Damn it. How can they be so smug to merely be in the serving ss? They''re still dogs, just like the rest of us." Greeves looked up again suddenly, as though just realizing something. "What do you mean they''re going to have their hands full already? Has something happened?"


    Beam nodded. "Gorebeasts and horned goblins."


    Greeves recoiled. "I know what a gorebeast is, but what the fuck is a horned goblin? Wait¡­ Do you mean that thing that you fought, there''s more of those running about?"


    "Nah, not exactly. I only saw them this morning. They seem to be infected with whatever that hobgoblin had. They''ve got the same horn on their foreheads. They''re stronger and smarter for it. They ambushed me this morning with bows," Beam said.


    "Goodness," Loriel murmured, holding a hand over her mouth. She looked at Beam with worried eyes. "Things have certainly got dangerous, haven''t they?"


    "That doesn''t make sense though¡­ There''s never been a gorebeast sighted around here," Greeves murmured. "I suppose the same can be said for those horned goblins though. What the fuck is going on?"


    "There must be something drawing them in," Beam guessed. "But I have no idea what, nor do I know how many are going toe sweeping through. I saw the soldiers struggling to fight against the gorebeasts this morning ¨C if many more monsterse through, then we''ll be having bigger problems on our hands than just the Yarmdon."


    Greeves shook his head. "When it rains it pours, ehd? What a fucking mess. You came here looking for my help in dealing with it then, mm? I''m not sure what I can do, apart from getting some information to you from thesses. I imagine this will mean some better-quality corpsesing my way, aye?


    Consider my assistance the little added benefit of our continued business."

 Chapter 157: The Signs of Calamity - Part 5

    Beam nodded. "That''s all I was looking for."


    "I suppose I could help too if things get real bad," Judas said quietly with a cautious look at Greeves. Greeves just shrugged in response.


    "Do what you want, but I''ll be charging you to use Judas and his boys,d ¨C so you''d better make sure to use them wisely," Greeves said.


    "I will."


    ¡­


    ¡­


    Beam left Greeves'' office after their discussion had concluded with a heavy feeling in his chest. He felt like there was something else was meant to be doing, as though he was wasting time on all this, missing the bigger picture.


    But what even was the bigger picture? The culprit behind all this? Hadn''t he already considered that and concluded that he had no conclusive evidence to go on anyone? He ran through the same thoughts again and again in his head whilst wearing a grimace. The vige Elder was continually the only face that came to mind. But for so many monsters to be popping up, could one man really be behind it all?


    Beam had intended to stop in the marketce to speak to N as well, to warn her of the influx of monsters. He could no longer call the lower forest safe, despite his best efforts. There were too many unknowns. Yet when he stopped to look for her, she was nowhere to be seen.


    Thinking it to be odd that she was missing at this time of day, Beam exined it away to himself by assuming that she was merely busy. But that did not stop his feet from moving quicker than they normally might, back towards the forest. He intended to go on another patrol the second he got back and he toyed with the hilt of his sword noisily as he went.


    He cast a nce towards N''s house as he passed it on the way home. It looked quiet. Had he seen her mother outside, he''d nned to call out to her, just to check that N was safe. But she wasn''t there, so he continued on his way.


    Just before he entered the treeline, he heard a voice call out to him.


    "BEAM!" It shouted.


    He turned to look back over his shoulder, down the dusty road. There, sprinting at full pelt, was N, still dressed in her hunting attire, butcking her bow.


    He frowned at her, as she skidded breathlessly to a halt in front of him. "I saw you¡­ walking past¡­" she exined.


    "I see," Beam said. "I looked for you in the marketce, but you weren''t there. I was going to warn you¡ª" he began, only to immediately cut off again when he saw the look on N''s face.


    "¡­What happened?" He asked cautiously. He had never seen her look so broken. It was as though she was walking around with an open wound on her chest. The pain and worry on her face were clear to see.


    "Stephanie¡­" N croaked a single name, losing herposure the minute she said it. She grasped for Beam''s sleeve as the tears began to fall from her misty eyes.


    Beam froze up in rm. "Stephanie?" He murmured, feeling simrly as shell-shocked. It couldn''t be..? Not again. Not after he had already failed to protect his own little sister. And they were of the same age too.


    The Gods wouldn''t be so cruel as to do the same thing again, surely.


    "She''s¡­ missing¡­" N managed to get out. Despite himself, Beam felt his shoulders rx, if only a little. In his head, he was imagining the worst. He''d seen the monsters already get to her and tear her apart. But if she was only missing, there had to be a chance. "We had another week¡­ didn''t we?


    That''s what the Elder said¡­ He wouldn''t just take her, right?"


    Beam shook his head. "No. I don''t think he would. Remember the contract he tried to make you sign? I don''t see why he would take her when he would have been able to legally im repayment in a week."


    N looked at him hopefully, as she desperately wiped her eyes. Her fingers dug into his forearm to the point of pain, but Beam did notin, seeing her so desperately searching for reassurance.


    "Tell me what happened from the beginning, we''ll figure it out," Beam said.


    She took in a deep breath and wiped her eyes even more aggressively, fighting to harden her voice and speak as she normally might. "I went hunting this morning, with Rodrey and Rodrick as normal. We caught another deer between us and two hares. We finished earlier than we usually did, so I figured after going to the market¡­ I''d go home¡­ but then¡­"


    She did well, only to break down again towards the end, as she drew closer to the crux of the matter.


    "And then?" Beam prompted her.


    "Mother told me what had happened. Stephanie disappeared just after dawn. She and David were ying out the front, just as they normally would be¡­ She took her eyes off them for a second, and then¡­ and then¡­" N said.


    Beam could fill in the rest for himself. "Did David see anything?"


    N shook her head. "David''s terrified¡­ He hasn''t said a word since Stephanie went missing. He saw something, Beam, something so horrible that I can''t even speak¡­ Can she really be okay?"


    "There was no blood, or any other signs of anything happening?" Beam asked, though he''d already guessed it to be true, otherwise, N would have mentioned that first.


    But N shook her head.


    "Then there''s still hope, right? I don''t know what David saw, but there are many things that would terrify a child. You''re the hunter, right? If there are tracks and if there are clues, we''ll find her," Beam said, doing his very best to be reassuring. "And things aren''t like they were ¨C it isn''t just you. You''ve got Rodrey and Rodrick, don''t you?


    I heard they''re pretty loyal to you now. Don''t you think they''ll help if you pay them?"

 Chapter 158: The Signs of Calamity - Part 6

    N''s eyes cleared as she started to calm down. She nodded once, then twice. "You''re right," she said, a determination in her eyes and within her fingers as she tightened the grip on Beam''s arm. "They aren''t like they were. I have people that will help me now. Whoever, whatever it is that has taken Stephanie, they will pay for it."


    They were the sort of words that resonated with Beam. The call to take up power and make use of it. He could not help the golden sparks that flew up into his eyes, as a fire began to burn in his heart and his own determination took hold.


    At one point, N might have feared those sparks in his eyes and the terribly overwhelming aura that surrounded him when it came on. But now she was beginning to understand him, at least somewhat. He was that which lived in both the light and the dark. If he had reason to, he would reach his arms down into the deepest abyss to im what he wanted.


    "We will find her," Beam said firmly. "I will use Greeves as well. He has already offered himself to me as an informationwork. Judas and hisckeys are on hand as foot soldiers should I have the coin and the need to use them. For now, I''ll search the woods. You search the town and tell Greeves what has happened if you see him."


    "I''ll search the woods too," N protested. "Mother wishes to join in as well. She''s been forced to stay at home and look after David, waiting for me to get back."


    But Beam shook his head. "If she leaves, there''ll be no one to take care of David. Do the town and then take care of the lower woods ¨C besides, you need to gather Rodrey and Rodrick as well."


    N saw sense in that. Seeing that she wasn''t told to search the town merely to keep her safe, she nodded.


    "But N ¨C listen to me carefully," Beam said. He still hadn''t been able to tell her about the new monsters in the upper woods yet, and he was cautious about doing so, for fear that it would only increase her own worry. "No matter what, stick to the lower woods, yeah? You must have felt the disturbance in the wildlife, right? Something is going on. The monsters in the upper wood are far too strong."


    Just as he feared, he saw her eyes widen and her determination waver for a second as she almost gave way to worry. "¡­But they haven''t leaked into the lower woods yet, right?"


    Beam shook his head. "I''m unsure, but I think not. The soldiers and I dealt with some this morning. Things should be clear, for now."


    "Then I can still check the lower woods safely enough, can''t I? But if they''ve taken her to the upper woods then¡­" N trailed off. It was a thought that didn''t even bear thinking about. If her abductor had made the mistake of taking her to the upper woods, then Beam supposed that the chances of them being alive were slim, which left Stephanie''s chances even slimmer.


    "Right. Just stay alert down there. If you even feel something is wrong, start running," Beam told her.


    N nodded again and Beam turned to leave. Just before he could get away though, she called out to him.


    "Beam! Be careful!"


    He nodded in reply. "You too. Stay calm. We''ll do everything we can to find her."


    With those parting words, the two of them rushed off in opposite directions.


    Beam sped through the lower forest with his sword already drawn, scanning the forest floor for any sign of tracks. He passed a pair of hunters as he ran, who darted out of his way in fear, thinking at first that it was them he was attacking.


    But when he merely passed them by, exuding that intense air that he had, their hearts were able to beat again and they shared a sigh of confused relief with each other.


    The forest or the vige, those were the only two ces Stephanie could be, Beam thought as he ran. They could see all the way across the ins and if anyone was moving through them, they''d know straight away. And, it had to be within running distance ¨C they was no way they could have taken her quietly in a carriage or on horseback.


    "She''s here, somewhere¡­" Beam murmured to himself, feeling it in the air. The fog had only thickened in the mountains, with the cold moisture clinging in the air. The higher up he went, the more foggy it became. He could hardly even see a few paces in front of him, but with his eyes on the trail constantly looking out for tracks, he never lost his way.


    After ascending the steepest hill, the slick dirt track that separated thest of the lower forest from the upper forest, he began to slow down to a jog. The path here, where the damp had made the mud slick, made it impossible to tell which tracks were which.


    The mud was like a canvasyered in one picture after another and it became impossible to pick out any distinctive shapes from them. Beam thought he could see the imprint of a thick paw, but he wasn''t sure. There could well have been a boot hidden amongst it all.


    "Damn it," he cursed, suddenly realizing that his tracking skills were terriblycking. "Should I find master?" He murmured to himself. With Dominus'' help, they''d be able to cover a lot more ground. He recalled that his master had said that it was his responsibility to care for the vige, but surely he wouldn''t decline to help him with such an important task for such a reason.


    Beam rushed back to Dominus'' camp along that line of thought, only to find it empty, just as he had half expected it to be. Ever since Dominus had begun his training again, Beam had seen less and less of him. Dominus had warned him of that, saying that if training was going well, he might be gone for a few days at a time.

 Chapter 159: The Signs of Calamity - Part 7

    Beam''s heart sank as he recalled that, praying that today wouldn''t be such a day.


    He urgently scanned the rest of the camp, eyeing the fire, as though it would give him any clues as to his master''s whereabouts. And though the embers smouldered a soft red, indicating that they had been used a good few hours ago, there were no other signs as to where Dominus might have gone.


    Beam bit his lip in irritation. The fog sat so thickly now it was as though there was a cloud sitting on his shoulders. He fought to calm himself.


    "What''s the situation ¨C what options do I have," he murmured quietly to himself, trying to focus all the raging thoughts in his head into a single direction. "Stephanie is missing. She was taken at dawn. With the time that''s passed between now and then, if they''d gone merely for distance, they''d be miles away by now¡­"


    His heart sank as he realized that and he had to fight to stop himself from falling into despair. "But if they went over the ins, they''ll have been spotted. Even if they went through the forest, the chances are high that they''ll have been spotted¡­ Right¡­ Right¡­"


    The pieces began to fall into ce little by little as he covered the range of possibilities.


    "We have a good amount of manpower, far more than we usually might, the key is making the best use of it. What''s the most pressing threat at the moment?" He asked himself. "There''s finding her, but then there''s also ensuring that she''s safe. How might she get hurt, assuming she''s still fine?"


    "The monsters in the forest, that''s one way, assuming the kidnapper brought her here. The second way, someone''s brought her into their house¡­ In that case, causing a fuss in the town is the best way to go ¨C limit their movements and keep everyone on the lookout. And then if they took her into the forest¡­ N and I will find her.


    Until then, I do what I can to hunt every monster in this damnable ce," Beam said.


    By the time he finished that sentence of his, his body was on fire with determination. Even with no enemy in front of him, his eyes glowed with golden flecks, and the authority in him went wild with glee.


    Ever since defeating the hobgoblin, Dominus had said he was in a zone of perfect potential. That things would flow far more easily now, as long as he was there to push it, as long as he had reason to. Beam had felt such a flow ¨C everything was improving just as easily as Dominus said.


    But now he craved more. More speed, more awareness, more strength, more power. As such thoughts rose in his head, his soul exerted itself and his aura intensified. Had anyone been present to see it, they would have trembled in fear.


    He shot away from the camp, the hunger burning in his eyes, searching for something ¨C anything to y. He needed to be better, he was desperate for it. If he was no use in situations like this, then what was the point? What good was he?


    His legs powered over the muddy trail, he skidded around tight corners without losing his footing once, driven by a purposefulness that he didn''t usually have. He followed his normal patrol route, but it was as though he body already knew that they had another destination in mind.


    When he first saw the figures arise from the fog, there was no surprise there, only determination.


    Yet more monsters that he did not recognize. He did not even have a name for these. At first, they reminded him of turtles, had it not been for the fact that they were walking on their hind legs. Upon closer inspection, he saw too that the green shell that should have been on the back was on the front. Not only that, but the creatures were approaching the size of humans.


    Their beaked faces and their stoney grey skin dripped with malice. They were a chilling manifestation of evil, as though someone had taken all the best parts of the old man archetype and turned it into the worst monster that they could fathom.


    "Strong," that was the one word that fell from Beam''s lips as he saw them. Of the three deformed turtles ¨C Beam wouldter find out that they were called Konbreakers ¨C it was the middle one that gave off the strongest sense of danger.


    There was a cruel look on its face, only amplified by the squealing goblin that it dragged behind it, clenched amongst its finger-like ws. There was a length of cordage around the goblin''s neck, of the same type that they use for their bows, and the Konbreaker continuously tugged at it, as though getting pleasure from its loud response.


    Beam never thought he''d feel sorry for a goblin ¨C and he didn''t. His only thought was that he''d prefer to see it die quickly.


    The Konbreaker tugged sharply on the rope, so that the goblinnded beside it. Beam couldn''t help but notice the horn that grew out of the goblin''s head. With its tiny red eyes locked on Beam''s, it gently opened its hand and slid its ws down over the goblin''s head, grasping it.


    Finally, the creature went quiet. It looked up at the Konbreaker with unmistakable fear, as it began to tremble. But the Konbreaker did not even look at it. It kept its eyes focused on Beam all the while. And then, with what looked to be the tiniest amount of force, it squeezed and the goblin''s skull shattered.


    Beam raised an eyebrow at the impressive disy of grip strength. Heter found out that Konbreakers made their homes inside of rocky cliffs and were capable of crushing small stones with their ws.


    The Konbreaker flung the corpse of the horned goblin towards Beam in what was clearly meant to be a show of intimidation. Beam watched it as it flopped down in front of him. He gave a dark smile in return. His adrenaline was far too fired up for him to back down after such a minor provocation.

 Chapter 160: The Signs of Calamity - Part 8

    The point was made. These were creatures powerful enough to treat even the newly discovered horn goblins with contempt. By the strength of its grip as well, it was proving itself to be a menacing foe. But Beam could not let that deter him, for he knew not what was waiting for him in the future.


    All these monsters were unexpected ¨C all of them. Which meant that he could have to face enemies that were stronger still. With such knowledge in his head, Beam assumed his grip on the sword.


    He could already feel it, as he envisioned it in his mind''s eye, that the same movements that had worked on the horned goblins ¨C they wouldn''t work on these. There were far fewer openings, especially with that shield of a shell protecting the entirety of its front torso.


    The middle Konbreaker opened its beak and gave a loud and piercing squark. At itsmand, the two Konbreakers to either side of it stepped in front. Beam could see that they were slightly shorter than its leader. He dared to pose the assumption then, that physical strength was what decided dominance in the Konbreaker world.


    "Then I''ll hit you with speed," he murmured, darting off his back foot. He had two weapons at his disposal now ¨C his old style of misdirection, and the new style of overwhelming force that he''d been trying to perfect.


    He feinted an overhead sh at the Konbreaker on the left. It reacted heavily to it, twisting its torso so that its shell would be there to shield itself from the strike. Beam didn''t slow, instead, he twisted, bringing his whole body low, he abruptly changed direction, going for the other Konbreaker instead, swiping for its exposed legs that stuck out from under its shell.


    With a squark of surprise, the Konbreaker managed to get its shield down just in time. But Beam was not done moving yet. These were not singr, purposeless attacks, they were killed with the vigour of a man that had to get something done quickly.


    This time, as he stepped back to avoid the sharp ws of the Konbreaker on the left, he didn''t move to feint. Instead, as the shield rose up to defend his strike from overhead, he brought his sword with full force down upon it, angling it such that the strike was more likely to move the enemy than cut it ¨C for he knew there was no way that he would slice through its shell.


    After watching hisst two feints, this direct attack caught the Konbreaker by surprise ¨C it had started to make assumptions as a result of Beam''s movements, as all creatures did, eternally attempting to simplify the world they were in, so that they could process more information. It had assumed that its shell would eternally function as a repellent ¨C it always had in the past, after all.


    Yet Beam mmed it back. With a squark, the creature''s legs buckled from under it, as it received the unexpected attack poorly and it was forced to the ground.


    With it on its knees, Beam moved it sever its head, just before the Konbreaker on the right could reach him. Now, after feeling the overwhelming might of hisst attack, the downed Konbreaker reacted even more strongly to his feint, the traces of fear evident within its movement.


    But Beam spun on his head and severed the head of the Konbreaker next to it instead.


    The headnded on the floor with a dull thud. It blinked twice in horror, before its body copsed next to it.


    With a few moves, Beam had built up a wave and now it crashed down upon the enemy. Seemingly disconnected attacks all flowed together to build up a perfect picture, a picture that put the enemy on the back foot and controlled its movements.


    It was the very beginnings of abat-oriented strategy and though it was the first time Beam had executed upon the idea, it was a roaring sess.


    And now the Konbreaker on its knees crumbled entirely to fear ¨C a deeper fear than Beam had seen even in the goblins. But its leader was unaffected. It squawked in dismay, itsidback mannerisms vanishing, and it came rushing in at Beam in his moment of pause, thinking that such a simple surprise attack was likely to catch him off guard.


    Beam red at it with a void smile. He could hardly contain the darkness within him on this day. It flooded out of his pores excitedly, screaming for his acknowledgement, condemning his subordination of it, and flexing its power.


    "Defend," he tried.


    And then, the subtlest of movements. A jarring attack on the Konbreaker''s soul. The kneeling monster that had already given into fear lost its autonomy for but a moment. It started to its feet, moving in the direction of its leader, as though to obey Beam''smand.


    But after a mere half a second, Beam''s hold on it was broken. It copsed in front of its charging ally, its soul battered and its body exhausted.


    That was more than enough, however. With an attacking from the most unexpected of ces, the Konbreaker leader was hardly able to react. For all its strength, itcked nimbleness. With its ally copsed in front of it, it took everything it had to avoid toppling over it. That opening was all Beam needed.


    He leapt high into the air, clearing the fallen monster and he levelled a strike on its head just before the Konbreaker could respond ¨C a sweeping horizontal sh.


    And yet, as if by a miracle, the creature managed to raise its shell just in time. But Beam was faster. By virtue of his superior speed, he was able to determine whether that strike would indeed end up being a killing blow, or whether he would allow it to hang merely as a feint.


    With the small amount of testing force he had put it into, he was able to seamlessly twist and change his angle of attack, striking the Konbreaker leader from straight above instead, splitting its skull in two.

 Chapter 161: The Signs of Calamity - Part 9

    As hended, he finished off the copsed Konbreaker as well, thus ending all of their lives.


    "Mm¡­" It was eating him alive. Even with the three Konbreakers dead, he did not feel anything close to satisfaction. Even the prospect of moving the corpses struck him as irritating ¨C he didn''t have enough time for it after all.


    But his better reasoning won out. He knew that the soldiers finding them would only invite trouble, even if they''d already caught some sort of wind of his existence.


    With them disposed of, he rushed through the forest once more, whilst continually casting his eyes towards the ground looking for tracks. He saw bootprints at one point and almost gave way to a flush of excitement. His sword hand was so eager to grasp the perpetrator that it ached. But when he followed those tracks to their conclusion, he only found yet more soldiers doing battle.


    He sighed and sprinted away from them, the fog lending his movements greater stealth. He briefly wondered how the soldiers would fare if they encountered the Konbreakers ¨C for such things were clearly far more dangerous than anything they''d encountered before, after all. He wasn''t sure whether they would be able to handle it, which meant more trouble for him.


    He''d almostpleted a fullp without yet running into more monsters ¨C aside from the ones that he''d seen the soldiers fighting ¨C until he bumped into some Gorebeasts of his own.


    They came skulking out from behind the trees, a mere three of them, walking lightly on that single front leg. On closer inspection, Beam saw that there were no eyes in the Gorebeasts'' skulls. He had to assume, from the way they put their noses in the air and sniffed, that scent was their primary way of locating prey.


    Such an enemy ¨C an enemy that could not see ¨C provided an interesting challenge for Beam, who had grown to rely on his ability to misdirect the opponent. He unsheathed his sword, relishing the test.


    He rushed in, his feet thudding against the floor as he went. One of the Gorebeasts howled, hearing his approach and it charged in to meet him.


    Beam raised his sword up high, gripping it tightly in his two hands, as he kept the elbows bent and prepared to deliver a single overwhelming strike. He made himself remain patient as the distance between him and the enemy closed.


    At the veryst moment, he swung his sword down in an arc, transforming it into a horizontal sh, that drove straight through the wide open mouth of the Gorebeast and half-severed its head.


    The other Gorebeasts could not see what had happened to their brethren, but they must have heard it, for the two of them gave a whine and cautiously began to back away.


    Growing a little more used to his skill by now, Beam gave a cautiousmand to "halt".


    But the beasts did not react to his words. Whether that be because they had no eyes to see the golden flecks that were whirling around in his, or whether Beam simply did not say themand with enough authority, it did not matter, for Beam went racing after them.


    The skill ¨C as unknown to him as it continued to be ¨C was not something he yet relied on too heavily. Every time he utilised it inbat, he did so prepared for failure and so his movements were not dyed in the least.


    He caught up to the first of them, by shepherding its movements in a direction that was easier for him to manage. He forced the Gorebeast to turn right at a tree, but Beam was there waiting with his sword at the other side. He finished it off cleanly.


    By the time he turned around, the other Gorebeast was long gone, having used the time to urgently dig a burrow in the ground, growing lost in the vast system of dirt.


    "Tsch," Beam noted his failure with a tut. It simply wasn''t eptable to let a single one of the beasts escape, for that was all it took to create havoc. He wasn''t even sure if ten hunters working together would be able to manage to brute strength and speed of the Gorebeasts.


    With that irritation wearing on him, he continued his patrol.


    It was dark by the time Beam left the upper forest, having been unable to find any new monsters for over an hour. He found N waiting for him on the road near the vige, seeming to expect his arrival.


    She saw the state of his clothes, drenched in mud and blood, and she could tell from the look on his face whaty in his heart.


    She bit her lip. "No luck?"


    Beam shook his head. "You neither, huh?"


    "I told Greeves what you say ¨C he said he''d keep an eye out. Then I went into the lower forest with Rodrey and Rodrick. We saw a stray goblin, but no signs of anyone else. There were some tracks, but when we followed them, it was just another hunter," N said.


    She''d calmed down since Beam hadst seen her, but she was still unable to hide the weight in her voice, her worry for her sister in to see.


    "One of these houses then," Beam mused, his eyes narrowing into a re, as he looked around, as though he might be able to guess where Stephanie was being kept at a mere nce.


    "Maybe¡­" N said. "I can''t think of where else she''d have got to, after we searched pretty much everywhere. There would be tracks at least, if they''d gone into the forest ¨C there should be signs somewhere."


    "There should be, and yet there aren''t. Greeves has mentioned that the Elder''s been hard to spottely. I''m sure we''d find something if we paid him a visit," Beam mused, a dangerous look in his eyes. He hadn''t been able to trust the Elder from the first moment he met him. Even if the Elder kidnapping Stephanie didn''t make sense, he was unable to set the thought from his mind.


    "You still getting them knocking on your door in the morning?"

 Chapter 162: Who Calms The Chaos? - Part 1

    N considered it a moment before shaking her head. "No¡­ I haven''t seen them in thest couple of days."


    "Could they really be any more suspicious?" Beamined. "Have you tried getting David to talk more?"


    "He still isn''t saying anything¡­ Mother said to try to see if he''d talk to you."


    "Me?" Beam said in surprise, not at all understanding why David would be more likely to speak to him ¨C who probably seemed like a rtive stranger in the boy''s eyes, since Beam had spentparatively little time around himpared to N.


    "Mhm, I know it''s weird, but she said she just has a feeling. But it''s dark. I guess you''ve probably got to be getting back, huh? Rodrey and Rodrick have gone home to their families too¡­ Judas said he would go out looking, but I haven''t heard back from him¡­" N said, the anxiousness obvious on her face.


    "I haven''t seen master all day either," Beam noted. "So many strange things happening all together. So many things¡­ Well, if you think it''ll help, I don''t minding with you to speak to him."


    "Really!?" N said, her eyes lighting up. "Thanks!"


    Beam had to hide his wince at her reaction. I was clear that she was desperate for even the smallest shred of hope. Seeing her in such obvious pain made his heart ache.


    The two walked in the dark together, taking the short path off the vige road and heading towards N''s house. The only light outside came from the stars and from the warm glow of light that crept out through the gaps in people''s walls and windows.


    They heard the conversation of two women as they went. N shot Beam a quizzical nce. "That''sing from our house... Is it a neighbour, I wonder?"


    Mrs Felder had gone knocking on the doors of all their neighbours as soon as she had noted her daughter''s disappearance. Though not a single one of them had imed to have seen what had taken her, they all swore to help with looking and that they''d keep an eye out.


    But as they neared, Beam recognized one of the silhouettes. It certainly wasn''t a neighbour. There was only one person ¨C well, actually two people ¨C that dressed in that fashion. With a long wide ck dress that reached all the way down to her ankles, long ck flowing hair, and a long dark cloak over the top of it all, he recognized what was unmistakably one of the vige Elder''s servants.


    "My daughter''s missing!" Beam heard Mrs Felder say, as she desperately tried to keep from shouting, even as she grew ever closer to it. "I have nothing to give you ¨C it''s already been taken from me."


    "Your daughter? We have not received a daughter," the woman said, tilting her head to the side.


    "Like I said, she''s missing ¨C I didn''t send her to you."


    The woman tilted her head again in reply. "But payment is due. Days are going down. We need payment."


    Her broken way of speaking did nothing to further that which she was trying to convey. Her repeatedck of emotion likely did nothing to ease the tremendous pain in Mrs Felder''s heart. Beam spoke to her as they neared.


    "They''ve already made an agreement with your master ¨C payment will be made within a week, the sum of fifty golds," Beam told her, unable to hide the harsh look in his eye. He trusted the woman as little as he trusted the master, if not even less. The soulless look in her eyes did nothing to convince him that he was speaking with a human.


    "I know," the woman said, and her lips rose into a smile. It was a thoroughly insulting expression, as though she was mocking him. Beam felt his fingers curl into a fist. The only thing holding his anger back was his knowledge that the woman hadn''t done it with the intent of offending him ¨C she was merely imitating an expression she had seen other people use and thoroughly ruining it.


    She looked at him, unblinkingly, for what was an ufortably long time. She tilted her head to the side again, as though expressing her curiosity through her movement would make her feel any less soulless. "Mm¡­ Do you eat them too?" She asked.


    Beam frowned. "What?"


    She pointed a finger at his eyes. "I see you," she said, and then she gave a childish giggle, a thoroughly disturbing thing. Apparently having satisfied her curiosity, she began to walk away, in no hurry whatsoever, as though there was nothing in the world that could fill her with enough want to move faster.


    N watched her go with Beam. "What the hell is with that woman?" She murmured. "She couldn''t be any creepier. But she didn''t seem to know anything about Stephanie."


    "Hmm¡­" Beam fell into thought at that as well. It was the only inconsistency in his strong hunch that the vige Elder was somehow involved with Stephanie''s disappearance. "But then I suppose we wouldn''t know even if she did. I can''t sense anything from her."


    "True¡­" N nodded in agreement, before looking to her mother. Mrs Felder''s eyes were puffy and red from the crying. It was obvious to see just what state losing her child had put her in. Seeing someone who had always been so strong for her, even after their father had died, it made N want to cry too.


    She felt something weaken in her again and if Beam had not been there to see, she was sure she would have broken down once more. "Are you okay, mother?" She managed to ask.


    Mrs Felder shook her head. "Beam¡­ thank you foring," she said in a croaky voice. "I just thought, maybe David might open up to you¡­ maybe."


    "I''ll do the best I can," Beam said. He saw Mrs Felder looking at the blood stains on his clothes and the sword at his hip. She paused her tears for a moment, as she looked between him and N with a soft smile.

 Chapter 163: Who Calms The Chaos? - Part 2

    "What?" N asked, not understanding the look.


    But her mother merely shook her head. "It''s nothing. Quickly now,e inside before you get a cold."


    Mrs Felder closed the door behind them. When she turned her head and the light of the fire caught her face, Beam could see the deep lines of worry that had already wormed their way into her skin. In less than a day, she seemed to have aged several years.


    By the fire, under the covers of several furs, Davidy fast asleep. There was a distressed look on his face as he slept, as though he was forcing his eyes to remain tightly closed. When the door clicked shut, the sound must have awoken him, for he opened his eyes in rm and took in the whole room like an owl.


    His mother tried to offer him a smile tofort him. "It''s only me. There''s N too ¨C she''s brought Beam as well. He''s helping to find your sister."


    Beam could see as the hope disappeared from David''s face that he''d been daring to wish for good news. But his shoulders sank again and his fear heightened, he pulled the covers further to him, fighting to stop his teeth from chattering.


    "He hasn''t stopped shivering since then," Mrs Felder exined. "Even though the room is so warm and he has so many covers on him, he doesn''t seem to feel the heat. I keep checking him for a temperature, but his skin is dreadfully cold."


    A look of pain shed across N''s face, as she crossed the room and sat on the end of David''s small bed. "David¡­" she murmured, taking his hand. "Everyone''s looking for Stephanie ¨C we''ll find her, you''ll see. You don''t need to be so afraid."


    But even with her soothing words, he did not look relieved in the least. His fear only heightened, as he seemed to recall what he''d seen that morning. N turned back to look at Beam, her expression hopeless. Beam noticed the look and nodded. He could feel Mrs Felder''s expectant gaze on him as well ¨C for she was the one that had requested he be here, after all.


    Beam crossed the room, not knowing at all how he could be of help. He imagined that, with his appearance, he''d be more likely to unsettle the boy thanfort him ¨C what with the mud and monster blood and the sword at his hip. He went to stand beside N, as he fixed the boy with a look.


    "You saw your sister get taken?" He said, his tone sterner than it might have been in the past, but he couldn''t help himself. Something about the chaos, it made his soul stir. He knew not whether it was Ingolsol exerting himself, or whether it was merely his own attempt at control, but there was a permanent intensity to him now ¨C he couldn''t bring himself to rx.


    David slowly nodded in response. Mrs Felder''s eyes widened in surprise. The boy had not even responded with a single gesture to her earlier, as though his eyes were firmly fixed on the past.


    "And what you saw, it frightened you?" Beam pressed.


    Again the boy nodded.


    "What you saw ¨C do you think I could defeat it?" He asked.


    David paused for a moment, looking at him intently, before he slowly shook his head.


    "How about now?" Beam said, slowly loosening his hold on his aura. N gasped at the intensity, seeing the look in Beam''s eyes. She''d only ever felt that pressure as the boy was fighting with the Hobgoblin¡­ And now, if anything, it was greater than before.


    ''He''s getting even stronger¡­'' she realized with a shudder. ''Frightently so. He''s different to what he was before. I''d sort of noticed it ¨C but now I''m certain. There''s more to him.''


    David did not respond, but his eyes simrly widened, as he attempted to hold Beam''s gaze. But with the nature of Beam''s pressure, with that look in his eye that even monsters struggled to handle, the boy was frozen in ce. "What did you see?" Beam asked, with more authority this time, like a general demanding an exnation from an ipetent soldier.


    "A shadow¡­" David croaked, the spell broken. "We were ying¡­ We were spinning¡­ And then there was a shadow¡­ A cold shadow."


    Beam listened carefully to every word. When the boy was done, he rxed his expression and smiled at him. "You''ve done well. Now we know what to look for, we''ll be sure to find her." He turned to N. "Let''s talk outside."


    She nodded grimly in reply, before giving David''s hand a gentle pat. "Good work, David. We''ll put this to good use."


    The two of them left the house again together, as Mrs Felder watched, rooted to the spot. Normally, she might have followed them. She might have been able to give them sage advice that would assist their endeavour. But now, as she was, she''d lost another important piece that made her whole.


    With her husband gone and now her daughter and with only a meagre few years in between, it was wearing on the woman. She who had served as the rock for a young family for the longest of times. Now she sought something that she could rely on.


    Only looking into the fire seemed to wake her mind up once more, as she heard the sounds of discussion from outside her door. She saw its mes grow and twist, feeling its heat. "So strong," she murmured, recalling the boy that hade into her home merely a month prior on the verge of death. And her daughter whom she had always worried for.


    Now they stood as rocks, as central pieces in the vige. She had seen that very same boy standing on the tform as the whole vige watched on. Her heart had stopped when she''d seen the look he dared to exchange with a noble, and how he treated the most powerful man in the vige as an equal.


    It was as though time had shed her by without her knowing it. Something had happened ¨C a great dam had broken and now the young generation were rising up.

 Chapter 164: Who Calms The Chaos? - Part 3

    Her own daughter daily was dealing with such wealth that it made her heart stop every time she saw the coins move. Those kinds of transactions, those kinds of burdens were for people far more special than her ¨C and yet they were happening so close.


    She carefully opened up the door, feeling weaker than she ever had. She saw Beam and N there, in urgent discussion. She searched the determined looks on their faces for the strength that she needed to keep going on.


    "A shadow doesn''t give us enough to go on¡­" N said, sounding desperate.


    "No, it''s more than enough. We know at least that it wasn''t a normal abduction ¨C that there''s something else going on here. ording to David, she disappeared near instantly and I''m inclined to believe him. That means that we''re dealing with something beyond the norm ¨C either someone masterfully skilled at stealth, or someone who has some involvement with mana," Beam said.


    "How do you know it has some involvement with mana?" N asked, sounding unconvinced.


    "I don''t. But something is causing those monsters in the forest. They need dark mana to feed off, something to support them. Master said that the mountains were far too pure a ce for them to go on living under ordinary circumstances ¨C so someone or something is creating these extraordinary circumstances," Beam replied.


    "Mm¡­ I really don''t get how they''re connected. How does this help us find Stephanie?" N asked.


    "Something is slowlying together. We need more information, even on something seemingly unrted. There are far too many odd happeningstely ¨C we need to put them all together and try to find out the cause behind them. In solving one of these problems, I have a feeling we''ll solve all of them," Beam said.


    "But¡­ It''ste already. We''re going to have to wait for tomorrow, aren''t we? How long will it take to solve all these problems? This is taking far too long. Why would anyone kidnap Stephanie in the first ce? How can we stay rxed when we don''t know their aims?" N said.


    Beam didn''t have a good answer for that. He bit his lip as he considered it. "I don''t know¡­ We''ll get as many people gathered as we can. I don''t know when master will be back though, so I''m hesitant to include him in any ns¡­ we''re just going to have to move."


    "So we''re going to have to wait until the morning?" N asked, fighting to keep her voice from cracking.


    Beam gave a stern nod, as he nced at Mrs Felder as well. "No one should move alone when searching, even if it seems rtively safe. Things are crumbling at a faster rate than we thought possible." He finished that sentence with a mumble that neither woman heard. "I need to find some way to make use of the soldiers¡­"


    Mrs Felder, weak as she was, could only nod in a daze, as she marvelled out how strong the two of them had be. N voiced her hesitant agreement to go along with Beam''s n. "I hate sitting still¡­ and I''m sure I won''t be able to sleep tonight ¨C but I guess it''ll be faster if I wait for dawn when we can mobilise everyone at once."


    "Right," he said. "I''m heading back. I''m going to keep looking in the woods," Beam said.


    Only after Beam had already dashed into the darkness did N realize what he''d meant. After ordering them to stay put, and presumably by extension rest as much as they could, he had charged straight back into the darkness, not following his own advice.


    She sighed. "But who''s going to look after you if something goes wrong?" She then shuddered at the thought. If something were to go wrong that would put even Beam in trouble now¡­ Then such a threat would easily sweep through the entire vige ¨C such was the level Beam''s strength had reached.


    She gave a nce at the sky as she took her mother''s hand to take her back inside. "Oh udia¡­ Please watch over Stephanie. And please help to keep Beam from being too reckless¡­''


    There was no voice to answer her prayers, but she hoped from the twinkling in the stars that they had been heard nheless.


    ¡­


    ¡­


    "Hmph!?" Beam awoke with a start leaping to his feet in a fighting stance, ready to cut down whatever enemy there was in front of him.


    But he was alone in a quiet forest, with nothing around him save for trees and the dismal light of dawn flickering through. The ground was coated in a hard frost, it clung to the bark of the rotting tree trunk in front of him, turning the mushrooms that had been growing from it into ckened shades of their former selves, as the cold slowly killed them off.


    He let out a sigh, realizing that he''d spent the night asleep on the forest floor. It took him a while to even realize what part of the forest he was in. There were traces of blood near him and several goblin corpses. He recalled that he''d spent the night hunting ¨C and this was all he could find.


    Dominus had not returned back to camp, no matter how long into the night Beam had waited. He had returned back to camp continually to check, but there was still no sign of the old knight. Beam could only hope that meant Dominus'' training was going well.


    He prayed, that despite the cmity that was currently befalling the vige, that at east his master could find what he was looking for ¨C the entrance to the Sixth Boundary.


    Looking down on himself, Beam had to stifle a smile. He hadn''t looked any worse at any point in his life. In a single night without Dominus, he''d been reduced to the state of a vagrant. It was an amusing thought. But that smile quickly faded as he recalled the events of the previous day, and he let out a sigh.

 Chapter 165: Who Calms The Chaos? - Part 4

    "I suppose before I start making use of people, I should probably make myself more presentable," he mused.


    He took to the vige, after a brief patrol. It seemed that things were quietening down somewhat in the forest ¨C he didn''t see quite as many monsters as he previously had. He wasn''t sure if that was because he''d simply gone too far the night before, or whether things truly were improving.


    He had to grimace as the very notion of improvement passed through his head ¨C he felt it in his bones, things would not be so easy.


    In the predawn chill, he passed the camps of the soldiers. He thought things to be rather rowdy for so early in the morning. He could hear loud and angry shoutsing from there, as soldiers conversed with each other. Intermingling all that were the even loudermands of officers, striving to get everyone in order before the day started.


    Beam watched on with a grim look in his eyes and clenched his fist. ''To have a hundred men,'' he mused, for the first time in his life recognizing the power of such a position and its utility. He had often thought that it would be useless to have underlings, if he himself was not strong.


    With such thoughts in his mind, he quietly made his way through his vige. There was a fog hanging in the air that day. Though the winter solstice had yet to officiallye to pass, with the greyness of the sky, it certainly felt like winter already.


    He had purposely not gone to see N before he met with Greeves. He expected that she will not have slept wellst night and he strove to pay her what consideration he could. He made a quiet apology in his head, promising to inform her once he had actual new information to give her.


    For the second time in a matter of days, as he knocked, there was no one to answer the door. Yet again, the door was open. He reached for the handle and allowed the door to swing wide. This time, though, he was not troubled by a quiet house. Instead, he saw Loriel, sitting on the bottom of the stairs, her head in her hands and a distant look in her eye.


    Hearing Beam''s boots upon the floor, she looked up. "Beam," she said, in a voice uncharacteristically devoid of emotion. She seemed exhausted. Beam recalled that the soldiers had been growing increasingly aggressive as ofte, especially toward thedies of the night that Greeves had been sending their way.


    "Trouble?" Beam asked, seeing her.


    She forced a smile and shook her head. "I''m fine ¨C Greeves isn''t doing so good though," she said, taking care not to burden Beam any more than necessary. "I heard about the little girl. I asked around as I was working, but I haven''t found anything yet¡­" she murmured, sounding deeply apologetic.


    "Ah, I see," Beam couldn''t hide his disappointment.


    She narrowed her eyes as she looked at him. "You''re pushing yourself far too much, aren''t you? How long did you manage to sleep forst night?"


    He grimaced at the probing question and scratched the back of her head to avoid it. She stood up and went to him as he looked away, taking his hand in hers.


    "I''ve seen you struggle for the longest time, Beam," she said quietly. "I know your courage, better than you think. It''s times like this that change people¡­ It dyes them colours that they can never wash out. Be careful. Don''t allow them to corrupt you."


    Caught off guard by the sudden disy of warmth, Beam widened his eyes. He recalled the curse that he had been burdened with. "I fear it is me who is more likely to corrupt them," he murmured.


    But she shook her head. "If only we would be so lucky," she said with a smile.


    An awkward silence psed, as Beam nodded towards Greeves'' office. "Is now a good time for me to go in?"


    She cleared her throat. "It''s probably a bad time¡­ But I think Greeves might appreciate the distraction. If you act surprised, I''m sure he''d even thank you for it," Loriel said, an unusually devious look on her tired face.


    Not quite understanding exactly what he would be distracting the merchant from, Beam thanked her for the advice and moved across the dining room, towards Greeves'' office door. He heard voices in quiet discussion inside. He nced towards Loriel. She gave him aforting smile and a nod, and then he pulled open the door.


    Three heads turned to him, one considerably more rxed than the other two.


    Beam could see Greeves'' face lose its colour ¨C as did Judas'' behind him, as though Beam had just done the one thing he shouldn''t have done.


    With the sound of chainmail clinking, Lombard arose from his chair to take a look at the unexpected visitor. He regarded him for a moment with narrowed eyes, before posing ament. "I suppose peasants do not deem it necessary to knock, perhaps?"


    "Apologies. I did not expect there to be nobility inside such a lowly establishment," Beam said. He saw Greeves'' eyebrow twitch as he made the statement. Lombard looked at him, apparently sensing that there was humour bred into his otherwise polite remark.


    "Where did you find this one?" He asked Greeves. "It seems this dog has no respect for you."


    Greeves awkwardly moved to exin. "He''s a problem, certainly, but he has his uses."


    That Lombard seemed totch onto. An intense intelligence sparkled in those pale blue eyes, as though he was seeing through something. "And what kind of uses could outweigh such unpredictability¡­? Mm¡­"


    There were several tense moments of silence as the Captain merely continued to stare at Beam.


    Eventually, he licked his dry lips and spoke. "That will be all, merchant. I have said my piece. It would seem the Gods have determined a fitting conclusion to our meeting." He left, and Beam hurried to get out of the way.

 Chapter 166: Who Calms The Chaos? - Part 5

    "A piece of advice, boy," Lombard called over his shoulder. "Knights are not ustomed to being taken so lightly," he said. "When you see me in future, I will have you kneel."


    "As you wish," Beam agreed. Lombard still mustn''t have liked that agreement, for he gave Beam another sharp nce before he left.


    "FUCKKK! I''M THROUGH WITH YOU KID!" Greeves roared as soon as he left,unching a chair towards Beam. The boy dodged it, a wry smile on his face.


    "Woah! Calm down, boss!" Judas moved to hold him back.


    "HOW CAN YOU KEEP ACTING LIKE THAT AROUND NOBILITY? ARE YOU TRYING TO GET US ALL KILLED?" Greeves roared, this time throwing an inkpot at him. Beam dodged that too.


    By now, the merchant was already out of breath. His hands scrambled for more things to throw, but Judas hurried to take them off him, understanding that his outrage was just a temporary thing.


    "Done?" Beam asked, raising his eyebrow.


    The merchant sighed, falling back into his chair in a defeated slump. "I know you think that was funny ¨C you think it was a nice little jab, but if that bastard was even a slight bit more prickly, he''d use the lot of us of making fun of him and we''d all be chopped up for it. Can you not show a bit more consideration?"


    When he put it like that, realizing that he was involving other people in it, Beam grimaced a bit. Even if those two people were Judas and Greeves, he didn''t want them getting dragged down for any slights that he might have caused.


    Still, he was so used to acting casually around Dominus ¨C a knight so far above Lombard in skill, that it was likeparing the sun to a candle ¨C that showing a higher level of respect felt more like he was just lying to the man. It left an unpleasant feeling in him.


    "Can''t say I''m too surprised though, not like you''ve ever shown me the proper respect," Greeves muttered.


    Which certainly did point a hole in Beam''s defence ¨C that he was merely used to acting casually around such a great power that no onepared, for he had not exactly been polite to Greeves either when they had first met, despite only having known Dominus for a short time then.


    Briefly reflecting on that, Beam wondered if it might have just been an inherent w in his personality. Even as a ve, he had struggled to manage it. "You were once a ve, were you not, merchant?" Beam said.


    Greeves shot him a confused look. "Aye, I said as much just the other day. So?"


    "Then how can you bow properly to anyone? Does it not make you feel strange, pretending to show respect when you have none?" Beam said. "It was not as though our ve masters were so far above us that they deserved respect, was it?"


    The merchant rubbed his eyes, as though it was too early in the morning for such arguments. "Right, right, fine. Whatever. I would agree, but then I would say that most people value their lives enough to grovel at least a little bit ¨C and that fear soon transforms into something approaching genuine respect, but I suppose you just don''t value your life.


    Besides, do you not bow to that warrior you serve?"


    "He''s worth respecting," Beam said with a shrug. He took a brief nce at the stain the inkpot had left on the wall. "What did Lombard want, anyway?"


    At Beam''s prompting, the merchant was forced to think back to the conversation that he just had and a very visible weight returned to his shoulders. His face looked more strained than Beam had ever seen it. The man was so stiff with stress that he could not even bring himself to tap his fingers on the table as he usually might. "Hah¡­ One of the soldiers got killed in the night. His throat slit.


    They found him half naked behind his tent a few hours before dawn. They''re ming it on the girls ¨C and me by extension."


    "And did you do it?" Beam asked.


    "OF COURSE I FUCKIN'' DIDN''T!" Greeves exploded once more, mming his fist down on the table.


    Beam nodded in agreement. "I suppose it would be a pretty stupid thing to do, and so suddenly. With what happened yesterday ¨C them hitting one of your workers ¨C it would be obvious who they would me."


    "Wait¡­ You believe me?" Greeves asked, his eyes wide in surprise. "I would have thought you''d be the first to condemn me and use the opportunity to get me executed."


    "As I said, I just think it would be far too stupid a thing for you to do," Beam said. "The Captain seems to think so as well, otherwise I imagine he''d have arrested you. By the way, aren''t nobility meant to have guards or something? Did hee and meet you himself?"


    "Heh¡­ So you think so as well," Greeves mused, his tension draining slightly. "But that doesn''t stop the trouble that I''m in. He''s using it as an excuse to drag me into things I want no part in. He wants me to organise the vigers so he can address them in the afternoon.


    Then, he wants my help in keeping them in line¡­ All that, just so I can stay my prison sentence a short while ¨C says he''ll decide what to do with me when the Yarmdon are defeated."


    "What about the guards?" Beam asked.


    Greeves looked genuinely annoyed by the question. "My head is on the chopping block, and you''re fuckin'' asking me about why he doesn''t have guards? How am I meant to know?"


    "Hmm¡­" Beam mused. "Do you have any more information for me? About Stephanie."


    A long sigh escaped the merchant''s lips. "Are you really just going to leave me to rot like that? I know we don''t always see eye to eye, but I might have liked a little bit of sympathy."


    "I''m not trying to get you executed either, though," Beam said with a grin. "It would be a waste to get rid of such an open-minded merchant."

 Chapter 167: Who Calms The Chaos? - Part 6

    Apparently surprised to hear that, or maybe reading something from the sentence that Beam hadn''t intended to put there, the merchant gave a smile of his own. "Alright then¡­ I don''t mind that. As for your information ¨C the girls put in work, but they couldn''t find anything on the littless. She may as well just have vanished into thin air.


    I''ve been keeping an eye on the Elder a bit, but he''s back to his routine as normal. The old bastard was probably just sick. Aside from that¡­ I suppose all the drama is within the soldiers'' camp," he said.


    "You mean, with the soldier getting killed?" Beam said.


    "There''s that, aye, but there''s also the monster attacks. They''ve got more than a few men wounded. Lombard there is looking serious, cos as it stands, he''s more likely to fall to monsters at the moment than men, he''s going to do something drastic in response, I imagine, that''s why he''s setting up that meetingter today ¨C or getting me to set it up, the bastard," Greeves said.


    "Mm¡­" Beam frowned, not liking the sound of it. "I was nning a search. Can I not make use of Judas and his men for a while?"


    "''Fraid not. He wants this organised before dawn. After then, aye, you can probably use them a bit," he said. "You want to help me get everyone in the square? I think it''ll serve us both ¨C you can get information out of them as you go."


    With a long sigh, Beam gave a reluctant nod of agreement.


    He finished his meeting with Greeves, after offering a few moreints, and then he went to fetch N and update her on what had been happening. Despite the tired look on her face, the determination was more than obvious, and when Beam repeated Greeves'' suggestion that they gather information at the same time as gathering vigers, she had eagerly agreed.


    Mrs Felder had tiredlye to the door as well, and now that David wasn''t quite as bad as yesterday, she took him by the hand and went to gather information as well.


    Soon, a wave of people were heading back towards the market square, their breath misting up in the cold morning air as they wrapped their arms around themselves and fought to stay warm, despite the thick clothing that they were wearing.


    Lombard came soon enough ¨C though not without making them wait for a while. The vigers were all packed into the market square, just as they had been on the day that the soldiers had arrived, only this time, they werecking the wooden tform.


    The vige Elder was waiting alongside Greeves, as the town''s representatives. The smith was nowhere to be seen. It was onlyter that Beam found out the smith was in a rougher state than all of them ¨C with the number of monster attacks, the repairs he had to do on the soldiers'' weapons just kept adding up.


    Lombard came strolling down the muddy road, on the same white horse that he''d ridden on the day that he arrived. Only, this time, it was two men beside him ¨C each wielding a spear ¨C not an entire army.


    The crowd parted as he waded through them, until, soon enough, he was at the centre of the square, where the vige Elder stood, along Greeves, Judas, Beam and the Elder''s attendant. Lombard made no move to dismount as he towered over them. He and his soldiers merely nced at them with the typical harshness of military men, before the Captain turned to address the crowd.


    "Solgrim," he said, silencing them with a single word. "When I arrived a short time ago, I dered your vige a garrison. My words have not changed. Instead, they have be increasingly necessary. Your freedoms will be limited in the interest of strategy, for circumstances have changed."


    "The poption of monsters within the mountain forest does not match the intelligence we have on them. We expected goblins, and now we find Gorebeasts, Konbreakers and other such mutations that otherwise should not exist in a region socking in mana."


    Lombard took a deep breath in, as he stifled a sigh. He had to put a hand to his scalp to encourage himself to continue his exnation. Beam could see from the look on his face that he apparently saw little point in exining himself to the likes of mere peasants. But someone amongst his officers must have convinced him that it was necessary, for he continued the exnation all the same.


    "As such, your ess to the forest will be terminated," Lombard said sternly. A gasp went through the crowd and anger shed in the eyes of the popce, who were still finishing up their winter preparations. The hunters especially looked ready to rage. Before they could say anything, though, the Captain held up a hand for quiet. "I will repeat myself: this area is under militaryw.


    With me inmand of this garrison, my words, my orders, are suchw. No man henceforth shall set foot beyond the vige perimeter without my permission, all who do will be executed."


    Another ripple went through the crowd. Shock, horror and ultimately displeasure. The vigers that had already begun to grow tired of the soldiers after their arrogance and their disruptions, they only grew angrier. If their lives were not on the line, they would have been screaming their rage.


    Despite the animosity of hundreds being directed his way, and with only two guards by his side, Lombard merely nced at them coolly, entirely unmoved by their emotion. Beam observed him carefully, wondering exactly what skillsy behind such confidence.


    "Fools," Lombard muttered, "if we allowed you to continue attending that forest, the lot of you would die." But with such words said merely under his breath, only those closest to him heard them. His horse stirred, shaking its head. He gave it a gentle pat on the side to calm it. After another deep breath, he continued his speech.

 Chapter 168: Who Calms The Chaos? - Part 7

    "Furthermore, despite their appearance, the monsters are not what I am here for. The Yarmdon threat moves on the horizon. Lord ckwell has charged me, and the other Captains, of seeing this threat stifled. And yet, three more viges to the east have burned. Forgin is amongst them. Since then, we have received no word from our scouts.


    The Yarmdon army might be anywhere. It is your lives that will be at stake if this defence fails. My men are not here out of love. They do not wish to spend the winter beyond the walls of Ernest. And yet I hear tales of disrespect, of disregard. They do not warm me.


    I will not hear anymore ¨C on pain of execution."


    More murmurs through the crowd. The threat of the Yarmdon invasion was a real one. Three hundred angry barbarians with three more vigers burned to the ground as a result of their piging. Beam could hardly believe that they''d managed to inflict so much damage in such a short amount of time. He had heard tell that they''d split up, but to think that such a strategy would be so effective.


    "Now you understand. You will obey. Those who are without work with the closing of the forest ¨C you will assist my men in building and improving our defences. The merchants will speak to my officers and ensure that our provisions are well maintained. The rest of you ¨C stay out of the way," Lombard said, summarising with that blunt statement. "That will be all."


    The crowd parted once more, as the Captain moved away on his horse. As well as distrust and anger, there was fear in their eyes now as well. The Yarmdon threat was only growing closer, and the only thing that stood between them and the enemy was the very soldiers that they''de to despise.


    "Oh, one more thing. If more of my men get injured, be prepared to fight to defend your homes," Lombard called back. His eyes met Beam''s for a brief moment. "Amongst the rabble, I would hope that at least some of you are capable of defending yourselves."


    And then he really did leave, back along the road towards his encampment, leaving the vigers to their own devices.


    Greeves was already muttering in irritation. "I fuckin'' hate nobles y''know. That bastard. No way am I going to be able to escape out the back now ¨C he''ll cut me down if I run with enemies on the horizon."


    The merchant saw the look Beam was giving him. "Come on now, running is an effective strategy for a merchant. Why waste coin on an investment that is bound to fall through? If I see the Yarmdon and I get an opportunity, I''m fuckin gone."


    "Gather those men you promised me, Greeves. I''m continuing the search for Stephanie," Beam said.


    "Even with the forest closed off? Where else could she be?" Greeves said, an unhappy look on his face.


    "That''s what I n to find out," Beam said.


    With a sigh, Greeves motioned to Judas. "I leave it to you," he said, before walking away.


    Judas gave a grin. "Looks like we''re finally working together on something, ehd? Me on you on the same team, makes me want to go looking for the Yarmdon myself, eh? Reckon we can deal with them."


    "How many underlings do you have, Judas?" Beam asked.


    "I can bring five," the man said.


    Beam nodded. "Fetch them. We need to get started. We''ve already lost most of the morning."


    "Right," Judas nodded, ustomed to taking orders.


    The vige Elder had already disappeared from the market square along with Greeves, as most of the vigers began to filter back towards their own homes as well,ining all the while, as a few people let loose desperate shouts, bemoaning their current situation.


    "Beam," a voice called out and someone grabbed his shoulder, as Beam observed the crowd with narrowed eyes.


    "Mm? Oh, N. Rodrey and Rodrick too, eh?" Beam said, noticing her bright red hair before anything else, and then her two hunting attendants that stood behind her, near double her size, both sporting great bushy beards and bows slung over their shoulders. They nodded to him as he mentioned their names.


    "The girl said you were organising a search for her little sister," Rodrick said.


    "''The girl''?" N repeated, an irritated look on her face. From the way the other two men reacted, it must have been something shemonly told them off for, as they both winced and Rodrick immediately went to apologise.


    "Sorry¡­ Our Lady says that you''re the one gonna be organising this, is that right?" Rodrick said, pushing the question forward again.


    "Our Lady?" It was Beam''s turn to pick up on the odd mode of address.


    Despite the situation, N couldn''t help but smile awkwardly. "It just seemed more fitting, y''know? I thought it would make me sound more official, for when I start doing business with the bigpanies."


    Beam grinned in response and shook his head. She seemed to take offence from the look, for she punched her arm and asked what the big deal was.


    Seriousness returned when Judas came back a momentter, five grizzled-looking men alongside him. Beam recognized two of them ¨C those that had helped beat him when his house had burned down all that time ago. He acknowledged them briefly, before looking over the rest. Every single one of them looked like they''d killed a man before, as one would expect from those in Greeves'' employ.


    Judas stood in front of them, as their leader. It was only with such rough-looking men behind him, that Beam was forced to remember who he really was. The man served as the most dangerous of criminals, carrying out the most vile of crimes. Through the time he''d spent around him, he realized he''d been taking that fact a little too much for granted.


    It wasn''t just him that noticed either, he could see Rodrey and Rodrick stiffen up, as Judas'' men eyed them like hungry dogs, ready to bite at a moment''s notice.

 Chapter 169: Who Calms The Chaos? - Part 8

    "Alright," Beam awkwardly got their attention with that single word. The savage men eyed him with res, to which Beam merely red back. "I had a n in ce ¨C and that n was to search the forest. That''s crushed, now that Lombard has announced his piece."


    There were murmurs from the newly gathered men.


    "So that''s it then? There''s nothing more to do?" Judas said, his arms folded and his eyebrow raised. "Got to say, you could have told me that earlier, before I tried to gather everyone."


    "No, they still have a use," Beam said. "My problem at the moment is ack of information. The problem for you lot, those not directly involved, is coin. How well can I trust these men, Judas?"


    Judas grinned. "Well if it''s coin you''re talking, boy, theseds will dance to whatever tune you''ll y, whatever pretty dance you want them to. How much?"


    "Mm. I''ll give you 1 gold today, if you prove useful and lead them well. For everyone else, 5 silvers," Beam said.


    Judas'' eyes widened. "Just for one day''s work? You''re mad, aren''t you? Just how much has the boss been sending your way from these monster corpses."


    With a shrug, Beam dodged the question. "Enough. So ¨C Rodrey, Rodrick, anyints?"


    "You''re paying us as well?" Rodrey said, apparently surprised.


    "Right!" N took that moment to jump in, "it should be me that''s paying ¨C it''s my little sister we''re looking for, after all."


    Seeing the look on her face, Beam chose his next words carefully. "Actually, N¡­ This oveps with something that I need to get done. I need to solve the cause of these monster attacks in the forest and I need to keep an eye on the vige in the meantime.


    We don''t know exactly what is connected to Stephanie''s disappearance, so we''re going to gather information from everywhere ¨C some of it will have more than one usage."


    "¡­I feel like you''re just wording it like that out of kindness again," N said with a pout, turning her head away. "I will repay you back for this, you know? I have my own money now."


    "Sure. If you feel like you need to," Beam said.


    "So, what is it you want us to do?" Judas said. "Not monster ying, is it? If they''re closing the forest off, I dread to think what sort of devils are running around up there. Don''t fancy getting my face scratched up any worse."


    "Nah. To start with, you''re going to distract the soldiers for me, and I''m going to head up into the forest," Beam said. It was the first statement of their meeting that required trust, and an audible tension ran through the air as he eyed every single one of them. "Now you''re beginning to understand the weight of the coin I''m putting in your hand. Can I trust you?"


    Nervously, Rodrey and Rodrick looked at each other ¨C they were who he was most worried about. Cautiously, they nodded, as N stared them down. "All you need to do is say nothing ¨C there isn''t much to worry about," he told them.


    "And yet, if you get caught, you''ll be executed," N pointed out. "Why take the risk?"


    "There''s something up in those mountains, something I can''t put my finger on. I want to run some experiments and see if I can understand things better," Beam said.


    "You had better hide your tracks. They''ll find you. And when they do, it won''t be pretty, even for you," N warned him, clearly concerned.


    "I realize that. Especially Lombard ¨C he''s a crafty one," he said, before eyeing Judas'' men. "And you lot, I expect, will be keeping your mouths closed, aye? From the look of you, you''ve all done things far worse than a little bit of misinformation."


    One of them grinned, shing a yellow smile filled with crooked teeth. "Oh, far worse, keke¡­ Never thought I''d get called ''ere for some honestwbreaking."


    "I''m with you on that, thought you were the kindad to stick within the rules," Judas said. "Being all righteous and that."


    "Naw, things are a little moreplicated than that," Beam said dismissively. "As far as I''m concerned, Lombard is doing the right thing. I''m not entirely against him, even if he is arrogant. It makes sense that he would restrict ess to the forest ¨C he''s losing too many men patrolling it and the Yarmdon have already disappeared.


    Pulling back to a defensive position, giving up the forest, and merely defending the vige and the camp, it''s the right move."


    When exined like that, the others found themselves nodding along in agreement. Even though they weren''t aware of just how bad things in the forest were, from a strategic point of view, Lombard''s move certainly made sense.


    "In that sense, I''m working to his benefit. But in the end, I''m on the side of the vige," Beam said, making that absolutely clear, as he remembered his master''s orders that it was his responsibility to protect the vige. "The protection of the people here is my concern, and I''ll do what I can to ensure their safety."


    Unbeknownst to Beam, such an assertion, spoken so confidently, from such a youthful face ¨C despite the scars that covered it ¨C came as something of a shock to those that he had gathered. To make such an assertion, to proim the protection of people ¨C many of which he likely had very little to do with ¨C was so far removed from their mindset, that it shook them.


    Rodrey and Rodrick worked their lives for coin, for they did not have a choice, just like everyone else in the vige. At times, they would gift their neighbours food, as a show of goodwill, but never had they thought to stand up and protect the entire vige by their lonesome. They eyed the boy who dered he would do that so casually, as though it was the most natural thing in the world.

 Chapter 170: Who Calms The Chaos? - Part 9

    Beside them, N too felt her heart stir. "Beam¡­" She murmured, recalling in the past that the boy had once stated his aimlessness ¨C that he didn''t know quite what he ran towards. She realized then, the magnitude of just how much he had grown.


    For him to have the strength now that such a thing was feasible, for him to say he could protect the entire vige, and for there to be strength in his words.


    For such a thing was easily admitted, by a child or by someone na?ve enough to overestimate their own capabilities. But when said by someone that was capable, where it was within their range of ability, it resonated with truth, and speared towards the heart. Even Judas'' men stood there dumbly ¨C they that lived their lives only for themselves.


    They that didn''t even know what it meant to care for their families, as the others did.


    Beam, for his part, did not even notice he had said something odd, for since his master had told him it, that was very much part of his mindset.


    "To that end," Beam continued, "we will find Stephanie, and we will simultaneously defuse the threats of both the Yarmdon and the monsters. I am not opposed to the soldiers, though I disapprove of their behaviour. There wille a time when we need to work with them, rather than against them.


    For now, though, freedom of movement is important, information is essential, and those that bring both those things to me will be rewarded.


    "For information on Stephanie''s whereabouts, 5 gold coins. For information on the monsters, the same amount ¨C and the same again for information on the Yarmdon. If you find Stephanie, I''ll give you twenty gold coins. So whilst you go about the tasks that I give you today, keep that in mind. Even if you think something to be useless, repeat it to me, and I may pay you for it," Beam told them.


    He could already see the hunger in the eyes of Judas'' men as he listed the prices. Rodrey and Rodrick simultaneously gulped, their mouths watering at the weight of the coin.


    "You have that much gold¡­?" Judas murmured, just to double-check.


    Beam waved a hand and gave a grin. "You''re the one who''s been dealing with my monster corpses. You tell me."


    Judas held out his fingers in front of him, as he attempted to add up the price of all the corpses that Beam had brought back. He quickly ran out of fingers and gave up. "Well¡­ All I know is it''s definitely over 5 gold coins," he said. "But are you really wanting to spend your money on this? I know you turned it down before, but the boss does have some good whores.


    That and a nice bottle of wine ¨C that''s what I''d be spending my money on."


    "Hah¡­" N let out a massive sigh. Judas noticed it and grinned an apology.


    "Moving on. What I need from you, past when you get me into the forest, is the establishment of something useful. Build up some opportunities we can cash in in the future. They''re wanting workers to improve defences. A few of you join in on that and keep your ears open to what the soldiers are saying.


    Anything will be useful ¨C the state of their supplies, the reports from their scouts, how many injured they have. We need to know it all."


    "Aside from the soldiers'' camp, get moving around the vige. We''ve already asked people if they''ve seen Stephanie, but we haven''t got any hits. We need to ask about other things as well, information, anyone acting strange? Anyone gone missing? We''ve got too few puzzle pieces and too many problems to solve. We need tools and we need awork.


    Greeves has got information going on his own, and I imagine he''ll help with this, but we need more," Beam said.


    "¡­I''m confused," Judas admitted. "What exactly is it you want me to do?"


    "You take half of those men of yours and go to the soldiers'' encampment and spend a few hours doing work. If you can get on with any of the soldiers, even better, they might be more inclined to give information. The rest of your men can go about town, and eye people up ¨C and soldiers ¨C as though you were going to rob them. I want eyes on the vige Elder''s ce.


    If you can get me more information on him, that will be a great help," Beam said, rifying.


    "Ah, alright, I''ll manage that," Judas said. "Though I don''t imagine the boss will want me out too long¡­"


    "He''ll be interested in your information as well," Beam told him. "Especially on the soldiers, with the position he''s in. Feel free to share what you want. But I want to hear it all as well."


    "What about me?" N asked. "Is it worth me going to the soldiers'' encampment as well? Will they really know anything about Stephanie?"


    To N, Beam gave vaguer instructions, hoping for better results. "Like I said to Judas'' men, we need more information on everything. That applies for Stephanie too. Talk to the butchers and the merchants that you''ve been working with, and the hunters too. Ask about the forest.


    But beyond that, get something that you can use in the future ¨C something that will help if we''re in positions like this again.


    "Something to use in the future?" N repeated, her lips twisted in thought. "Mm. Got it. We''ll do that," she said with a clenched fist. "We''ll find her ¨C and we''ll make sure nothing like this ever happens again." -content


    Beam nodded, pleased that she understood his point.


    "That''s it then. Judas, bring whoever you''re bringing with you. You''ll distract the guards and get me into the forest. Everyone else, good luck. Get as much done in a day as you can. If you can''t find me, report to N.


    She''ll be able to tell you what to do," Beam said.

 Chapter 171: Who Calms The Chaos? - Part 10

    With brief farewells, they dispersed, and Beam led Judas and his men down the muddy vige road. With the townspeople still trying to process exactly what had happened in the meeting, there were many small clusters of groups along the road, as neighbours chatted to each other, some outraged, others merely quiet with concern.


    More than a few heads in these groups turned to see an unusual addition to Judas'' usualpanions.


    Not only  an addition, but by the looks of it, there was even a change in leadership. Beam grew increasingly aware of the nces he was receiving, and quickly realized that they''d have to split up earlier than he''d intended. As the first cluster of houses ended, he came to a halt and turned to Judas.


    "I''m going to leave you here. Do what you can to draw the attention of the guards so I can slip into the treeline," Beam said.


    "Piece of piss," Judas said with a grin. "If you want distracting, then there ain''t a man in the world better built for it than me, y''know. Hard to miss this lump of meat wandering around, eh?"


    "True enough, I''m counting on you then," Beam said, hiding himself by one of the houses.


    "Leave it to us. You''ll be through in no time,e on then boys," Judas said, waving to his men. They started forward along the road with him, towards the forest, just like how the hunters used to travel.


    There were soldiers there now, guarding the entire perimeter. Five of them stood spread out, along the usual entrance to the forest, arge distance between all of them so that they could cover more ground. Two stood on the road and they red at Judas and his gang as they approached.


    "HALT!" Beam heard the soldier call out, as he lowered his spear to warn them off. "THE FOREST IS CLOSED!"


    "Ye, we heard," Judas said, sticking a finger in his ear to scratch it. "Heard there''s work to be done setting up defences. Is there any coin in it?"


    "No. It''s your own lives the defences will be saving, dog, why would we pay you for that?" The soldier spat back.


    "Eh?" Judas said, a vein in his face bulging, he put a hand on the soldier''s shoulder. "The fuck did you just say?"


    His men came up beside him, their hands on their daggers.


    "UNHAND ME, YOU FILTH!" The soldier barked, drawing the attention of the other soldiers. With Judas so close to him, he couldn''t use his spear to back the man off, and with an iron hand, the giant of a man seemed to be holding him in ce, a look of anger on his face.


    With Judas and his men acting so aggressively, the other soldiers shared a nce with each other, their own faces distorting in anger, as they marched over, spears in hands.


    chapter-hosted-on-MVLeMpYr


    Beam watched it all in surprise. "Isn''t he going to get himself killed with this?" He murmured. But he darted forward all the same, moving himself toward thest of the houses.


    Judas had all five soldiers gathered around him by now, him and his men aggressively ring at them in a false deadlock. Judas still had his hand on the first soldier''s shoulder and appeared to be refusing to let go. He nced back and made eye contact with Beam, giving him a shallow nod.


    "What the fuck is all this then?" Judas said, pulling the soldier toward him, so that the other men were forced to draw closer, pointing their backs toward Beam.


    Knowing that he wouldn''t get a better chance than this, despite the forest being a good distance away, he sprinted forward. It took him several seconds to reach the treeline, and once he did, he ducked behind the nearest trunk, holding his breath, listening for any signs that he had been heard.


    Judas must have seen him go, for he released the soldier and made a show of mock surprise. "Haha! You got it wrong, fes, we''re not here for coin. Just, see, we quite like this vige, and we were thinking we wanted a chance to stick it to them Yarmdon bastards, ya know? Where do we need to be headed to help with the defences?"


    The soldiers nced at each other in confusion, Judas'' sudden change of attitude making them wonder if they''d merely misread the situation.


    "Be steady with your hands, peasant ¨C it is not for you to touch members of the serving ss. Try it again and you''ll be missing everything past your wrist," the soldier warned, clearly with a hint of relief, happy to be back in control. He must have felt the absurd strength in Judas'' grip.


    "Ah, sorry. Not used to all this ss stuff, y''know. Always been around peasants, ya see. So, where do we need to head off to? There''s work to be done, no?" Judas said.


    The soldiers nced at each other warily, before one of them shrugged. "Can''t say the Captain will be too displeased if we drag in an ox like this one to help. I''ll take them to the camp, you boys continue your guard duty," one of the men said.


    There were a few murmurs of agreement, before the soldiers started to go back to their original positions, whilst one of them escorted Judas and his men towards the soldiers'' encampment.


    With silent praise for Judas'' efforts, Beam left the edge of the forest and plunged deeper into the trees, his sword tapping against his hip as he ran.


    "Now¡­ What''s my mission today?" He murmured to himself, gathering his thoughts, as he vaguely ran near the forest path, still not quite sure whether or not he''d find soldiers there. Given that the forest was sealed off, he knew that Lombard''s intentions were to focus their defences in one spot. But he still wasn''t entirely sure whether he''d cut off the monster hunting entirely.


    He saw nothing as he ran through the lower woods, much to his surprise. He''d expected some monsters to be flooding down there, as a result of the soldiers'' withdrawal. But then he remembered the ughter he''d put up the night before and grimaced, wondering if that was the cause of all this.

 Chapter 172: Who Calms The Chaos? - Part 11

    He skidded to a halt suddenly, sending mud flying as he went. He noted a patch of green blood on the floor. He crouched to look at it, seeing if he could follow where it led. He didn''t have the tracking skills of N, but for this, he didn''t need them. A short distance away, he saw evenrger volumes of blood, with dots of red human blood (or animal) mixed in with them.


    powered-by-MVLeMpYr


    At the moment, he had just barely reached the slope that separated the upper forest from the lower forest, and already he was seeing signs of conflict ¨C and recent conflict too. He put it down to a soldiers'' patrol, for he was certain such blood was not caused by him. But even knowing that, it still took a minute topose his thoughts.


    He''d known this would happen already, but it still shook him to see that the monsters had bridged the gap between the upper and the lower forest. He shuddered to think what would have happened had Lombard not closed it off when he did. These monsters were no mere goblins, after all. They were that which crushed goblins.


    And for vigers whom goblins nearly always spelt a death sentence, the creatures that were above them were practically executioners. They stood no chance.


    Beam rose to his feet again with a sigh, even more determined than before. "I''ve got to figure out just what''s causing this," he told himself with a murmur.


    As he went, he realized that his spot for stashing monster corpses was nearby. He figured he''d check on it, to see just how many Judas had managed to take before the forest was closed, so that he might better know his funds when he was gathering information.


    The spot was a fair distance off the trail, where a hill grew so steep that it turned into a small cliff, where dirt couldn''t cling to it and its rocky walls were exposed. By that cliff, there was a natural opening that had at one point almost certainly served as some animal''s burrow.


    He caught sight of it from a distance away, and noted that the rocks that he used to cover the entrance had all been rolled out of the way.


    He gave a sigh. "Good thing I came by," he murmured. "I keep telling Judas to make sure it''s well covered before he leaves, in case someone stumbles upon it¡­ If the soldiers find it, they''d almost certainly station a lookout and then snatch up whichever one of us got here first."


    But as he approached the opening, a sound caught his attention ¨C a sound that made him aware that he was not alone. His hand went to his sword and he cautiously drew it, as he continued to approach.


    The sound of bones cracking and meat being torn, as something heartily chewed upon whatever was inside.


    He noted their green flesh, upon his mountain of assorted monsters, with spiders, Gorebreakers and Konbreakers all inside.


    The goblins noticed him as soon as he drew close, as soon as his body blocked out the light, their eyes turned to him, even as their hands were still full of meat that they were feasting upon.


    Beam took a backwards step as the first one flew out. It threw a fist and he just barely managed to get his sword up to block the attack, only to be sent tumbling a short distance backwards, losing his footing on the steep hill.


    "Woah!" Beam said, dodging its follow-up attack andnding a shing attack down its back on instinct. Only then was he allowed to pause for a moment and note that which had just attacked him.


    It looked as though this goblin had spent the past several months doing nothing but press-ups and squats, for its arms were near triple the size of a normal goblin, as were its legs, and its bare back rippled with an abundance of muscle. It had all the physique of a hobgoblin without its height.


    Five more goblins in the same state came pouring out of the burrow, their mouths green and red with monster and animal blood, all of them rippling with muscle. These ones were armed as well, with spears and with bows, as the horns on their heads told tales of their rank.


    Beam didn''t have time to try to spend on deliberating the reason for their odd state of being, halfway between horned goblin and halfway between hobgoblin, for they were already upon him.


    Three came rushing towards him with their spears held low, a crippling charge, whilst the two horned goblins behind them went scarpering up the hill with their bows, securing the higher ground and then notching an arrow to send his way.


    All the while the unarmed brute that Beam had managed to wound swung its fists again and again, even as blood dripped down the wound that Beam had put on his back.


    Every blow that the creaturended made Beam''s body ache. Whilst it wasn''t as strong as a hobgoblin, he was definitely getting there and trying to nullify the strength of the strikes took far more effort than he would have liked.


    With the three spear-wielding horned goblins rushing in from his right, the fist-swinging horned goblin in front of him, and two arrows tracing arcs through the air as they rushed towards him, Beam''s eyes were opened wide in rm, as he attempted to find an opening in their attack.


    He tutted in irritation, being forced to take a step back. It would have been fine had he been able to flow straight into a counterattack, but just as he dodged the spear charge, the arrows were bearing down upon him, and he had to dodge those as well.


    But even as he stepped free of their arc, a giant green fist was closing in on him, forcing his back up against a tree. He ducked, just barely dodging the attack. But that said nothing about the tree behind him. There was a crack, as a fissure ran a distance up its trunk and then there was a groan, as it threatened to fall.

 Chapter 173: Who Calms The Chaos? - Part 12

    Beam eyed it warily, unsure whether it was going to remain standing. He cursed again, rolling out of the way, trying to find an opening with which he could use his training. He had his misdirection that he''d grown so reliant upon and he had his strength style, that single overbearing attack. But with how fluent their movements were, the horned goblins gave him no opening.


    It was like going against an army.


    They continued to hound him, not giving him a chance to recover. The unarmed goblin continued to run along the front line, pinning him in ce, whilst the spear-wielding goblins cut off his retreat and continually aimed at him from the nk.


    One thing became clear to Beam as they ran him around. "I need to get better," he murmured. For the first time since his battle with the hobgoblin, that feeling was beginning to spread through him. Despite his training, despite his recent efforts, it wasn''t enough.


    That irritated him. Why wasn''t it enough? Why did it never seem to be enough? It was irritating, but it was also exhrating, for there were greater heights to be reached, despite his continued inadequacies.


    The feeling of greed, that want for progress, it began to spread through his chest, as he felt his face grow slick with sweat. He eyed the horned goblin in front of him carefully, as the first wormings of fear crept through him. The spears were getting closer and closer to piercing his flesh, until finally, one did.


    It tore through his side, ripping the surface of the skin. Beam grunted in acknowledgement. The wound hadn''t been deep, not to his flesh. But to his pride, it was a p in the face. He''d dared to growcent, as every man was want to when progress was going his way.


    And yet that was indeed the destiny of man, that continual cycle ofcency, followed by a weight that he needed to grow stronger to lift ¨C the continual striving forward. -Enjoy!


    Yet Beam was not the same man that he was before. He was not the same boy that had needed to so desperately w for even the faintest murmurings of progress. He knew struggle, better than most. His lifetime of suffering gave him all the fuel he needed for continued evolution.


    That was not all, though. It was not merely suffering that drove him anymore. It would have been easy to fall into despair, as he felt his back once more be pushed up against the wall. As he saw arrows zooming towards his face and he had to desperately swat them away. It would be easy to curse, and say, "again, am I not good enough?"


    That day with the hobgoblin was worth more than that, however. The depth of that victory was not merely something that functioned as an isted event. In subordinating both Ingolsol''s curse and udia''s blessing, he had reached a state of potential that even made the hero knight Dominus'' skin tingle.


    Only now, for the first time since his battle, was he being forced to test the limits of that potential.


    He felt the darkness whirling in him, Ingolsol''s acknowledgement of adversity. He felt the light too ¨C udia''s own hope of progress, her nourishment and protection. And ruling them both, he felt his own heart beat like a war drum, the fingers of his soul reaching towards the ever-unobtainable crown.


    His grip tightened on his sword. He feigned a step backwards. The goblin fist came driving for his face. Beam swung his sword at it. The creature ducked. Just as he was learning its attack patterns, so too had it been allowed to learn his.


    But rather than the sword it had expected, it was a fist that came towards it. Before it even knew what was happening, knuckles were driving into its face, ttening its nose. It was airborne before it even had the chance to scream out in surprise. Beam caught his airborne sword a momentter and loosened his shoulders.


    "Now... Will you teach me?" He murmured to himself, as the horned goblins charged in with their spears and as the arrows sped towards his back. There was potential in the air, he could feel it. A more sensitive warrior might have felt it too, as though a giant was sucking in all the oxygen in the air, using it for himself.


    As the goblins came in, Beam ceased to think. Instead, he opened himself to new ideas, he allowed his body to move in ways he had not trained it to. He looked for the source of all things, that guiding river of progress his master always spoke about.


    Spear points neared his chest. His sword met one of them, before his wrist flicked that point into the rest, attempting to get the goblins to trip over each other. But the giant balls of meaty muscle quickly adjusted and kept their forward momentum going, bearing down on him with a roar.


    He dared to hold his ground. Only at thest second, did he twist his hips, barely allowing the point of spears to pass him, whilst the third looked as though it would pierce his heart. Instead of dodging it, he stepped past it, allowing the point to knick his shoulder.


    And then, with all the authority of a war god, he brought his sword down in a sharp and dominant disy, his strike purer than he had ever managed it. He split that goblin in two with the utmost grace, as the blood spurted out, coating all that was around him.


    The spear-wielding goblins that had charged past looked on in dismay. These horned goblins ¨C just like all goblins ¨C their strengthy in unity. Once one goblin had been removed, it was already the beginning of the end. Their strategies grew less effective, less fluid, and their defences became increasingly exposed.


    Beam looked at them with a smile, feeling a renewed vigour in his body. Never in his life had he felt such potential. Never had he been able to progress merely by willing it. The talents that had been suppressed his entire life, they began toe to the fore.


    Through struggle, he had broken through that second boundary, he had defeated the hobgoblin and saved his soul from the tug of war of two Gods, and now here he stood, swimming in a sea of potential that even Arthur would be jealous of.

 Chapter 174: Who Calms The Chaos? - Part 13

    There were these two styles that he was working on, with misdirection being far more developed than the overwhelming style, but with neither being truly where they needed to be. There was a clunkiness to his movements that he noted, that he felt. It wasn''t apparent against monsters worse than he was, , but when he went up against Dominus it was more than obvious. He had too many wasted movements.


    He sought to rectify that now, and he also sought something new. He needed to develop the two styles that he had more, but he also needed to bridge the gap between them and fill in the gaps where they werecking.


    There were five enemies left. The arrows continued to fly, even though the bow-wielding goblins now had distinctly distressed expressions on their face, as they began to feel the gap between Beam and themselves ¨C worse than that, they could sense that he was only continuing to grow.


    The unarmed goblin rushed in again with a roar, when everyone else was hesitant to attack. Beam received its blow awkwardly again, and was forced back by it, unable to do much when there were two threats near his side. He needed an opening, just as he had before.


    "I can''t keep waiting for them to make a mistake¡­" Beam murmured through gritted teeth, as he held his ground. "I need more."


    He needed more out of his defensive movements, he needed more opportunities to be created, he needed to build something, just as he had told N to do earlier. When he took a step back from the goblin''s onught, this time he went sideways. Another fist came flying his way, so he took a step back sideways again, but this time in the opposite direction.


    The goblin fumed, swinging its fists wildly, as the archers peppered the area with arrows, and the two remaining spearmen scampered behind the fight, looking for a weak point, attempting to take Beam off guard.


    Beam continued to take that sideways step. His mind grew calmer, as he merely focused on trying to create something new, on trying to find that which allowed a person to overwhelm another.


    The green fist ttered into his sword, he caught the initial weight of the strike, before turning his sword and allowing the fist to continue past him. Again he did that, and again.


    He sidestepped once more, then he turned off the strike, the same two movements over and over, in a perfect stalemate, as he sought that new thing he wished for, that new attack, that ability to create opportunity out of nothing, rather than waiting for it toe to him.


    He caught another strike on his sword and this time, as he allowed it to sweep past him, he sidestepped again. The weight shifted differently this time, and the goblin was thrown off bnce. The joining of the two basic movements and their continued execution, they did something that he didn''t understand.


    After performing them over and over, lulling his enemy into the same pattern and lulling himself into it as well, as soon as hebined the two, it was as though lightning had struck. reading-here-on-MVLeMpYr


    And yet what he did was exceedingly simple. He didn''t understand it, but that did not dull his sword. He created this opportunity ¨C or at least he thought he did ¨C and he moved to take full advantage of it. With the goblin off bnce and falling forward, its neck was perfectly exposed for Beam''s de. It attempted to raise an arm to block his blow, but Beam''s sword sliced straight through it.


    The arm dropped to the floor, as did the head. Spear points raced past the falling corpse as the goblins sought to take advantage of his momentarypse in attention. But the tide had already shifted. The equilibrium that had kept the battle going for so long was shattered.


    With no bruiser to take care of their front lines and distract his attention, the goblins in front of him were no match for his speed.


    He employed his misdirection as he normally might, feigning the same backwards step that he had practised over and over, before leaping forward, catching the goblin off guard, twisting his body to avoid its spear and forcing his de into its throat.


    It let out a high-pitched squeal as it dropped its spear and attempted to stem the tide of blood that was spurting from the wound. The goblin next to it squealed too, in fear this time, as its eyes widened, seeing two of itsrades dealt with so easily in quick session. Beam saw it take a backwards step, as it attempted to turn and run away. But he was on it before it had a chance.


    He wrapped his arm around its neck and drove a sword through its back.


    Rather than let the corpse fall to the floor as he normally might, he held onto this one, enduring its death throes. Once life had finally left its body, he shifted it into ce as a meat shield. Two arrows thudded against it, almost piercing it straight through. But the time they reached Beam the momentum was entirely gone ¨C though they touched him, they did not even pierce his clothes.


    Slowly, with his meat shield in ce, Beam advanced on the remaining goblins. They both shared a nce with each other as they dared to fire another volley, before turning on their heels and attempting to sprint away.


    "Stay," a brief moment of eye contact, and one of the goblins was rooted in ce. Beam tossed his shield aside and picked up a spear instead. With a twist of his hips and shoulder, the spear went soaring, impaling the running goblin straight through its stomach. Its bow fell to the ground, as strength left its hands.


    It then fell to its knees, before falling face down to the floor, pushing the spear back through itself.


    It didn''t take much effort to finish off thest one, as it struggled to regain control of its body after Beam''s order had locked it in ce. He cut it down, no longer caring about keeping the corpse intact, now that he had no way of getting them delivered to Greeves.

 Chapter 175: Who Calms The Chaos? - Part 14

    He eyed the scene of his battle after watching thatst goblin fall to the floor. "It''s different," he mused. There was something about the situation that seemed different to what he was used to. He left the corpses where they were and went back to the head of the burrow where he''d stashed his corpses.


    Inside, there was a mountain of meat. The stench was¡­ not too bad. Yet. Had it been any warmer, then Beam was sure it would have stunk. But with the ground half frozen from the winter frost, the meat had been rather well preserved. There were nearly thirty corpses inside, and still, there was room to move and room for more corpses to be added.


    As a burrow ¨C or at least that was how Beam thought of it ¨C it was a veritable hotel.


    With the state of the floor of the burrow, with meat and bones strewn everywhere, he wasn''t particrly eager to step inside, but he had to edge closer anyway, just to check that no goblins remained, and simrly that the creatures were dead.


    The floor was slippery underfoot as he stepped inside, and the air was stagnant. After a brief inspection, he confirmed that there was nothing yet living. Now he turned his attention to the damage the goblins had done. He looked at the quantity of bones that were strewn around, and in truth, he couldn''t find that many.


    He noted that it was the more powerful beasts that the goblins had been set on devouring. They''d really done a number on the Konbreaker corpses. They''d somehow managed to tear the front shells off and feast on the hard flesh underneath. That was where the worst of the damage was. Beam estimated that about two and a half Konbreakers had been eaten, and then two Gorebeasts.


    "It''s not a lot, considering," Beam thought aloud. This was the type of information he''d been looking for, one of the many puzzle pieces that he''d hoped to find. Things that seemed insignificant, but yed a role in determining the overall picture. He was pleased to have discovered it so soon, with time being of the essence.


    "So monsters eat each other, and apparently, they grow stronger from it," he said to himself. He''d known such things to be true before. That was meant to be the natural origin of a hobgoblin: a goblin that had consumed enough flesh of enough powerful beasts that it had the energy to evolve.


    That, or a goblin mother that did the same during its pregnancy, or so Dominus had told him, but Beam had never seen a goblin mother before. He''d never even seen a proper nest. He''d only ever seen the parties of hunters outside.


    Such a thought struck him as odd. How could he have gone so long without stumbling on a nest? the-ce-MVLeMpYr


    It made Dominus'' notion that someone was behind this seem much more certain. They certainly weren''t appearing naturally.


    "What can I do¡­ These monsters areing out of nowhere. No matter how many times I patrol, there''s always more to be had. And now, if I leave the corpses unattended, it''s only going to make more powerful enemies to deal withter on," he said, running the situation through in his mind.


    "I wonder¡­ Can I make this easier?" He said slowly, hitting upon the beginnings of an idea. "Ah¡­ I suppose that might work?"


    He began to drag some of the better-looking corpses out of the hole, throwing them into a pile on the ground. Slowly but surely, that pile built up, into a mound of unsightly-looking monster flesh.


    Once that was done, he tried cleaning up the rest of the cave, with the scraps of flesh that had been left behind. He was hesitant to add them to his pile, for the purpose of that pile was to have it be easy to move, but nor was he too fond of the idea of leaving the meat behind for some lesser creature to stumble upon.


    Even if it was the weakest of goblins, feasting on that amount of loose flesh would certainly turn it into quite a monster, and though he would be able to dealfortably with it, the vigers wouldn''t stand a chance. It would be as though one of Ingolsol''s demons had managed to crawl up from the underworld.


    "I suppose I''ll burn them at camp," he said to himself. He had a huge pile of monster flesh ¨C a pile that had risen up to well over the height of his head by now ¨C to shift, and then the other bits of scraps that he wasn''t really wanting to use. But luckily, his camp wasn''t too far away¡­ At least not if he was walking. Having a pile of flesh to shift made it quite a different story.


    His n was simple: to use the monster flesh as bait. He didn''t know how effective that would be, but he was willing to take a chance on it, for there were few drawbacks. After all, the goblins had managed to find his hidden hole, despite the rocks that he''d put up to hide it, which likely meant that they had some way of tracking the scent.


    He hoped the same would be true for the other monsters as well. He imagined creating such a pile that no creature in the entire forest could ignore it, so that they''d all be drawn into the same ce continually, making his job of dealing with them far easier, and, above all that, hopefully allowing him the opportunity to see why they were appearing so frequently in the first ce.


    A decent n, by Beam''s eyes, but a n that would have been impossible for anyone else in the vige to execute alone, aside from Dominus and Lombard.


    Regardless, he put that n to work all the same.


    Beam shifted those monster corpses as he nned to, hefting them all into a big pile a little distance away from camp, and then he began to set up a zing fire in the fire pit, before dragging all the scraps of meat that were too annoying to move and tossing them on.

 Chapter 176: The Shadows - Part 1

    They certainly smelled worse when they burned, or so Beam thought, as he saw dark smoke rise off the bodies, as the flesh gave away, leaving only bone.


    "Ah, I wondered who it was causing such an awful stench in my campsite," a voice called out from behind him, as Beam poked the fire with a stick, looking for more space to toss the scraps of meat on.


    Beam turned around. "Master!" He said happily. "I''ve been looking for you ¨C it''s been a crazy couple of days."


    Dominus nodded in acknowledgement. "I noticed something had changed when I came back from my meditation. So it''s affecting the vige as well, is it?" The man said, stepping a little closer, as he wrinkled his nose at the fire.


    It was only when he drew nearer that Beam was able to see the terrible blue and purple marks of the Pandora Goblin ¨C they now extended up past his neck, onto the bottom of his face, peaking their way out from under his clothes. His smile faded as he saw it. "Master¡­" he said in shock.


    "Hm? This?" Dominus said, immediately understanding what he was referring to. "I already told you, didn''t I? I can''t control it forever. Of course, it''s going to spread. Only now that I''m making progress again, it''s spreading much faster than before¡­"


    "Are you really going to be alright?" Beam asked. "You told me that you had a year."


    "And I do intend to keep that promise. But such is the arduous nature of trying to break through. The Sixth Boundary does not seem to be too far away. The stench of progress is overwhelming. Even as it harms my body, I cannot bring myself to turn it away. Besides, what point is there ¨C I''m going to die in the end, aren''t I?


    I may as well go as far as I can in the meantime," Dominus said.


    Only slightly reassured by Dominus'' words, Beam chose to ask him about his progress instead. "Is it going that well? Didn''t you say you were stagnant for 10 years before?"


    "Well, aye, notpletely stagnant, y''know, there were minor improvements¡­ But nothing that truly made me stronger. Just slight changes in perception. It''s you I''ve got to thank for giving me a new perspective on things ¨C for enlightening a domain that I did not realize existed.


    It''s thanks to you that I might be able to overtake Arthur, at least before the end," he said thatst part with a teasing smile, as though Arthur was there, listening, and he was purposelessly saying it to irritate him.


    "Didn''t you already surpass him, by wounding the Pandora Goblin as you did?" Beam asked.


    Dominus paused before he answered. "Mm¡­ I cannot say that proudly. Arthur, for all his talent, shackled himself with responsibility, just as your suffering has shackled and fuelled you. He only died that death of his in the name of loyalty, in the name of his people. The man deserved far better."


    "I see¡­" Beam murmured, throwing thest of the meat on the fire. "Well, I hope you do manage to overtake him in the end," he said, forcing a smile.


    "That is the intention, anyway. So what''s this about? You turning my campsite into a monster barbeque? That stench is unbearable. I''d nned to nap for a while before going back to training in the afternoon, but it looks like I''m not going to be able to sleep anyway for miles around without smelling that," Dominusined.


    "Ah. Well¡­ Sorry. It''s sort of an experiment. I want to see if I can lure the monsters in using a pile of dead ones, so I don''t have to track them all down individually. But I''ve also seen that when they eat each other''s flesh, they grow stronger, so I thought I''d get rid of the smaller bits that I didn''t want to carry, before they have a chance to eat them," Beam said.


    "Hm¡­ So we''ve got Konbreakers and Gorebeasts added in now, do we?" Dominus murmured, kicking a couple of the scraps of meat that Beam had put on, recognizing them merely from their flesh alone. "How unnatural. The creatures both live in entirely different ces. Konbreakers are desert dwellers ¨C you''d be lucky to find any in the entire country.


    Then the Gorebeasts¡­ Well, I suppose they''re more suited to here, but there isn''t enough dark mana in the air to support them."


    "Dark mana?" Beam repeated. discover-MVLeMpYr-novels


    "Indeed. They need that in the same way we need air. A few weeks without it, and they''d just perish by themselves. So y''know, that''s the state of unnaturalness that things are in. I hope you''re up to solving it, ''cos I''m a busy little bee at the moment," Dominus said, reaching his hands behind his head and stretching.


    "The thing is master¡­ A little girl, N''s little sister ¨C she''s gone missing. I was hoping to ask for your help in that," Beam said awkwardly.


    Dominus paused a moment, looking momentarily surprised. "I see things are progressing quickly without me," he said. Beam caught the old knight looking at his hand, as it was stained with the purple poison. He could see the regret on his face.


    "I can''t at the moment, boy," Dominus said apologetically. "You''ve caught me at a bad time. If I let this poison run riot by itself for more than an hour, I won''t be able to hold it back anymore¡­ As it is now, I''m maintaining a pretty delicate bnce. To allow progress in, whilst controlling the movements of the poison. It''s taking everything that I have."


    Hearing that, Beam nced at the ground regretfully. "Ah¡­"


    "That said, I will keep an eye out. If things grow too dangerous, then I will have to get involved. As they are now though, I would say you have not yet lost. Besides, looking after this vige ¨C that''s your responsibility now, is it not?" Dominus said.


    "I haven''t lost yet?" Beam looked up at those words. Dominus nodded back with a smile. Though his master had not explicitly said so, from the nature of that smile, he had to assume that Stephanie was still alive. He clenched his fist. "Then I will deal with it."

 Chapter 177: The Shadows - Part 2

    "Good," Dominus said, his grin widening. "I imagine Arthur would cut me down on the spot for this, but ah, I suppose he will have to wait until I''m dead¡­ With that said, I think I am done here. It would be better for me to return to my istion sooner. Especially with this foul stench in the air."


    "Got it. Good luck, master," Beam said, his determination renewed.


    "Indeed," Dominus said, before vanishing into thin air.


    Beam nced around, wondering if he could finally track his master''s movements, or if he could at least tell where he was going. But in that instant, Dominus'' presence hadpletely vanished. He was far faster than anything that Beam could conceive of. Fitting for the strongest warrior in thend.


    He clenched his fist as he acknowledged that strength. "And master is getting even stronger too¡­ I have to speed up," he told himself.


    With a deep breath, he tidied up the fire, making sure there were no loose scraps of flesh that monsters would feast on. Then he left it behind, resolving to take care of the bonester, once the fire had cooled.


    Now he was in front of his pile of monsters once more ¨C a mighty pile at that ¨C and he needed to find somewhere to put them, a nice location to set up and watch, where he could easily deal with any enemies that approached.


    read-on-MVLeMpYr


    "The further away I am from the lower forest, the better," he said to himself. If the pile of monster meat was capable of attracting monsters as he hoped it would be, then pulling them away from the vige and the vigers was the natural conclusion. But he wondered just where to put them. A clearing would be ideal¡­ Somewhere where he could watch over the proceedings from high up.


    With those conditions in mind, a ce popped into his head. He nodded to himself, and began moving his corpses there.


    It was early evening by the time he''d managed to achieve that. The distance he had to move the monster corpses was far from reasonable. He''d wanted to give up several times as he did it, with the progress being so arduous. But he repeatedly told himself that the further away from the vige, the better it was, so no matter where he went, he would have to carry them a distance.


    And now, he was in that clearing that he''d thought about earlier. A clearing with a tall cliff face at his back ¨C a cliff face that, to his knowledge, no one had a chance of climbing up. That narrowed down the areas he had to keep a lookout on, making his job ever so slightly easier.


    With his pile in ce in the centre of the clearing, he gave it onest nce, before choosing a particrlyrge tree to climb, so that he might view all the happenings from up high.


    A good distance above ground now, he sat with his back against the thick trunk of the tree and his legs crossed on a thick branch. He''d gone to work with his sword a little, hacking some of the smaller branches away to make his job easier.


    With what he''d cut off, he put it in front of him, making a sort of camouge shield that he hoped would further hide him, whilst still allowing him to see down himself.


    He waited thirty minutes like that, sitting with the utmost stillness. Only when his stomach growled did he realize he hadn''t eaten in quite a while. With how busy things had been, the need for food hadpletely slipped his mind. But even knowing that, he didn''t make any immediate ns to solve that problem, for fear that any sudden moves would disturb the perfect n that he had set in ce.


    The sky waspletely dark by now, and only by the light of a half-moon was the clearing lit, albeit dimly. Yet even that dim light was more than enough for Beam. He cast his eyes to the stars as he waited, his breath misting in front of him as the cold winter''s night began to draw in.


    Branches ruffling and sticks breaking alerted him to movement from below.


    Instantly, he was alert, his heart pounding, his adrenaline spiking. Something was approaching ¨C and something heavy.


    His hand went to his sword as he waited.


    A momentter, a party of three Konbreakers stepped into the clearing. They moved slowly and cautiously, as though sensing that there was danger in the air.


    Their beaks were half open, and they''d continually hold them up, like a dog sniffing the air. Beam supposed that was indeed what they were doing. Though to him, it appeared that theycked a nose; he supposed they could at least taste what was in the air.


    And continuing to taste the air was exactly what they did, as the three creatures eagerly following the scent of the corpse pile. Their eyes must have been poor, for only when they were a few steps away did they appear to see it properly. They gave out caws of excitement before quickly diving in, grabbing the nearest of corpses with their vice-like ws and immediately beginning to eat.


    It was only when he saw just how quickly the Konbreakers were plunging into their food did Beam begin to feel a bit of rm. He realized he probably should have been closer to the ground if he wanted to deal with the enemy quickly every time they arrived. Now he had several branches to leap down ¨C it was going to be almost impossible to remain hidden.


    Swiftly, Beam slid down and hung off the branch he was on, merely grasping it with his hands for a few seconds, before he lined up a drop with the branch beneath him. It was a fair distance, but Beam confidently let go andnded subtly, his natural talent for bncing more than evident.

 Chapter 178: The Shadows - Part 3

    But whilst his bnce had always been there ¨C his stealthiness had not and still was not. He didn''t have what it took to be a hunter like N. He couldn''t track things or expertly hide himself. He could only try his best to minimise the noise he was making, but even then, he didn''t know if what he was doing was right or not.


    He was sure, as he leapt from that branch to the one beneath it, sure that the Konbreakers would hear his approach, but they hardly even stirred. They werepletely absorbed in their pile of food.


    It seemed that the pile of monster meat for a monster was something like a pile of gold for a human ¨C they simply could hardly imagine anything better and they greedily wanted to eat it all before it disappeared.


    As Beam made his way to the lower branches, he started to look for a means to jump off ¨C something that would allow him an attack.


    One of the Konbreakers stood nearer to him than the rest, as it crushed a Gorebeast skull in its hands and greedily slurped up its brains. Its back looked particrly exposed as it stood there, with the shell being on the front of it. But Beam was wary of the tiny spikes that sat nestled into the skin.


    He''d noticed them before, as he was dealing with the corpses, and he was sure they must contain a poison of some sort, though he wasn''t willing to test that theory.


    He sprinted along the bottom branch, and drew his sword. The sound of steel sliding out from its sheath finally drew the Konbreakers attention. It turned to him, meat and bone still in its hands, just in time for Beam to leap from his branch and drive his sword straight through its brain.


    Hended with a thump, as the Konbreaker spasmed next to him. The other two Konbreakers eyed him with contempt, as he rose up from his crouch and pointed his sword at him threateningly.


    Contrary to Beam''s expectations, though ¨C they did not stop eating. In fact, their gluttony only grew, as though eating itself was the survival instinct ¨C as though that was what their body urged them to do in the face of an overwhelming threat, in the same way that some animals'' instincts urged them to freeze.


    Beam watched in rm as they continued to shovel food into their mouths at an abnormal rate. He stood there stunned for a split second, before he shot off his back foot, attempting to close the distance between him and the nearest Konbreaker.


    But even as he approached, the Konbreaker backed off. Both of them began to run around the pile of food, putting distance between themselves and Beam, eating all the while.


    Still, no matter how fast they ran, Konbreakers were rather slow by nature, at least whenpared to Gorebeasts and goblins. Beam soon caught up to the nearest Konbreaker and he struck out with his sword, aiming for its arms ¨C if it was so incensed with eating that it wouldn''t even defend itself, then Beam figured he wouldn''t let the chance pass.


    His sword slipped straight through the flesh and the arm fell to the floor, along with the rest of the food that it was eating. And yet, the Konbreaker still didn''t stop munching. It opened its beak wide and with its remaining hand, it managed to toss two more mouthfuls of flesh inside it.


    With that, it was as though a limit had been reached, a condition had been met, for even as Beam tried to close the distance between the two of them, there was such an explosion of growth, such a change in aura, that he was sted backwards.


    He skidded to a halt a distance away, barely managing to regain his footing, just in time to see the Konbreaker''s hair-raising evolution.


    "You''re kidding¡­" Beamined, realizing that his n hadpletely backfired. The goal was to make them easier to deal with. He hadn''t expected the lure of meat to be quite so effective that they''d risk even mortal injury to secure it.


    The bloody stump of an arm that Beam had left it with twisted and turned, as flesh bubbled around it for a moment, before there was an explosion of growth, and it shot out, like several thick vines. They bound together, giving it a new arm that was twice the size of its old one ¨C so thick that even as it stood upright, its entire forearm was resting on the floor.


    But the rest of its body was growing as well. It lifted its beak skyward and gave a blood-curdling shriek as its body continued to mutate.


    In the same way that goblins turned into hobgoblins, the addition of meat for the Konbreakers increased their size, and the state of their muscles, until they were twice the size of what they once were.


    But that was not the only difference. The spikes on its back grew ¨C the same spikes that Beam had suspected to be filled with poison ¨C and so too did the shell on the front of it evolve. It spread like a rash, moving from just its torso, to covering its shoulders and neck and the top of its thighs.


    It was not a single shell anymore, but a series of tes that moved when it did, entirely like a human-forged breastte.


    As if that wasn''t overwhelming enough, as that creature gave its roar to the sky, itsrade began to transform as well, growing simrly as tall, simrly as wide and simrly as mean-looking.


    Their aura was overwhelming. Beam recalled the first time he''d met the Konbreakers a day or two ago. He recalled that it was not an easy battle. Whilst he''d managed to im victory rtively unharmed, he''d had to use all that he had to offer in order to do it. And now he had two evolved versions in front of him.


    "This¡­ This is bad," he murmured, just in time for the first of the Konbreakers toe rushing in, its huge vice-like ws extended, aiming to grip the entirety of Beam''s body in them.


    ''It''s so fast!'' Beam thought to himself, his eyes widening. That was his one advantage above the Konbreakers in the past, and now the creatures had a speedparable to that of a Gorebeast, on top of being stronger than they were, and hardier too. source-at-MVLeMpYr

 Chapter 179: The Shadows - Part 4

    Barely managing to dodge out the way with a roll, Beam ducked, as the trunk of the tree behind him exploded in a mess of wood and sap,pletely shattered where the Konbreakers fist had hit it.


    And now the other Konbreaker was closing in too, zooming in from the opposite direction. Now that they''d secured their evolution, they seemed confident enough that they could avoid the pile of food, for it was Beam they focused on now in his entirety.


    He was forced to dodge again. He knew he couldn''t let those Konbreaker ws touch him ¨C he couldn''t even parry them with his sword, lest his steel shatter and he be left with nothing to defend himself.


    Now it was Beam''s turn to run around the pile of corpses, as he desperately tried to dodge their attacks, fear rising in his chest as he got an awful sense of foreboding. He''d massively underestimated the enemy. If allowed to evolve so freely, they were nothing if not a problem.


    Of course, the n had been sessful, in part ¨C and that there was the issue. The pile had attracted them too strongly, to the point of madness, that all the logic Beam had in ce was rendered irrelevant. He had carefully working to hide himself so that the monsters wouldn''t see him, yet that had backfired on him, for they cared not who was there ¨C they simply wanted to gorge themselves.


    And now Beam was paying the price of that misstep. A true trial by fire. His body was already achy from his battle with the horned goblins earlier and now he was being forced to deal with a threat that was orders of magnitude worse.


    He was forced to dodge incessantly. Flecks of mud, pine needs and even monster blood ¨C they all managed to find their way into his wide open mouth, as he was made to continually dive to the floor in a desperate bid for survival. He couldn''t even think about counter-attacking. Where on their body could he possibly pierce?


    Even the parts that weren''t covered by their shell armour, they were dotted with poison. Or, in the case of their limbs, they looked as though they were made out of stone. He could hardly imagine being able to get his sword into them, feeling the exact same problem as he had with the evolved hobgoblin.


    The pile that he had so carefully made earlier on was immediately strewn apart, as one of the Konbreakers grew tired of their game and merely charged through it, crushing bodies beneath its massive weight, and sending the rest of them flying with an irritated swing of its arms.


    Now it wasn''t just ws that Beam had to dodge, but flying corpses as well. He was made to dive out of the way, as the body of an unfortunate goblin sttered against the cliff-face behind him.


    Herded by the flying corpses, Beam''s movements grew more predictable. The other Konbreaker stepped in close, its beak cking as it backed up against the side of the cliff.


    There was hardly an opportunity for it, but Beam dared to nce behind him anyway, to see if there was any chance that he might use the rocky wall behind him to his advantage.


    The Konbreaker lowered its head and charged like a bull, only, instead of the curling horns of a bull, it had its huge boulder-crushing fists, both extended outwards like terrible drills.


    With no other option left to him, his escape routes entirely cut off, Beam was forced to leave his fate merely to timing. Just before the Konbreaker crashed into him, he turned and spun on his foot, leaping onto the wall.


    He didn''t manage to get very high before the ruthless pull of gravity kicked in, but it was enough. He kicked off it,unching himself to the side, awkwardly looking for an opportunity.


    The Konbreaker went rushing past, and Beam sliced its leg with his sword as he went, managing tond a scathing cut up its upper thigh. A secondter, in an explosion of rubble and dust, the Konbreaker crashed into the side of the cliff.


    Bits of rock pounded against Beam like a thousand fists. He raised his arms in a desperate attempt to defend his head, but he was still left feeling well and truly battered. Yet, in his situation, he was not given the slightest opportunity to rest. -content


    The Konbreaker''s arms were burrowed into the side of the cliff, rooting it in ce ¨C but even then, Beam knew it would only be a matter of time before it freed itself. And now the other Konbreaker was charging in.


    As he saw that mass of meat lumbering towards him, Beam''s mind went nk. He nced at the Konbreaker still stuck in the wall and hesitantly tried to stand in front of it, his heart pounding in fear all the while, as his body fought to let him know just how dangerous his positioning was.


    With a monster at his back about toe free at any moment and a monster spearing towards him from the front, Beam was in the most precarious situation he could have possibly put himself in. Yet, even as his hands sweat and his grip on his sword grew looser, he fought to calm that mind of his. He red at the Konbreaker, radiating all the bloodlust he had towards it, egging it on.


    It screeched at the provocation and only sped up, its hands extended outwards, just like the Konbreaker before it, it lowered its head in a charge.


    Beam felt a tremor from behind him and a gust of wind, as the other Konbreaker finally pulled himself free. He felt a shiver run down his spine, but he did as his instincts demanded and merely dived out of the way.


    With that, there was a mighty collision, a roar, a look of confusion, and then the spilling of much blood, as the charging Konbreaker''s outstretched ws ran straight through the other one, shattering its shell and spilling its guts.


    The two of them were the very picture of confusion, as they looked at each other, then towards the gaping wound and all the blood that was flowing from it. There was a pitiful whine, as though the Konbreaker was asking ''why?'' and then its legs lost their strength and its knees buckled. The ws only tore further into it, as a panicked Konbreaker fought to free himself.

 Chapter 180: The Shadows - Part 5

    And then Beam''s sword plunged into the back of its neck. Beamnded the blow with confidence, putting all his force behind it ¨C but even that was not enough to instantly kill it.


    Its confusion was reced by anger, as it let its friend fall from its blood hands and towards the floor. It felt for the wound on the back of its neck, saw its hand return bloody, and then it pointed at Beam and began to stride towards him with fury in every step.


    Beam readied himself. He bent his knees and spread his weight evenly beneath his feet, doing his very best to hold his ground and to prepare for the attack that was sure toe. He gripped his sword tightly, looking for any sign of weakness that there was in the Konbreaker''s defence.


    But just before it came into range, that creature copsed as well, a shocked look on its face, as the strength went from its legs. It was its left leg that buckled first, and it ended up on its side, before its right leg lost its strength with it, followed by its arms.


    It died a death of pure confusion, as blood pooled beneath it from the wound in the back of its head.


    Beam could only stand there staring, unsure of exactly what had just urred. He was pretty sure that it fell to the cut on the back of its head, but from the way it had been so confidently walking towards him, he''d been led to believe that such a wound was only shallow.


    And now there were two massive creatures in front of him, both of them dead and both of them of unfathomable strength. A strength that Beam knew he currently struggled to match. Well, not just struggled, he knew he certainly couldn''t match it, at least when it came down to pure physicality.


    But he felt that, in a pure one-on-one scenario, if he were to push himself to his limits, he felt that he might be able to match it there.


    Even then, it was dubious and was likely to be a highly fraughtpetition ¨C apetition that he was lucky to avoid. Somehow, it seemed thatplexity proved to be the creature''s biggest weakness. That and their size.


    With how big they were, and how strong, their intelligence couldn''t keep up. To maintain a size like that and fight to their fullest ability, one needed an awareness far beyond what a monster possessed, and in a tight space like the clearing, with so many trees their way and a cliff at their back, their strength and their size had proved to be more of a burden than anything else.


    With those two corpses at his feet, and the corpses of all the kills he''d neatly set up all strewn about the clearing, Beam was struck by a sudden wave of exhaustion, as he realized just how lucky he''d been to survive the encounter.


    "I''m no longer sure if this is a good idea¡­" he said to himself.


    There was now a solid hole in the side of the cliff from where the Konbreaker had charged in and got its ws stuck. Beam hesitated to call it a cave, for it wasn''t very deep. At most, it was only a few metres, but in eyeing that cave, he realized that he needed to make sure the bodies he had were better defended ¨C that was if he nned to keep using them at all.


    He''d known them to be potent boosters of strength after seeing the horned goblins use them to be something stronger, but after seeing just how quickly and recklessly the Konbreakers were able to evolve, he was feeling unsure of himself.


    He felt like he was using oil in order to contain fire. The slightest mishandling and the whole n would fall through.


    He nced at the sky. The moon was still low and the stars were bright ¨C the night had only just begun. There was much work to do.


    Somehow, Beam realized he''d have to get everything cleaned up again after the Konbreaker''s destruction. He couldn''t risk any of the monsters finding scraps of meat that he couldn''t defend.


    Heaving a massive sigh, Beam got to work. Dragging the Konbreaker corpses into that half-cave they''d created, that was the hardest part. Not only did their size make them heavy, but the shell armour that they wore must have weighed something insane too, because Beam quickly found himself straining hard under the effort of moving them.


    It wasn''t so bad with the first, cleaner corpse. But then there was the second one, whose insides had been spilt everywhere, leaving an awful stench as its partly digested remains stewed in the air.


    There wasn''t much else he could do other than just grit his teeth and pull, despite the mess. He heaved that second corpse next to the first one and breathed a sigh of relief.


    MVLeMpYr-the-story-tform


    And yet, already, there were new enemies on the horizon. He could hear the familiar sounds of goblins clicking, and soon enough, just a momentter, he caught sight of their green skin. With the meat scattered everywhere as it was, Beam had no time to waste.


    He darted forward and drew his sword. In the moonlight, he caught a glimpse of one of the goblin''s horns. Already, it had a lump of meat in its hand and was chewing frantically, its eyes darting this way and that all the while, as it looked for what else it needed toplete the evolution.


    Desperately, Beam closed the gap. He''d learned earlier that he was able to deal with evolved horned goblins, or at least their half-evolved version. But now, after his battle with the Konbreaker, he simply didn''t have the time to take things leisurely. His monster lure was working far too well, and there was meat strewn everywhere across the clearing.


    The more time he spent on these, the more the chances of other monsters arriving rose.


    The goblin attempted to skip out of range. There was no weapon in its hand. It had discarded its spear earlier, boosted by the lure of meat. With its attention only half on Beam, as it looked for more food to gorge itself on, it didn''t stand a chance as Beam''s sword came in swinging from above.

 Chapter 181: The Shadows - Part 6

    The goblin was already quivering as Beam entered its periphery. Itsck of attention only boosted Beam''s misdirection style, and in the goblin''s eyes, he was a massive shadow, ring from above, three times the size of a normal human.


    It squealed in dismay, as its body fell to the floor. Beam did his best to keep it all in one piece.


    As it fell, he grabbed it by the arm and flung it further into the clearing, where he would have a better chance of protecting it, as he looked to cut down the rest of the goblin''s party.


    A spear came at him from the side. It was much harder to see in the dark of the trees than it was in the clearing. Beam barely dodged it, but his reaction was too slow to raise his sword. Instead, heshed out with a fist, hitting it square in the nose, not doing much damage, but managing to stun it all the same.


    That was all the opening he needed, and with an increasing amount of desperation, he cut through it, knowing just how much speed was of the essence.


    An anxiety was rising in Beam''s stomach now, as he imagined all the monsters that were on the way towards him, and how slow he was. Any longer, and he was sure he''d be overwhelmed.


    "I need to get faster," he said to himself, his brow furrowed as he bit his lip. He scanned the trees with anger in his eyes, attempting to locate the rest of the goblin''s kin.


    He felt them before he saw them. He turned his eyes in the direction of a particr smell. A scent that he hadn''t ever smelt before. A scent that he''dtere to understand as fear.


    Three horned goblins froze up as his eyes fell upon them in the dark. "Die," Beam murmured, rooting them in ce and butchering the three of them together.


    MVLeMpYr-official-text


    As they fell to the floor, the forest went quiet once more. Beam strained his senses searching for any other signs of life, but he felt nothing. Confident that he''d managed to eliminate the entirety of the goblin party, he went to work throwing their corpses back into the centre of the clearing from amongst the trees.


    As he went, he did the same thing with the other scraps of meat that the Konbreakers had tossed everywhere. Some he had to jump up into the trees to fetch. Others, in the dark, hepletely missed.


    But still, as the minutes wore on, Beam''s work was proving to be effective, and nearly half of all the strewn-about meat was once again gathered in one ce.


    As Beam worked, he felt the hairs on his neck rising, as his body listened out for signs of approaching life.


    He looked up more than once to re at the trees, sure that something was there, but with the curtain of darkness cloaking everything, he couldn''t be sure, and within a few moments, he would move on, hurriedly trying toplete this mission of his.


    Soon, he''d got the worst of the meat from around the edges of the clearing, putting it once more into a protective pile that he could morefortably protect. But, after learning from his earlier mistake with the Konbreakers, he realized that such a position still wasn''t good enough.


    As he attempted to shift the corpses back towards the cave, so that they could be sat on top of the Konbreakers, he began to eye up the trees for fire materials, deciding that it would be better to get a bonfire burning, so he could slowly get through the corpse. Else,e morning, he wouldn''t be able to move for them.


    He''d hesitated to do such a thing earlier, for fear that it would scare the monsters off. But now that he''d seen just how effective a pile of monster meat was for a lure, he didn''t stop to think about it anymore. He knew that if he gave them even a little bit more leeway, he''d be overrun.


    With such thoughts in his mind, a pack of Gorebeasts came swaggering through the trees.


    Despite Beam standing there, with his hand on his sword, right by the pile of meat, it was as though the Gorebeasts werepletely ignoring him. They hoped to and fro in excitement on that singr front leg of theirs, the muscles of it rippling as they danced.


    One gave a squeak of excitement, as it yapped at the air. Another came through the trees after it, drawn by the noise. It too gave a burst of excitement upon seeing the pile.


    The two sprinted towards it together, their jaws already wide open ¨C which for a Gorebreaker, was wide indeed. With a near 180-degree opening, their jaws were more reminiscent of that of a snake than any other animal.


    The fire of the Gorebeasts went to dive in,pletely focused on the pile, as thoughpletely intoxicated by it. Beam was easily able to sever its head as it ran past. The head dropped to the floor, as the animal squeaked in surprise, but then it simply started eating, as its headnded amongst the pile.


    It wasn''t able to actually process anything, but for those brief few seconds of fading life, the Gorebeast had never been happier.


    It was only now that it had seen its friend killed right in front of it that the second Gorebeast noticed Beam. It began to growl. Its eyes flickering from Beam, to the pile, then back towards Beam again.


    The rest of the pack came skulking through the trees afterwards, their eyes simrly on the pile. Only upon noticing theirpanion''s growls did their gazes briefly turn towards Beam, as these assumed defensive postures, whilst moving towards the pile all the way.


    Beam didn''t have time to rest. As the Gorebeasts debated whether to simply run in and snatch the food or not, he was already running towards that which was closest to him. It managed to tear its eyes away from the pile for a brief second, enough time for it to put power through its front leg, sending it bounding to the side.

 Chapter 182: The Shadows - Part 7

    But that wasn''t enough. They could not afford such inattention when faced with Beam. As it sprung to the side, thinking it had dodged, Beam''s sword followed, cutting deep into its back, and breaking through its spine.


    He drove his sword through its skull a momentter, finishing it.


    Finally, the remaining four Gorebeasts had their attention on him, as he stood directly between them and the pile. One opened its jaws as wide as it could to hiss ¨C an intimidating disy, but one that wouldn''t deter Beam.


    Another bounced on the spot, running from side to side, looking for an opening in Beam''s defence that it could run past. Simrly, Beam was eyeing them, wondering how he could most efficiently deal with them.


    They were so focused on the pile that retreat wasn''t an option, which made this strategy a marked improvement from when he had to hunt them down in the past, only for them to dig underground and escape.


    But now he had a huge weakness at his back. If he allowed even a single one to slip past, that evolved beast would cause him significant problems. It was rare that he had to fight while protecting something other than himself, and as one might expect, he was rather unused to it.


    His style was entirely focused on attacking. On battering the enemy as well as he could until they made a big enough mistake for him to seize on. Here, he didn''t have the means to do that. If he ran forward, the Gorebeasts that he didn''t catch would simply run past him. Somehow, he needed to keep the four of them at bay at once. He needed to round them up with his movements.


    He fell to doing what he had tried on the horned goblins earlier that day, for in their standoff, there was nothing more he could do without making a fatal mistake. He would sidestep and sidestep, before stepping back and then stepping back again. It looked silly, with how clunky and forced his movements were, but slowly, he settled into a rhythm of doing it.


    And then once he was in a rhythm, he''d break it with his misdirection, he''d feint a step back, before diving forward. Every time he did that, the Gorebeasts flinched. With mere movement, of the simplest kind, he was able to coax a reaction out of them, he was able to wear at their defences, and build something.


    Yet Beam still didn''t know how to build. He''d seen it done through Dominus'' lens, where when the old warrior moved, not only were his attacks overwhelmingly powerful and urate, but every movement seemed to aplish more than Beam was able to do in several.


    Merely in twisting his arm a certain way, Dominus countered several attacking possibilities from the opponent, whilst, at the same time, he put himself in a better position to attack.


    Slowly but surely, those positional advantages would build up, until it was no longer a question of strength, or speed, the enemy just ended up so out of position that they didn''t have a single chance of defending themselves.


    Beam tried that. His movements didn''t aplish anything nearly as much as what Dominus'' did, but with no avenue of attack, he fell to exploring that which he''d noticed potential in before, however silly it might have seemed.


    With him concentrating as he was, merely probing, merely trying to invoke a response from the Gorebeasts, to break the equilibrium with the simplest movements that he could muster, to build a tform of attack that created a threat, whilst also keeping his own defence high.


    His movements sped up, and he took a step forward, yet with his posture as it was, it was as though he was assaulting multiple areas at once. The Gorebeasts felt the danger. With each step he took, he provoked in them visions of the future, letting him know which areas he could easily defend, with a swift motion. They had no counter for the space he was taking up.


    Yet it was nothing physical, it was merely a threat, a threat that couldn''t be tangibly felt by anyone except those engaged in thebat itself. Still, the threat was very real. The visions of the future they were forced to see and the danger they felt, it was all very real.


    One Gorebeast tried to challenge the reality it felt, it snapped, breaking out of the stalemate, eyeing the pile of meat that was behind Beam, as he slowly but surely prowled the circle, merely stepping forward and merely stepping to the side, his body testing the limits of the situation, as it searched for openings.


    The Gorebeast went streaming past. In that web of connections that Beam had built up, the Gorebeast tripped on a wire. Beam didn''t have to respond, he didn''t have to think of a reaction ¨C for the reaction had already been built moments before. It was the eb and flow of water. As the Gorebeast moved, so too did he move, as he attempted to be more fluid. brought-to-you-by-MvLeMpYr


    The Gorebeast ran straight into his sword, much to its own shock. It could have sworn the distance between them was greater than it was. But illusion became reality and reality became illusion. Before the Gorebeast had even started to move, Beam''s body reacted to the changes in the environment.


    He felt the bnce that he''d created shift, and he moved to fill that gap before the Gorebeast even knew what it was doing.


    And so, it executed itself, joining the pile.


    The stalemate was broken, thinking that Beam''s defence had also fallen through, the other Gorebeasts charged forward. Beam felt the shift in momentum, he felt all the attacksing towards him at once.


    It was with a swiftness that he executed the second beast, driving his sword through its side. With the fluidity of his movements, it appeared as though all the Gorebeasts were mere puppets on strings that Beam controlled. It seemed as though he''d managed to draw them all in, so that he might execute them at once.

 Chapter 183: The Shadows - Part 8

    But such were the limits of Beam''s own current understanding. Whilst able to imitate what he''d seen Dominus do, he wasn''t quite able to understand how it worked. In that face of all the beasts charging together, the defence that Beam had set up crumbled, and one of the beasts made it past him.


    Beam allowed it to go, knowing that his only chance was speed. He needed to deal with the third one, and quickly. It attempted to bounce in a different direction as Beam came in close, but Beam was far too quick for it. His sword found the soft flesh under its neck and he kicked it onto the pile.


    He turned his attention behind him. The loose Gorebeast had already made it to the other side of the pile, and its face was buried deep in meat. It ate with a gluttony that put all the other monsters to shame. It hardly seemed to chew. It merely opened that jaw that it had to impossible angles, and allowed food to drop down its throat.


    Beam sprinted towards it. The Gorebeast didn''t move, it merely intended to gorge itself on instinct, as though knowing that merely through food it could dodge the threat, for it would soon be granted overwhelming strength.


    Seeing it eat so quickly, Beam felt unbelievably slow. His feet seemed to sink into the ground as he ran.


    "STOP!" He demanded, but the Gorebeast''s soul was full of ecstasy, there was no fear for Beam''smand to take advantage of. It merely continued to eat. It ate until its flesh began to swell, evidence of its transformation.


    But before it could finish, Beam was upon it. He shed at its undefended side, before the beast could move itself to safety. Beam''s slice tore through its swelling flesh, leaving a deep gash.


    Yet, it seemed that such wounds were irrelevant whenpared with the swelling energy of the transformation. The gash closed in an instant as the creature''s flesh rippled and warped, as its tail grew longer, a mace-like ball spouting off the end of it.


    It doubled in height, and the ws on its front foot grew until they were the length of daggers. Its fangs lengthened until they spilt out of its mouth, unable to contain themselves within a closed jaw.


    It howled in delight as it felt power rush through its body, but Beam continued to hack away, even as the transformation sped on.


    The Gorebeast turned, using its newly transformed tail to send a crushing attack towards Beam. But the boy merely stepped back, and brought his sword down in a crushing blow, half-severing the newly transformed tail.


    With the transformation over, the wound did not regenerate, and the beast gave a murmur ofint, as though surprised that it could still be injured despite its new state of overwhelming strength. It bounced back for a moment, before lunging in off its hind legs, sending its monstrous front paw towards Beam''s face, the lengthy wsing within millimetres of ending his life.


    Beam grew annoyed seeing it. First the Konbreakers, and now this.


    Again, he was reminded of his own weaknesses. For the second time that day, his eyes zed, demanding further potential from himself. There was the earnest practising of techniques, the experimental approach, and trying things like a cautious scientist or an alchemist.


    And then there was the bold conqueror, who snatched progress for himself.


    A dark aura poured out of Beam''s body as that reckless desire came forth. His shadow seemed to double in size in the moonlight, as his presence bore down upon the Gorebeast.


    The beast paused a second, as though a deep chill had cut right to its bones. But it was not a sensation it understood, not anymore, not now that it was evolved. It didn''t realize that it was the sharp pang of instinctive danger.


    Beam attacked it recklessly in his anger, mere speed, mere strength, the abandoning of all technique. His sword was loose in his hand as he sprung at the Gorebeast, all semnce of defence forgotten.


    That caught the creature off guard. A creature that until now had been forced to y something that was more simr to a game of Battle than a brawl. A calcted struggle, of misdirection, of feints, of seizing the superior position.


    This was theplete opposite. This was the will of beasts in the woods, those that strove for more territory, more mates, more prey. It was reckless and overwhelming, and because of what Beam set up earlier, it worked.


    The Gorebeast was rooted to the spot on the defensive. It rose onto its back legs to defend Beam''s savaged attack with the weaponry of its front paw. But Beam''s attack didn''t stop there. His recklessness did not demand that he end everything in a single stroke. Instead, his movements were simr to that of his oldest enemy ¨C the goblin.


    The Gorebeast flicked its paw outwards, trying to send Beam hurtling back. But Beam was not overly attached to his sword, not anymore. When a force was pushed forward intent on taking it away, he would allow it its will, as long as he could get closer to his enemy. only-found-at-MVLeMpYr


    His sword spun upwards, high into the air, as he allowed it to fly from his grasp. But with that, he closed the distance between him and the Gorebeast, making it past the deadly front leg that formed the bulk of its defence.


    The creature attempted to bite him in its panic, but Beam was in a simrly savage state. He hit it with his fist as hard as he was able.


    The touch skull of the evolved Gorebeast made it feel as though his knuckle would shatter, but still, he did not let up. After that first right hand, stunning the beast, he hit it with a left, before diving in even closer and leaping up onto its back.


    It recovered from its disorientation, and upon feeling the new weight on its back, it began to buck madly, squealing in dismay. Beam gripped tight on its fur all the while, as he crawled further up its back, towards its neck, about to wrap its hand around its throat.

 Chapter 184: The Shadows - Part 9

    It urgently moved its head, trying to bite at his fingers. And then its front leg back to move too, trying to reach behind it. But the limbcked the dexterity of a human one, and it was unable to do much more than shake Beam to and fro.


    Finally, in atch ditch effort of panic, the Gorebeast dove to the floor, attempting to roll onto its back. But by now, Beam was already off it. His sword that had been tossed away was back in its hand.


    The Gorebeast was rolling around on its back, shrieking anxiously, when its eyes fell upon Beam, and the glinting steel in its hand. The two of them red at its exposed belly, and they both moved together, only, Beam was faster. His sword ran up the soft flesh of its underside, spilling its guts.


    With a whine of pain and the pooling of much blood, the creature lost its life.


    Beam was breathing heavily as he knelt on the ground, using his sword to hold himself upright.


    With the exhaustion building up, he barely had time to register that which he''d done ¨C that new fighting style that had been brought about by desperation. He merely got back to work straight away, as though the knowledge had spread deep within his bones: if he didn''t get these bodies dealt with, then eventually, he would die.


    There was some flint and steel in his pocket, as well as a few sheets of dry and papery birch bark ¨C a prime fire-lighting material with the highly mmable oil that ran throughout it.


    He began grabbing some of the low-hanging branches of nearby fur trees. With how dense the forest was, and how tall the trees had be, arge majority of these lower branches were dead, and therefore dry, for the tree had no use for branches that didn''t help it to absorb sunlight.


    With urgent movements he built his fire, trying to do several things at once, as he gathered the corpses of the Gorebeasts that he''d in into that central pile, whilst gathering what wood he could grab.


    Once there was a sizable pile of twigs on top of the birch bark, he shredded a little bit of the bark with his knife, making it into something closer to powder, so that it could easily catch the sparks of his flint and steel.


    Indeed, just as he''d done a thousand times before, when he struck the flint and steel together, the sparks sprayed and the powdery birch bark caught me instantly, before spreading to therger clumps of bark that he hadn''t torn up.


    Together, the bark burned, the me leant strength and duration by the resin that resided in it. As it burned and grew in strength, the dry sticks on top of it soon caught alight, and before long, there was a little fire burning rapidly. But as it was now, it was far from strong enough to easily deal with the monster flesh that Beam intended to throw on it.


    Beam continued to move urgently, gathering more sticks from what was closer to the clearing, all the while looking out and listening for any monsters that might be about. As he went, he looked out for any dead-standing trees that he could pull down with him. Lacking his axe, he was reliant purely on what he could forage merely through strength alone. read-only-on-MvLeMpYr


    With an arm full of sticks, he saw a treecking branches. He nced up towards the top of it, and sure enough, there were no branches there either. It had been dead for quite some time. He gave it a tentative push with his free hand, wondering if he would really be able to fell it without an axe, but with hardly any resistance at all, it toppled over, going ttering to the ground.


    He grinned, pleased that there was at least some luck to be had. He dragged the tree behind him, back towards his clearing. He tossed the sticks that he''d been carrying straight onto the fire, as he pulled the tree in between three others, and began to use his usual technique of using leverage to snap it into pieces.


    Slowly but surely, his fire was growing, as he tended to it, throwing more sticks and logs on it, as it grewrger all the while. The pine resin ¨C just as with the birch resin ¨C leant the wood a fervour as it burned.


    Usually, the speed at which it burned would be a source of irritation for people that wanted to keep their fire going for long periods of time, but today, it was perfect for Beam''s purposes.


    He began to throw some of the meat onto the fire, even as he continued to grow it.


    After it grew to a certain size, he grew wary of growing it much further, lest he set fire to the forest. With that realization, he started to pay closer attention to what he was doing, making sure his fire was a good distance from the trees, lest it spread.


    Even then, he realized that the underground roots of the trees could catch fire if he wasn''t careful. Such was amon cause of forest fires. With so many worries, so many things that could go wrong, Beam''s already fatigued state continued to grow even more tightly frayed.


    He decided to move his fire closer to the cliff. He began taking some of the half-burned pieces of wood out ¨C stuff that he could grab without the mes getting to him ¨C and putting it right at the entrance, right beside the two Konbreakers that he had in earlier.


    As he moved, he grew more and more satisfied with the idea. He realized that there was absolutely no point in keeping the meat out in the open. The monsters werepletely fervent when drawn in by its scent. As long as they noticed it, that was all that he needed. As long as they were drawn in, it was a victory for him.


    Not only that, but putting the fire right next to the cliff allowed him to grow it muchrger, for he wouldn''t have to worry about it spreading to the trees.


    He began to move faster, pleased that he was finally covering some ground and improving his position.

 Chapter 185 The Shadows - Part 10

    Chapter 185 The Shadows - Part 10


    He threw some of the corpses into the fire that he was building by the cliff, whilst throwing others over it to act as bait.


    As the fire grew, he realized that even the stuff that was meant to be acting as a bait would eventually burn, but that didn''t matter to him now. He was gathering bodies at such a rate that his only concern was getting rid of them, and continuing to deal with what wasing in.


    He was afforded a near thirty-minute window before any more monsters came, and during that time, he was able to clean up the clearing, and set up what he thought to be a far more optimal mode of defence.


    When he was done, he dared to breathe a sigh of relief.


    His little fire by the cliff was a menacing sight. With a mound of bodies rising up, burrowed in the half-cave that the Konbreakers had created, and the mes of therge fire burning in front of it, it seemed like a sacrifice of some sort. A thoroughly unsettling sight.


    Beam''s only worry now was that the smoke from the fire would lessen the effects of the lure, or even cancel it out entirely. But given how dangerous things had begun to get with the creatures continually evolving, he figured that it was the lesser of two evils. It was far too dangerous to use the corpses as a lure without a way to near certainly prevent the monsters from evolving, after all. n/?/vel/b//in dot c//om


    With his task temporarilyplete, Beam was afforded enough time to sit down.


    His clothes were aplete mess, with blood and gore soaking all the way through the fabric and coating his skin. The night was cold as well. When he wasn''t doing battle with monsters, he felt the coolness in the air nearly too strongly. His fire did much to remedy that, but in the end, he was hesitant to stay by it.


    Now that he had some means of protecting his pile of corpses, some way of slowing the enemies down, he wanted to hide himself once more. He went back to one of the trees on the edge of the clearing, somewhere close to the cliff, so he could act immediately if necessary. This time, he didn''t go high at all, he merely sat in the first of the lower branches, huddled up with his knees to his chest and his sword leaning against his shoulder, as he breathed on his hands, attempting to warm them up.


    He watched and he waited for his next enemy, as his stomach growled and fatigue ravaged his body. He''dpletely forgotten about the necessity of sleep, and as his eyelids drooped, he was beginning to pay for it.


    Movement within the trees drew his attention back to reality as he fought off the urge to sleep. Excited movements, it seemed. Green flesh caught the moonlight a momentter, as the creatures ran along the edge of the clearing in excitement.


    Beam sighed and slowly rose to his feet. He had been nning to get up anyway, since the pine wood that he''d put on was burning so rigorously, his fire needed topping up once more.


    But what Beam sawe after the goblins made him pause. He lowered himself back to a crouch, as true adrenaline began to pound through his veins.


    He hadn''t noticed it until then, but apparently, his body no longer saw mere goblins as a threat ¨C it had hardly begun to prepare itself for a fight. Only with the emergence of the shadowy figures that came trawling behind them did the hairs on the back of his head begin to rise.


    Robed figures, d from hair to toe in ck, with hoods up over their heads so that Beam could not see their faces. Nor could he even make out their shoes, as the robes easily reached the floor. They moved as though hovering, standing directly behind the goblins.


    The goblins seemed to notice that they were there, for they ran in front of the figures once or twice. Not only that, despite the corpse pile, they did not seem to be about to run away from the figures either, as though their movements had been limited to a certain range.


    The shadowy figures stepped into the clearing, with slow and purposeful movements, movements that shifted them forward, without allowing the motion to show within their body.


    They paused next to each other, as they regarded the fire that burned so furiously within the cliff. Hauntingly, slowly, they turned to look at each other. No words were said, but there seemed to be a silent form ofmunication, for as though in agreement, they began to walk forward.


    A goblin ran past one of them, and in a sudden sh, it reached out a long arm, grasping it by the neck. The creature struggled for a moment, and then it began to rx, as though sedated. It was not dead ¨C for Beam could see the slight movements of its fingers and limbs as it stayed within the shadow''s grasp.


    And then a dagger of darkness pierced straight through its chest. The creature cried out in pain, as the dagger moved, cutting out its heart, until it fell in a pool of blood onto the floor. The shadow allowed the body to fall after it. It hit the ground with a wet sound.


    Its brethren regarded the death calmly, without a hint of anxiety. It only made them slow for a moment, as if out of curiosity, before they began to speed round once more, excitedly cking, but still staying within range of the shadows.


    A rabbit darted out of its burrow as the group advanced. Its burrow was nearer the cliff ¨C nearer the fire that Beam had set. He felt apologetic upon that realization, seeing that it was he that had forced it to be chased out of its hole.


    It ran with frantic movements, heading for the trees. There was a clear note of rm as it picked up upon the presence of the goblins, and it darted to change direction. But with a motion of a shadowy arm, three of the goblins began to chase after it.


    One came from one side, another goblin came from another, and thest came from directly behind. The animal tried to dodge and pivot one way, only to run into the ruthless mouth of another.

 Chapter 186 The Shadows - Part 11

    Chapter 186 The Shadows - Part 11


    A shallow bite, and the goblin ended its life, before meekly taking it in its hands and offering it to the shadowy figure. Beam had never seen a goblin kill anything so cleanly. It had only taken the rabbit''s life, and nothing more ¨C its corpse was still well intact.


    The shadowy figure made a motion, and the rabbit''s corpse ended up on the ground by its feat, next to the corpse of the goblin that the other shadow had killed earlier.


    The two shadows shared a look, before they both reached their arms into their opposite sleeves. One withdrew a small bright pink crystal, whilst the other withdrew a simrly small crystal, only this one had a purple hew.


    Beam watched on, trying to force his pounding heart to stop. His body still attempted to shiver against the cold, but Beam resisted those instincts, as he desperately tried to keep his presence hidden. This here was exactly what he was looking for. Finally, after all the monsters he''d in ¨C he was getting closer to something beyond them.


    He eagerly watched, trying to find out as much as he could.


    The darkest of the crystals was thrust into the chest cavity of the goblin, where its heart had been moments before. A dark dagger was manifested by the other shadow, as it cut into the rabbit, withdrawing its own heart, before forcing the lighter pink crystal inside of it, blood dripping to the floor all the while.


    When the two crystals were in ce, the shadows lowered the corpses to the floor. And then, as if by silent agreement, the two stomped down, shattering ribs in a gruesome disy, as they sent blood and viscera flying. But that was not all they crushed ¨C Beam saw that the crystals were shattered too. n/?/vel/b//jn dot c//om


    In a sparkle of powder, the two crystals disappeared underfoot, and rained down upon the two corpses. After that, the shadows withdrew a few steps, and the transformation began.


    An aura of darkness swept the clearing, enough to cause chills down Beam''s back. He felt a great distorting demonic presence, if only for an instance. And then the corpses began to shudder, as if through rigamortis.


    The rabbit''s limbs twisted and cracked as it spasmed. A shocking sound. A horrifying sight. Enough to make Beam begin to feel nauseous, even after all he had seen from the monsters before.


    Drops of darkness distorted the rabbit''s grey fur, as though it was being moulded by several pairs of demonic hands. Its neck snapped backwards, the bones breaking, and then its jaw swelled, fangs growing until they spilt out from it.


    Its blood grew darker and darker as well, as the creature grew in size. Dirt from the soil rose up to support the construction, as though by some force of gravity.


    Next to it, the goblin was simrly growing, simrly transforming, if only by a slightly less gruesome means, as the transformation itself seemed less severe. Beam only saw it growrger, its muscles grow thicker and its ears grow longer. It was the transformation process he''d seen before, only with a greater hint of darkness.


    There was no mistaking that this was a hobgoblin being born. Not just the half-evolved states that he''d seen before in the day, but a pure hobgoblin, with the menacing aura to support it. Beam felt his skin tingle. Even after killing the evolved hobgoblin, he didn''t think he''d ever get over his distaste for the creatures. They reminded him of his weakness.


    As a new hobgoblin was born, and it gave a roar to indicate the end of the process, next to it, a new goblin was born. The rabbit was transformed into something entirely unrecognisable. It was as though its flesh had been liquefied, to give its moulder greater freedom to transform it.


    Its fur was nowhere to be seen, instead there was merely green skin and angry eyes ¨C the product of madness. If this was how they were born, it made sense to Beam that the monsters were so erratic. He knew there was a chance of monster births urring naturally ¨C if there was enough dark mana to feed on. But this, this was anything but.


    He gripped his sword, having seen enough. He couldn''t allow the shadowy figures to give rise to an even more powerful army. All there was at the moment were 6 goblins,plete with a hobgoblin. No horns as of yet ¨C Beam did not know how such things were made, but he could only assume that it was through a simr process as what he''d seen.


    Either way, he would find his answers, he decided. He resolved to kill one shadow, and capture the others alive.


    Just as he scaled down the side of the tree, quietly hitting the floor, the two shadows began to advance on his fire, with the army of goblins that they had created. Eam had no doubts about their intentions ¨C though he did wonder, were they not worried that the creator of the fire would still be around?


    Wary of such a thought, Beam approached them even more cautiously, lest he be forced to find out that they were merely pretending not to notice him.


    Just as he scaled down the side of the tree, quietly hitting the floor, the two shadows began to advance on his fire, with the army of goblins that they had created. Eam had no doubts about their intentions ¨C though he did wonder, were they not worried that the creator of the fire would still be around?


    Wary of such a thought, Beam approached them even more cautiously, lest he be forced to find out that they were merely pretending not to notice him.


    He quietly circled through the trees, looking for a better opening for attack. The shadows neared the bonfire, their goblin allies next to them. One of them made a motion with its arm, and the hobgoblin started forwarding with a bellow. It eyed the fire nervously, clearly put off by its heat, but that did not make it take a backwards step. Even risking burning its own body, it seemed it intended to force its way through. It raised a fist. That was Beam''s signal to dart in.


    He made no battle cry, for he was not a goblin, nor a monster. His own purpose was ying. The goblin nearest him noticed him first, as Beam''s feet pounded against the frosty forest floor, his movements terrifyingly fast. The creature gave a squeal ¨C but a mere goblin was no match for Beam any more. Not when he had been trained against their more intelligent and stronger brethren ¨C the horned goblin.

 Chapter 187 The Shadows - Part 12

    Chapter 187 The Shadows - Part 12


    Beam''s sword split it in two. He made sure to wreck the body as much as he could. He wasn''t sure if that truly did anything to the process of monstification ¨C if it prevented crystals from being used. But from how he''d seen the shadowy figures strive to keep the corpses intact, he thought that at the very least, it would serve as a hindrance.


    Eight pairs of eyes drifted around at the goblin''s warning. Even this close, Beam could not see any faces beneath the hoods of the shadows.


    They turned to him, with less urgency than one might expect for people ¨C or things ¨C whose lives were certainly in danger. With an arm motion from one, the goblins, as a collective, gave a shriek. The hobgoblin bounced delightedly to the front of the enraged army, as though pleased to have been relieved of its task of dealing with the fire.


    Beam met it with irritation in his eyes. No matter what happened, the sight of a hobgoblin still did not fail to stir his blood. He breathed in deeply, calling upon more of himself, as he prepared for battle.


    With his sword lowered, he ran straight in. The hobgoblin charged to meet him, drawing back its fist. Its movements were nked by four lesser goblins, two on each side, as they tried to catch Beam in a pincer attack.


    Just before he got within striking range of the hobgoblin, Beam drew back, just in time for a massive green fist to go flying past his face. And then Beam pivoted to the side, attacking the lesser goblins instead.


    The creatures attempted to halt their movements and change direction, but they were much too slow. The edge of Beam''s sword found the first one''s shoulder, before slicing straight through its spine.


    For the second one, Beam was forced to lunge in and slice off a leg, before following up after it, and crushing its skull under his boot.


    The hobgoblin roared its fury. By the time Beam turned around again, a fist was already nearing his face. Beam deftly avoided it. Hobgoblins were certainly strong, he realized again. They had the edge on unevolved Konbreakers, if only because of their speed.


    Their strength was simr, at least in their swinging motions and in the power of brute attacks ¨C of course the Konbreakers had the massive upper hand when it came to grip, being capable of crushing tough rocks with those vice-like ws.


    But even as the Hobgoblin made the air in front of Beam rush, his heart did not give way to pure fear. There was a nervous instinct instead, a warning, an adrenaline, keeping him sharp. But this hobgoblin, he realized, with its rippling muscles and its burning hatred¡­ It wasn''t quite as strong as he remembered.


    He moved his head to the side to allow a fist to pass over him, and then he drew his sword, catching the extended arm along the bicep. The hobgoblin roared in dismay, as Beam easily sliced through what had once been an unbearably tough hide.


    The creature quickly put distance between them, as the rest of the goblins came charging in at Beam to take its ce, 6 of them.


    Beam stood his ground, without taking his eyes off the hobgoblin. Even in a group as they were, mere lesser goblins were no longer worthy of consideration. They charged in as a pack, but owing to theirck of movement, it wasn''t that much different to if they had attacked individually.


    In a whirl of steel, Beam eclipsed them. He severed an arm, before moving on to the next goblin, managing to slice it across the face and spill its brain. And then a leg, as he ducked to dodge a strike, whilst getting in a counterattack.


    Then, as he came up out of that, a swift kick, before skewering another goblin down the middle.


    By the time their charge was over, by the time they''d neared him, half the goblins were dead and the other half were mortally wounded. n/?/vel/b//jn dot c//om


    They screamed in fear, truly overwhelmed. And then Beam got a new insight, a new way to grow his second style, that of the overwhelming de. It was not mere strength that could show the difference between oneself and the enemy ¨C it was speed.


    With speed in mind, he finished the rest of them off.


    As he stood there, surrounded by corpses, he felt the weight of that speed. He hadn''t been paying the attribute much mindtely, but now he noticed that he was, without a doubt, faster than before, and stronger too.


    "I can''t neglect what I''m good at," he murmured to himself. Speed, strength, misdirection and pure animalistic chaos. The day had been ripe for new insights. That was without acknowledging the building of victory, the imitation of what he had seen Dominus carry out, though he had yet to understand it.


    In the same way that his side steps and his moves forward had served as a victory before, he used his attacks against the goblins to build a victory against the hobgoblin. He knew it had seen the fight; it had seen the movements, and so it had learned to fear them. Beam used that fear against it, even without using his power.


    He closed the distance between the two of them. The hobgoblin''s weight was already drawing back, as it attempted to put more distance in between them once again.


    Beam recognized those fearful eyes. He well understood that emotion. He''d felt it more than once. It was half of what was necessary to be a struggle.


    The other half? That was found on Beam''s face. The hardness of heart to recognize that fear and charge forward anyway.


    Beam ducked in low, attempting a kick, just as he had done on the goblins before it. Having noticed the strike, and recognized it, the hobgoblin overreacted. There was a look of overexcited glee, as its fear found it an opportunity, and it put all its weight behind a strike.

 Chapter 188: The Shadows - Part 13

    But whereas it had ovemitted, Beam had merely faked the motion. The hobgoblin was stood over where he thought Beam to be, its fangs widened in eager anticipation, as it raised its fist high into the air, about to deliver the final blow.


    Yet, Beam wasn''t there. He was already by its side, his own sword swinging towards its unprotected midsection. The hobgoblin''s eyes managed to flicker and acknowledge him, but its body had yet to respond.


    Beam''s de dug in, tearing out a chunk of flesh. The hobgoblin immediately buckled topensate for the overwhelming wound. But that buckle cost it its life, as Beam plunged the point of his sword through its neck and allowed it to fall to the ground.


    He could hardly describe the satisfaction he felt in dealing with a hobgoblin sofortably. But even as his lips fought to curve into a smile, as they sought to enjoy the victory ¨C the true enemies were up ahead, still standing there, watching in eerie quiet.


    He turned towards them, flicking blood from his de. Since they made no move to speak, neither did he. In his mind, he decided to kill one, so that he could easily restrain the other. He did not know what fighting capabilities they had, and so he went forward cautiously. Beam knew nothing of mana, after all ¨C he did not know from where the attacks mighte.


    Even as he walked towards them, the shadows hardly made any moves. One merely drew into its sleeve, pulling out a darkened dagger. Or at least, that was what Beam thought it was at first. Now that he could see it up close, he could tell that it was just ordinary steel. And that hand that gripped it, that was just an ordinary hand.


    Beam narrowed his eyes, before allowing his body to pick up speed, he moved in testingly, inviting the enemy to show off its cards. exclusive content mv-lempyr


    But what came at him was merely the swing of a normal human. A weak arm that moved slowly. Beam had been nning to dodge it, merely to figure out its attacks, but upon instinct, the sword had plunged its way through the chest of the shadow, and dark red blood well at the wound.


    The hood of the figure fell back, as the bodynded on the ground. A man, with grey hair and a wrinkled face. He was grasping at the wound on his chest, as his mouth moved but no words came out.


    And then his body began to fade. Not his life, not the light in his eyes ¨C but his body itself. Beginning with the wound at his chest, a ckened decay spread through him. When he reached his face, his body began to copse into piles of ash.


    After a few seconds, nothing remained, not even a dark cloak. Even the pile of ash was gone after just a moment, as though the man never existed.


    The only evidence of his life was the blood on Beam''s sword.


    With a grim look on his face, Beam processed the scene in front of him. He''d just killed his first man ¨C though it was hard to call him that, given just how he died. He wasn''t sure how he felt about such an act, but nor did he have time to process those feelings. The other shadow in front of him was stood frozen, not attempting to run, merely standing there with a patientness.


    The way he stood, despite seeing how easily his partner had fallen ¨C that was the most eerie thing about them. They were human, evidently, yet there was something inhuman wound into them, something that forced them past the normal naturalws, and into something darker.


    Beam approached the man, pointing with his sword. Despite it seemingly being unnecessary, he approached him with the same caution that he had approached the other man. He kept his distance, wary of counterattacks, and then when the distance was right, Beamshed out with a kick, easily tossing the man''s legs from under him, sending him sprawling to the floor.


    He was weak, so unimaginably weak. Perhaps by a normal human''s standards, he''d be normal ¨C he was just like everyone else in the vige. Maybe he was even stronger. But to a boy whose entire experience of fighting was monsters and the most powerful knight in the kingdom, this man was far too weak.


    As he held the shadow in ce with the point of his sword, Beam moved to pull back the hood. With a swift jerk, he unveiled them.


    A woman this time, with short ck hair, and a weathered face that made her seem like she was in her middle ages. Her mouth was moving, as though she was swearing at Beam, cursing him, yet no words came out, nor was there any other sign of her resistance.


    "Can you not talk?" Beam said with a frown. "Tell me ¨C these monsters, for what purpose are you bringing them to life? What are these crystals that you''re using?"


    The woman looked as though she wasughing at his questions, though Beam could not hear the sound, he could only see her face contorted in evident delight.


    And then something ck began to spill out of her mouth, like the ink of a squid, it spilt down her chest, and she began to choke. But the delight did not leave her face for even a moment.


    Beam took a step back in rm, putting distance between himself and the woman. He knew nothing of magic, nor its capabilities ¨C and this ckness, that was magic to him. As was all that he had seen that day.


    Yet the ckness made no moves to attack him, it seemed, even as it continued to spill out from the woman''s mouth, a seemingly endless well of it. It kept spilling out until her entire body was drenched in it.


    After a certain point, it ceased to be a liquid, and more seemed to have a life of its own. There was a thickness to it now, as it grasped for every part of her body, reaching all the way down to her feet, and then for her hands, and then for her neck. And still, the womanughed.

 Chapter 189: The Shadows - Part 14

    Beam watched in dismay, as the ckness continued to consume her. He could feel the evil in the liquid now that there was so much of it. He was right to put distance between him and her.


    thank you for using mv _l _e _mpy _r


    Then, just like the man before, her body began to crumble, and she faded away into ash, her face cracking into many pieces, still contorted in a mad smile of someone truly delighted with what they''d born witness to.


    Then she too faded away.


    "Hah¡­" Beam breathed out, shook to the core. Never before had he seen human life vited so thoroughly. Monsters were one thing, animals were another, but to see that which he shared biology with, that which had a chance of truly emphasising with¡­ To see that rendered so ghastly. It shook him.


    He was shaken too by the fact that he had ended one of their lives. He did not hate himself for it. There was a reason for that ¨C a reason that his master had given him. The responsibility to protect the vige, that fell to him now. It was that responsibility that lent him the strength to deal with the first man that he had killed.


    Just as Arthur had grown to an immeasurable strength from taking on the protection of an entire country, so too was Beam able to stay strong, despite such an event.


    As Beam dwelled on such thoughts, as an uncertainty welled in his chest, the cliff behind him began to rumble.


    He saw eyes beyond the mes.


    "How!?" Beam murmured. He was sure that every body that he''d put in there was dead, and yet those were unmistakably the eyes of a monster.


    The hot logs that had been burning so ferociously before, they were cast aside with a vicious movement, dismantling the bonfire that had been built up, and coating the clearing in mes, sparks and smoke, as burning wood was strewn everywhere.


    From beyond the mes, what remained of the fire and the embers, there emerged something that even monsters would call a monstrosity.


    He didn''t know exactly what it was. There was the unmistakable shell of a Konbreaker at its very centre, but the creature was on all fours, as though it were a Gorebeast, and yet, it didn''t have three legs, it had four.


    Those four legs were rippling with muscle, green awful muscle, the muscle of a goblin. And then the ws that extended from them, they were more reminiscent of the daggered ws of the Gorebeast.


    The creature was already four times the size of a hobgoblin. It wasn''t a monster; it was a Titan. Even as it stood that tall, its shape was not yet solid. It still had a liquid quality to it, just like the rabbit''s body had when it was undergoing the process of monstification.


    Only, this creature drew in all the corpses around it. That corpse pile that Beam had so carefully crafted, already a quarter of it was missing, and now, all that stood near the Titan was drawn closer, as though by gravity. The flesh started to melt, as it tried to augment its shape even more.


    "Gods!" Beam cursed, seeing that it was still growing. Despite the overwhelming danger, he rushed in, now that it simply couldn''t be allowed to grow any more.


    The creature bellowed at the sky, an ecstasy in its tone. It had not noticed Beam yet. Beam rushed in, and moved to sever that half-liquid line of flesh that was flowing from the Titan to the pile of half-charred corpses.


    Beam''s sword easily passed through it, but the flesh was sticky, like goo. It clung to his sword, and wreathed around on it. He had to fight hard in order to fling it off.


    The Titan finally noticed Beam. It seemed to see that the pool of infinite mass that it had seemingly been provided was severed.


    Where the connection had been on its body, there was now the bubbling of flesh, as its shape became more consistent, and the organic matter hardened.


    The rage was more than evident on its face, as all that power was denied to it.


    Its fist came shing down at a speed that Beam could hardly process. He jumped backwards, just in time for a shockwave to pass through the air, and a massive dent to appear in the ground where he had just been standing.


    Fighting to steady his feet, Beam acknowledged his foe. Though he''d somehow managed to stop it from growing any further, this was undoubtedly an adversity of the most overbearing sorts.


    In it, it was clearly made up of several goblins ¨C that Beam knew for sure, since he''d seen what was missing from the pile. Two Konbreakers were also gone, as were four Gorebeasts. It was enough to make a monstrosity of the highest order. An overwhelming pressure that Beam was sure could tten trees.


    The Konbreaker head that it had was more menacing than any Konbreaker Beam had seen before. There was a helmet over its cheeks, as dark red eyes peered out. It roared out its anger to the sky, cursing Beam for denying it its greatest form.


    Seeing that which should not exist, Beam could only assume it was a parting gift left by the two shadows. He did not see when they had done it, but they must have thrown a crystal at the pile of corpses. Or maybe even several.


    But Beam had assumed ¨C after seeing them so carefully do it twice ¨C that the crystal needed to be in the ce of the heart. If so, then what was this that he was seeing? What was this great evil that sought to rule the entire forest? Though he''d finally got a lead on the monster spawning, now there were even more questions to be had.


    Of course, against a Titan of this magnitude, questions didn''t seem so bad. Every cell in Beam''s body screamed for him to flee. It was the overwhelming difference in power that he had felt when first confronted with a hobgoblin, back when even a lesser goblin was a threat to him.

 Chapter 190: The Shadows - Part 15

    No, in fact, it was worse than that. Much worse. He had never experienced a difference in aura so great that it felt like his limbs were heavier.


    Of course, there was fear ¨C there was always fear. Beam was used to fear, and he was used to pain. To a struggler, those were merely facts of life.


    But an actual physical change? That was new. It was as though he was caught in several thousand spiderwebs, and they slowed his every movement as he fought to rid himself of him. But all the while, the spider was only adding more threads, and if Beam''s heart weakened for even a moment, he was sure he''d be trapped in ce.


    Against a threat so overwhelming, against what should be certain death, three parts of him responded separately.


    From udia''s blessing, there came an overwhelming pang of despair, as though the Goddess herself was taking pity on his situation.


    From Ingolsol''s curse, there came maddened delight, as shadowy fingers grasped up towards the moon, and invited more chaos into the mortal world.


    And from Beam, he that had subjugated both of those fragments of Gods, there came¡­ anger.


    He could feel it. Despite the creature''s strength, despite that overwhelming physicality, he could sense weakness in it, a weakness of soul.


    Just as with the evolved hobgoblin, he could tell whaty beneath that flesh. Just because it could decimate several trees in a single swing, it did not mean its soul had grown.


    Beam wasn''t sure what that meant. He wasn''t sure if this was merely a limitation in the ritual that the shadows performed. If perhaps it was the limitations of the crystals that they used instead. But the soul in the creature was no greater than that of a hobgoblin, he could tell.


    His body feared it, yet his heart belittled it. He needed a way to prove its weakness.


    The Titan didn''t care about his ridicule, for it could not feel it. Nothing in physical reality supported that sensation. The creature charged towards him, faster than any Gorebeast, its legs full of power.


    Just before it hit, it lifted one of those front arms up ¨C they were indeed more like a goblin''s arms than a Gorebeast''s legs, for they had such dexterity ¨C and sent a fist charging towards Beam at a truly outrageous speed.


    Never before had Beam had to fight something so fast.


    There was a loud noise, as this fist hit even harder than thest one. It pounded straight into the frosty earth, sending dirt flying, and leaving a crater the size of arge puddle, with a simr depth. But such was the strength needed topress the dirt at all.


    Beam realized, watching it, that if he was caught even once, his limbs would likely be shattered. Especially if he was caught in one of those downwards crushing attacks that the creature seemed to be so fond of doing ¨C that would certainly cave in his skull and fracture his spine.


    His eyes were narrowed in dismay as the creature kept up this reckless assault. He could feel his body shivering from the fear. The difference between these two life forms was so immense. It was like a tiny tropical fish caught in the eyes of a great white shark.


    But even as his body trembled, Beam''s rage only continued to build. He could see no opening, nor could he even envisage victory at all.


    The least he could do was roll out of the way at thest second. But the strikes were getting closer and closer. Beam''s body had reached a limit hours ago. The physical endurance needed to battle all night long as he had, was something approaching legendary. And now, as if the Gods themselves were cursing him, a threat far eclipsing the rest had spawned when he was in his worst shape.


    Beam was forced back towards the cliff, as he continued to dodge around the clearing. mes were still flickering on smouldering bits of wood, as they were strewn everything through the clearing. He had to step through hot ash and smouldering embers as he ran.


    The Titan seemed half confused, with so many different creatures wound into one. He had the erratess of a goblin, but to a more disturbing degree. It would charge at him, intent on running him down, as it did so now.


    It charged towards him, backing his back against the cliff. And then, for the second time, it ground to a halt, just out of range, and began to slowly walk him down, using its body as a threat, cutting off the areas in which Beam could safely move.


    It would yoyo between those two modes of attack, those two strategies. It was truly broken.


    It was then that Beam realized that its soul was even weaker than that of a hobgoblin ¨C for at least a hobgoblin was one entity. Now, present in this creature, it was clear to see that there was more than one consciousness battling for control.


    A fist came streaming past Beam''s face, and pummelled its way into the rock behind it.


    Beam managed to duck under the outstretched arm as it connected with the rocky wall, just in time for a stream of stone toe flying down, nketing where he was just standing.


    Both goblins, and this creature struggled to retain control of their erratess. Horned goblins had evolved past that. Why? What was it about those creatures, in their states, that lent him that? What was the connection between this beast''s behaviour, and that of a goblin?


    He assumed it was because of the numerous souls battling each other for authority. But was that the case in goblins as well? He didn''t know. It could have been the case that, the monstrousness inside a goblin was undeveloped ¨C that it was still at war with whatever animal or whatever bit of organic matter it had possessed, and thus had not sessfully subordinated it yet.

 Chapter 191 The Shadows - Part 16

    191 The Shadows - Part 16


    But that was just a theory, a theory that Beam didn''t know how to apply.


    The creature continued to cut off Beam''s escape routes, through a series of charging, and through slowly walking him down. He was soon pinned against the cliff, an irritated look on his face, as his body continued to tremble in dismay. His sword arm quivered as though afflicted by the cold of the wind.


    Beam eyed it, looking for an opening. He just wanted one counterattack. That was the only n in his mind now. The creature was outrageously fast.


    WHAP!


    Another fist crashed into the wall behind Beam. This one cut his cheek as it flew past. Beam wasn''t sure whether he was getting slower, or whether the creature was getting faster.


    His counterattack after that swinging fist wascking. Normally, due to his superior speed, his counterattacks came like an instinct. They swung themselves without him having to think about it.


    But now his body was reluctant to throw it. His mind had to force it to work, and his timing waspletely off.


    He raised his sword and shed the outstretched arm.


    But the de merely bounced harmlessly off, as though Beam had tried to cut an outrageously thick piece of leather.


    The Titan paused for a moment and narrowed its eyes. Its beak parted in what looked to be a mocking smile. And then a fist came straight after.


    Beam couldn''t dodge this, he was far too out of position. All he could do was twist his body, and try to ride out the impact.


    He made sure his back wasn''t against the cliff, as he twisted off to the right, holding his sword in front of him in a defensive posture. The giant green fist came hooking in. It caught him full-on and sent him flying.


    The speed at which he elerated sent Beam''s organs crashing against his ribcage, making his vision momentarily sh ck.


    Hended hard on the ground, but the speed still hadn''t left his body. He went skidding for a distance, before the trunk of a thick tree came to halt him.


    His head was forced upwards when hended, as he was made to witness the bright shining stars up above.


    In the past, this was about the time when Dominus would have stepped in, Beam realized. As the boy was confronted with an overwhelming enemy, far greater than he was, without a chance at victory. But Dominus was busy with his own training now, and it was for but a single reason that he left the boy to his own devices: after his victory over the evolved hobgoblin, Dominus hade to trust him.


    But even Dominus could not predict that a creature such as this Titan would arise by itself. And now Beam was left on his own to fend against it.


    A figure blotted out the light of the stars, as it came bounding over from its spots by the cliff, its movements gleeful, its body more coordinated than before. The weakness that Beam had seen, the weakness of several conflicting souls in one ¨C it seemed to be rectifying itself.


    But still, Beam couldn''t sense true strength from it, even if it was unified.


    Though, such a thing didn''t quite matter. The creature was growing faster as it gainedplete control of its body, as it learned to move it. It was growing stronger too for the same reason. Beam''s own body could feel that. The shaking of his limbs grew more intense, as he felt the overwhelming urge to flee. But even if he ran, the creature was faster than him by now. All that he would achieve would be putting the rest of the world in danger due to his blunder.


    He needed to deal with it here and now, but how?


    Beam ducked carelessly, still waking up from the previous blow.


    Wind rushed overhead and wood sprayed, as the tree behind him snapped in half and went tumbling backwards.


    The Titan''s vicious attack did not end there, though. Even after that ruthless fist, there came another one, as the creature bnced on its hind legs, and reigned down blow after blow.


    Beam dove aimlessly in a single direction, but the destruction followed him. The anger was bubbling up inside of him now. Just how was he meant to prove the weakness in this creature? How could he best it when the physical difference between them was so vast?


    Darkness swelled as he looked deep within himself for that answer. His movements were pitifully slow, he needed to get stronger, he needed to get faster.


    Ingolsolughed in delight within him. Beam''s rage was so vast, that as the Dark God cackled, Beam''s own soul bit at it in anger. "Silence," he demanded. But the God only continued tough.


    Beam clenched his fist. If only he could see him. If only he could tell what the manifestation of that curse looked like. If only he could properlymunicate with him, rather than just feel this dull dark feeling in his stomach. He was sure he''d tear that Dark God to pieces.


    As his anger boiled, and Ingolsol cackled, he felt a gentle hand on his shoulder. There were no words, but there was an instinct towards calmness, as though telling him that giving inpletely to rage would only lead towards his doom. He understood that touch to be the blessing of udia, though he had never felt her so strongly before. n/?/vel/b//in dot c//om


    Even as he warred with the Titan, as it chased him around the clearing, as it grew ever closer with every hit, and it sped up faster to corner him, there was the war inside the boy''s soul going on.


    He may have managed to subordinate both blessings in his battle with the hobgoblin, but as Dominus had known from a time ago ¨C it was a tightrope he had to walk in order to keep them under control. Both of them offered him potential, both of them offered him room for growth. But if he favoured either one of them too strongly, the other would rebel and his soul would finally copse under the weight of that imbnce.

 Chapter 192 The Shadows - Part 17

    192 The Shadows - Part 17


    Ingolsol tempted him towards the path of dark domination.


    udia wanted to make a hero out of him.


    Beam turned on his foot, to face off against the charging Titan. Its eyes opened in momentary surprise, as Beam''s sudden decision to attack caught it off guard. It was in so close now that its fist passed easily over Beam''s ducked head.


    But the beak was there to take its ce. Like a pair of scissors, its jaw opened, going for Beam''s neck.


    Darkness swirled around him. He wanted the beast to submit, but he didn''t have the power to make it do so. It was a hero''s power that he needed, something to lend his de strength. It was the overwhelming style of swordsmanship that he had begun to train, unconsciously drawn towards the path of its light.


    His sword came down on the beast head-on. He calmed his fears and faced it anyway. His shoulders bunched up as he put more power into the blow than he had ever managed before.


    There was a brief moment of struggle, as the creature tried to hold his sword at bay, and as Beam tried to force it down. But then it flicked its head, and Beam''s sword was forced off to the side, the boy alongside it.


    ws shed from the Titan, as those dagger-like weapons shed down the length of his back, and Beam was flung a distance away.


    "Gaghh!" He cried out, as he finally came to a halt. He could feel the burning pain running down the length of his back. Three distinct rivers of it. There was a warmth to it too, as blood gushed from wounds.


    He rolled over and climbed his way back to his feet. Despite the wound, Beam was smiling. He could feel it now. A path that he could walk to seize victory. The attack that the Titan had so narrowly defended ¨C next time, he would make itnd.


    The Titan seemed to be able to feel it too, for it was still rooted to the spot, paused midmotion, as it struggled to process what had just happened. So suddenly, where there was nopetition, no resistance, there''d sprung up a fierce struggle.


    Beam stood up, wiping blood from the corner of his mouth, a smile on his lips. Better than anyone alive, he knew what it meant to struggle. He was not about to turn away from a fight ¨C especially when there were not such delightful rewards on offer.


    He could finally feel it ¨C the same potential that Dominus seemed to see in him. Ever since that fight with the evolved hobgoblin, he had seen his progressing faster,ing easier, and he had assumed that was the limit of his achievement. He''d been more than content with that. After all, in the past, he had no progress to his name.


    And now, he was finally tasting it. The world of talent that had been denied to him when Ingolsol cursed him all those years ago. His true talent, whichy beyond struggle, that Dominus had imed even rivalled Arthur''s. n/?/vel/b//in dot c//om


    But Beam was not Arthur. He could sense that in himself now. Though he had no part in it, his soul was eternally ced in a precarious bnce, forcing him to endure constant resistance. The interference of the Gods held him back. Ingolsol through his maliciousness, and then udia afterwards, in her attempt atpassion.


    Now Beam could feel a use for both of them. Though dangerous, he dared to ask them for their assistance. udia for the strength of a hero, and Ingolsol for the might of the devil.


    They said nothing, and yet, all at once, Beam''s aura swelled, as two opposites that had warred for all eternity were forced into a union, under Beam''s rule.


    Beam felt his skin tingle. The pain on his back slowly faded away, though the wound still continued to pour with blood. He held his hand up in front of him. Slowly but surely the shaking began to die down.


    There was power to be had, his body now realized. With the stars above him, and the temporary union inside of him, he was in a zone of perfect potential. Tonight, he was offered a seat at the banquet of progress ¨C and he was determined to eat all that he could.


    This time, it was Beam that took the step towards the Titan, as it eyed him from a distance away. With that step, the Titan trembled a moment, before it moved to meet him, the dismay obvious on its face. After all ¨C it was born to be a cmity. It was its destiny to rule. It was a physical phenomenon of the highest order.


    For something to resist it, to fight back, it wasn''t just a surprise, it was downright unnatural.


    But its soul merely imed its opposition to be a fool, and its confidence returned. No, in fact, it surged. His limbs were animated in a vicious excitement, as its muscles bunched up beneath it, and it shot forward, even faster than before.


    It swung its ws, using their extra range, rather than the brutish force of its fist as it had before.


    Beam caught the ws on his sword and brushed them off to the side. Just in that brief moment of contact, he could already feel his knees begin to buckle from the force. It was more than clear to him that it would be reckless to attempt to take the hit on.


    But even merely brushing the blow aside was beyond the Titan''s expectations. It had swung its ws with the full intent to kill. He was sure the tiny creature in front of it would dodge, just as it had for the rest of the fight. And yet, Beam didn''t even take a step back.


    The Titan swung its ws again, this time in abination. It leaned its weight on its hind legs, before swinging down with the left and the right and then the left again, its movements but a blur in the air.

 Chapter 193 The Shadows - Part 18

    193 The Shadows - Part 18


    Again, Beam brushed the first strike aside. But his strength was not sufficient enough to do so without wasting precious movement. For the other strikes that came his way, he was forced to dodge ¨C and yet, the creature was still faster than it, and so these dodges cost him position, putting him more and more off bnce, until the final strike came and he was forced to take it head-on.


    He raised his sword to block it, just in time. The ws raked against his steel, and the force sent him flying backwards.


    This time, though, Beam did not lose his footing. He brought himself to a skidding halt, using his sword on the ground to help keep his bnce.


    He forced a smile. Even in his hyper-aware state, he could just barely keep up with it. But tond a counterattack, he needed something more, something stronger. He needed to get stronger.


    Of course, just when he was teetering on the bnce, just when he was about to break through, more enemies approached. Of course they would. Such was the nature of Beam''s fate. The Gods pushed him evermore towards struggle.


    Just as it had for the entire night, the scent of monster flesh attracted more beasts into the fray. n/o/vel/b//in dot c//om


    Goblins.


    They entered cautiously, perhaps sensing the two battling auras of superior creatures. The eyes of the Titan flickered towards them for a moment, before flickering away, apparently uninterested. It returned its gaze to Beam.


    The goblins noticed Beam as well, but seeing that he was locked in battle with another monster, they seemed to think themselves safe. One of them cast aside its spear and left the party that was otherwise grouped together. It ran towards the nearest chunk of meat and gripped it in its hand.


    A vicious smile crossed Beam''s face, as the anger boiled up in him once more. Daring to turn his back on the Titan ¨C surprising even it ¨C he faced the goblins, darkness pouring out of him.


    With his aura being so intensified, even the food-motivated goblin with meat in its hand froze. Six lesser goblins, all together, were held in ce merely by gaze alone.


    "Obey," Beam demanded, the darkness pouring out of him like a pointed spear. The goblin stiffened for a second, as though something had stabbed it through the side. But then it dropped its meat, and it straightened up, an obedient look in his eye.


    Beam cast his gaze to the other goblins, his order still hanging in the air. They stiffened up too, as their souls were overrun by his will. Just as Beam had noted earlier, the goblins had such weakness in their souls, which was evidenced by their erratess.


    As Beam''s heart cried out for him to subjugate the Titan that stood against him, it was overwhelmed by contempt when faced with goblins.


    Power welled up in Beam as he saw the goblins obey hismand. He pointed with a finger, and the goblins moved as a group to the spot he was pointing at. A smile yed on his lips. udia was lending might to his sword, as he sought progress in his strength. But Ingolsol, he wanted to dominate. Beam could feel the Dark God''s delight as he overwhelmed the lesser goblin''s wills, and bound them to his own.


    Both Gods had been appeased. Beam''s aura soared further, until it nearly matched the Titan''s own.


    He returned its gaze to it, with goblins at his back. He did not know how long hismand over them wouldst. He had yed around with his power for a while now, and he still did not understand much about its conditions for activating or remaining, other than the fact that fear was often involved.


    Faced with such a hardened look, the Titan trembled. Beam saw the weakness in it even more than before. Yet it was not so weak as the goblins, that he could overwhelm its soul with a mere look. He needed to do a little more than that. He needed to demonstrate the difference between them.


    He prepared his sword once more, ready to charge in himself. But before he did that, he gave an order.


    "Attack," he said coldly, knowing full well that the goblins would not evenst half a second against such a beast. But he did not need them tost. He nearly needed them to create an opportunity.


    The goblins began to run at hismand, their spears in their hands. It felt odd seeing goblins run so quietly, so robotically. They usually screamed at the top of their lungs in madness.


    The Titan watched them charging forward, apparently feeling the wrongness in the air. Beam could see in its eyes just how unsettled it was. Animals ¨C and by extension monsters ¨C were able to tell the difference between themselves and an opponent merely on instinct.


    Never would a goblin dare to confront a Konbreaker, even as a party. And this here was a creature that eclipsed Konbreakers to such a degree that it was almost unfair. Yet, the goblins charged anyway.


    It no doubt inspired some thread of unease in the Titan''s mind. It likely nted a seed that made it doubt its own strength. Monsters only knew their strength byparison, after all. If a whole party of goblins deemed it to be a target weak enough to hunt, then maybe it was.


    The goblins moved far too slowly for Beam''s liking, but they closed the distance between themselves and the enemy all the same. They spread out in a fan, moving to attack the Titan from all different angles, their spears held low, their movements more reminiscent of that of a horned goblin, now that they werepletely subjugated to Beam''s will.


    The Titan was still stood frozen in ce as it watched them approach, as though its sense of identity was crashing down inside of it, and its already weakened soul grew weaker. It was fighting the idea of whether to flee or whether to attack ¨C it didn''t know anymore. Just how strong was it?


    The goblin spears neared it. It made a decision. It swung out with those dagger-ws that it had¡­ and in an instant, it killed three of them.


    It was such an underwhelming disy, that it even unsettled the creature itself. It took a moment to process just what had happened. These measly creatures that he had even begun to fear, they offered so little resistance; it was like punching a hole through a paper wall.

 Chapter 194 The Shadows - Part 19

    194 The Shadows - Part 19


    It bellowed in dismay, realizing that it had been foolish, realizing that its doubt was all for nought. It was merely that its opponents were fools who could not tell his true strength. It opened its beak and let out a great roar, before turning to face the rest of the goblins.


    Just before its strikended, Beam''s control over the goblins faded, and they gave a shriek of rm, as they turned and attempted to run away. But it was far toote for that. The Titan came after them. With two swift strikes, it ensured their death.


    Blood flew into the air as the Titan''s ws tore the goblins in half. It howled in delight. Even after it had killed them, it ran to follow up on the corpses, so that it might grind them to a halt, but a terrible feeling of dread stopped it midstride.


    It looked up over its shoulder, back into the air, its heart pounding. After just regaining its confidence, something overwhelming was forcing it back into the depths of fear. Up, under the starlight, he caught the shadow of a boy, his sword raised.


    He''d forgotten. In his obsession over the goblins, he''d forgotten where the true threaty. He''d forgotten that this measly creature was able to survive some of its attacks. How could it have forgotten? To miss what was important, to allow itself to be roused by the weak, to be unsettled so greatly.


    Yet something was off. The boy it was fighting earlier, he wasn''t thisrge, was he? What was this darkness that cloaked him, that gave him mass? What was that burning looking in his eyes, as golden flecks danced around, demanding that he yield?


    What now gave him such a powerful force? Why did the Titan feel the sudden urge to kneel? Why did fear run through it so strongly, against an opponent that he had already injured, that he had already dominated?


    The strike came down from above. The Titan thought it saw a golden light catch the de. A golden light that conflicted with that shadow of darkness that hung about him. The Titan was overwhelmed by fear, and then with beauty. Its heart was moved, and then destroyed.


    Despite its strength, Beam broke its soul.


    Before his strike evennded, the creature was torn apart. The desperate binding force that had attempted to hold the souls of several different monsters together ¨C it was shattered. Now there were merely several individuals in the same body, all of them afraid, all of them fighting each other, all of them creating weakness.


    They sought the mercy of death, for they could no longer deal with such pressure. It was only natural, after all.


    Weakly, it raised its arm to defend itself, its movements half-hearted, as strength already began to leave its body.


    Beam''s blow came down. The sword that had previously bounced off the thick hide of the Titan now slid straight through it, as though it had suddenly increased in sharpness.


    It bit straight through the forearm and neared the bone. And then once it reached bone, it tore through that too, hardly slowing down at all.


    The sword finished with the arm and then went onto the head. The strike wasn''t aligned well enough to decapitate, but it was able to tear straight through the throat all the same. In an arc of spurting green blood, Beam finished his strike, andnded in a roll.


    The Titan stood for a few moments longer, distraught, watching the blood pour from its throat with a grim fascination. Confusion was thest emotion in its eyes, as Beam climbed to his feet to meet its gaze.


    Even as it died, it couldn''t understand why it had lost. All it knew was that it was afraid, so terribly afraid. n/?/vel/b//jn dot c//om


    Noting that emotion, Beam''s eyes softened for just a moment. He that walked such a tightrope, who was forced to struggle so immensely, he understood that feeling better than anyone. Such was one of the many foundations of his strength.


    As the Titan copsed in a heap in the centre of the clearing, the world grew suddenly quiet. There was a stillness in the cold night''s air, despite the carnage that decorated the clearing, with all the strewn-about scraps of charred meat, and the corpses of the goblins, the firewood, and then the central piece of the giant Titan corpse.


    Exhaustion overwhelmed Beam, as the strength began to leave his body. He would have copsed there and then, if he hadn''t known what a terrible danger these monster corpses posed.


    Though, at least now he knew there was something of a limit. That if several monsters were bound together through a crystal, it would create a beast of nightmarish proportions, but that would have an equally unstable soul to match.


    What he didn''t know was the effect the crystals had on the binding strength of that soul. It was highly likely that they had something stronger, that was capable of supporting an even more nightmarish creature. After all, they had used crystals of different colours on the rabbit and on the goblin.


    With such new information in mind, despite the absolutely crushing level of exhaustion that Beam now felt, he was forced to once more rebuild his fire.


    He gathered more wood from the forest ¨C which was growing increasingly harder to find nearer the clearing, especially without his axe to tend to any of the thicker pieces ¨C and built up a raging bonfire in that gap in the cliff, making it evenrger than before.


    Despite howrge he made it, it would have been impossible to get the Titan corpse on there. Just as it would have been equally difficult to move the Titan corpse in the first ce. The end result of such a predicament was a good deal of grizzly work, as Beam was forced to cut the Titan down into more manageable bits with his sword.


    His clothes, that were already a mess, now became dyed almost exclusively with green blood.


    Little by little, hepleted his task. The only thing managing to keep up with his exhaustion was a growing sense of satisfaction, as he cleaned up the clearing, little by little. He dealt with the smaller pieces of flesh first, leaving the Titan untilst, since at least that was in one piece, making it easier to defend should more monsterse.


    Need name suggestions for the Vice-Captain of the soldiers!! He''s gonna be a stocky bearded guy with a loud mouth. Any ideas???


    Nick_Alderson


    Creator''s Thought

 Chapter 195: Counter Measures - Part 1

    Even with that wariness about him, no more monsters came for the rest of the night, which offered Beam some level of relief, knowing that there was at least some kind of limit on their numbers.


    Just before the light of dawn breached the horizon, thest of the meat burned away to bone inside Beam''s raging fire.


    With that, he began to dampen the mes, in preparation for leaving. He removed some of the logs that he could from the fire, dispersing the heat little by little, until finally, he could smother the rest of it beneath a pile of rocks, which happened to be in abundant supply.


    And then, using thest of his energy, he quickly washed himself in the mountain stream, and then went home to change his clothes.


    "Mm?" Beam awoke with a start. His dreams had been violent ones, in-keeping with the day that he''d had. In them, he''d been fighting the Titan again, only this time the ground was so muddy that he couldn''t move his feet. With every step that he took, his body sank deeper and deeper, until that muddy ground gave way to quicksand, and he was trapped up to his neck as the Titan loomed over him.


    He wasn''t sure when he''d fallen asleep. Nor was he even sure what day he was. He could feel a sheen of cold sweat on his skin from his dreams, but also there was a heat in the room. A heat that he would normally not feel until summer.


    He nced up in rm. The light underside of a thatched roof, with wooden beams ced like a to support it.


    Then he nced to the side, and noticed a roaring fire. The fire brought back images of the night before, of all the monsters he had to burn. In his sleepy state, he struggled to regain his bearings. He stumbled out of bed in a panic. His hand went to his sword. What time was it?


    He must have fallen asleep whilst guarding the pile of monsters. The whole thing with a Titan must have been a dream. He had to get up, he had to fight.


    His shoulder hit the ground hard as he tumbled from the low bed, but he quickly righted himself and scrambled up to his feet, his hand still searching for a sword that wasn''t there.


    "Ah, you''re up," Mrs Felder said, a gentle smile on her face, as she tended to a pot on the fire.


    "Mrs Felder?" Beam said, his confusion only mounting. Was he still dreaming?


    "Mhm. Good morning. It''s not even midday yet. We were nning to let you sleep much longer," she said.


    Still disoriented, and still highly confused, Beam frowned, looking around the hut. Sure enough, it was the same hut that he remembered. But he had no clue how he got here. "Why am I¡­?"


    "You tell me, sweetie," Mrs Felder said, gently shrugging. "You''ve been pushing yourself, haven''t you? When was thest time you slept? N found you just before dawn, copsed on the road between our house and the forest. She''d said you''d gone in there yesterday, is that right?"


    "I copsed?" Beam repeated with a frown. Sure, he was tired, he''d known that ¨C but he was nning on getting a couple of hours of sleep anyway. He wasn''t sure that he''d really pushed himself to the point of copsing.


    "When was thest time you ate?" She asked, stirring her pot.


    Beam''s stomach answered for him with a growl. He grimaced. He couldn''t remember when he''dst eaten. All he knew was that it wasn''t yesterday.


    "Come, sit," she said, gesturing towards a stool next to the fire. "You''ve hardly slept, and your body is battered. It''s still only early in the day yet ¨C collect yourself before you go rushing around like N."


    "It''s midday, you say?" Beam asked, begrudgingly sitting on the stool near the fire, as he tried to puzzle through just how much time he had left in the day.


    "Not quite yet, but we''re nearly there. But don''t you worry about that. You need to keep yourself strong. You''re taking on a lot, aren''t you? N told me what you''ve been up to," Mrs Felder said.


    "Mm¡­ There isn''t a lot of time though. There''s a lot I have to tell everyone," Beam murmured, half to himself, as he tried to recall the events of the previous night. The encounter with the shadow people. Their blood on his hands. Their spawning of the monsters and their crystals. The Titan''s overwhelming bloodlust.


    "Eat first," Mrs Felder said, handing up a bowl of stew and a wooden spoon.


    Beam''s mouth was watering even as his mind raced. His body moved on its own for the first mouthful. It was so hot that it burned his tongue, but he still couldn''t stop shovelling it in. Once he was past that first mouthful, the control was lost, and he shovelled it all down like a starving dog.


    Mrs Felder giggled to herself as she watched him. "Better?" She asked with a kind smile, holding out her hand for the bowl. Beam nodded, feeling a little bit more awake after it. It was only then that he properly noticed Mrs Felder. She seemed better than she had the previous day, despite the weight of her daughter''s disappearance.


    She took his bowl off him and filled it up again. He was about to protest, but his stomach was still feeling rather empty, so he ploughed through that lot again. Only when she gave him a third bowl did she finally look satisfied, and only then did Beam start to feel something approaching full.


    "Good, you''re getting some colour back in your cheeks," Mrs Felder said warmly as she tended to him. "I''ll make you a drink. Don''t even think about rushing off before then."


    "Thank you," Beam said, awkwardly scratching the back of his head. He was more than embarrassed to have been found passed out as he was. It was a weakness he couldn''t afford to show, especially not now, when the vige was in turmoil.

 Chapter 196: Counter Measures - Part 2

    Mrs Felder seemed to see through him, for she shook her head. "You''re too hard on yourself, Beam. It''s going to wear you down. N and I both saw the marks on your back. You were still bleeding when we found you. Just what have you been fighting to end up like that?"


    He opened his mouth to apologise once again, but Mrs Felder held up her hand to stop him.


    "No no, I''m not criticising you. I will tell you to stop doing such dangerous things ¨C but I wonder if that''s more for my own heart, than yours..? I know how much you''re attempting to take on. N told me.


    You''re taking risks that a boy your age shouldn''t have to take, and you''re attempting to protect the vige on top of that, and find Stephanie too¡­ It''s really too much for a boy your age," she said, a mournful expression on her face.


    "But despite that, I won''t ask you to stop. Because the vige needs you. It needs someone on its side, someone strong, someone that can bind them together. I never would have known it, I never would have thought it. But this morning, the crowd that gathered looking for you¡­ It was a sight to see, you know?"


    "There was that scary-looking Judas, with his even scarier-looking friends. Then, N had those two men working for her. There were even children there. There were nearly twenty different vigers, all of them different from thest. The type of people that you''d never usually see together," Mrs Felder said.


    "Really?" Even Beam was surprised to hear it. He understood Judas and N were looking for him, but for children and other vigers on top of that to be mixed in, it really made him wonder just what Judas and N had managed to achieve yesterday.


    "Really really," she said, with a girlish giggle. "Everyone is looking for someone strong, someone that can bind them together, and though it hurts my heart knowing that the burden has fallen to someone so young, I''m also d it''s you ¨C because I can understand why it would be. You''re such an earnest boy, and yet, you''re so strong. I trust you, Beam.


    Not just for my own sake ¨C for I really do think you''ll help me find Stephanie ¨C but for everyone else''s."


    "For that reason, you''ve got to take care of yourself. You can''t abuse yourself like you have before. You''ve got to be careful. For a lot of people, you''ve be too important to lose."


    Beam listened quietly, his eyes wide in surprise. He''d never stopped to think about the effect he was having on other people, but there was something about the passion in Mrs Felder''s voice that hit his heart. It was the strength that his master was talking about, the strength of responsibility, to be at the centre of many things.


    He''d heard stories of Arthur being the centre point of an entire country, and before he knew it, he''d ended up in a simr position himself, though not by choice. He''d merely worked to carry out the mission that his master had given him.


    "I see¡­" Beam murmured. "I''ll do my best."


    Mrs Felder''s smile widened, as she reached out to pat his head. "Good boy. That''s all I can ask. I''ll do my best too. There are things that even I can do, believe it or not."


    "I definitely believe it," Beam said.


    She giggled at the immediacy of his reply. "I was thinking what I could do¡­ And I saw that you sent Judas and his friends to the soldiers'' camp. I thought that I might go along too."


    "Mrs Felder, doing that sort of manualbour isn''t really a good¡ª"


    "No no, I meant something more that I''m good at. I know the soldiers have been pretty cruel to the vigers at times, but we''re still allies in this, at least for now. I heard they''re struggling with injuries. I thought I might go along and help tend to them, if only to help mend the bridges between the townsfolk and the soldiers," she said.


    Beam raised his eyebrows. "Are you sure..? They''ve been pretty harsh, especially with women. Are you sure you''ll be alright on your own? Well, I guess I can get Judas to keep an eye out for you¡­ But still, it''s hard to stand against the soldiers, especially in their own camp."


    "My¡­ You almost worry as much as me. N said much the same when I told her about it. But don''t worry ¨C I''m stronger than I look. I''ll be fine," she said.


    "What about David?" Beam asked.


    "David is already helping himself. You helped him ovee his fear, and now he''s helping N. That''s how she managed to talk with the other children, and ask them what they knew," she said.


    That too came as a shock to Beam. It seemed that whilst he was in the forest, everyone else had been working just as hard outside. He stroked his chin in thought as he struggled to hold back a smile. "Mm¡­ I see."


    "We''re all fighting. I''m sure we''ll manage to get through this, together," Mrs Felder said, standing up and raising her fist, like a woman about to charge into battle.


    Seeing that, Beam couldn''t contain his grin. He stood up as well. "We''ll win in style," he said.


    After that, he quickly downed the tea that she''d made him, and with a quick stretch of his shoulders, he made his way outside.


    He''d expected to have to go to the marketce, figuring that everyone would be busy, but though the crowd that Mrs Felder had mentioned before had mostly dispersed, there were two very distinctive figures waiting.


    One with her bright red hair, and the other with his massive frame. It wasn''t like the two were waiting together exactly, as they were each a short distance apart, with their backs to each other. Seeing that, Beam had to grin, guessing that they''d got into an argument of sorts.


    N noticed him first ¨C since she was facing the house. Her face brightened up in an instant, and she gave a wave. Getting to her feet, she jogged up to him.

 Chapter 197: Counter Measures - Part 3

    Noticing the noise, Judas turned around too. He gave a shout ofint that N hadn''t told him, then he got up and came lumbering after her. If anyone were to see it from a distance, it was very much like he was chasing her. A true horror scene.


    "You''re up! You look so much better than you did before. You were so pale. You have to be careful like that, you know? It''s basically winter already. You''ll get hypothermia," N told him.


    "Mhm, I feel much better, thanks," Beam said.


    Mrs Felder stood behind him, with an understanding smile. "I''m going to lock up the house then, and I''ll be heading over to the soldiers'' camp, okay? N, you''re going to be looking after David, aren''t you?"


    "He''s run off with the other children at the moment, he said he''d meet back up with me in ten minutes. I''ll keep checking in on him," N promised.


    "Right," Mrs Felder nodded firmly, with a clear hint of anxiety, as though she as worried about leaving David alone ¨C even if he was with a group of other children ¨C but they must have discussed such a thing before, for she said nothing, and merely bid her farewells to both Beam, and N, and then Judas, who she was obviously intimidated by, for she gave him a shaky smile.


    But even that shaky smile was enough to make Judas. His face was dyed a clear crimson as he watched her walk away.


    "Gugh¡­ Gross. Don''t blush when my mother is speaking to you, idiot," N said in mock disgust.


    "What did you say!? And after all, the looking out for you I''ve done, you''re still a little shit? Why do I get saddled with dealing with kids?? Both of you are right pains in the arse," Judasined.


    "Yeah yeah, save theining. Don''t you have a report for me?" Beam said, cutting in.


    "And you''re the worst of it. You don''t know how to show a shred of respect, do ya? To think I was actually worried when I heard they''d found you copsed by the road. But look at you, right back at it," Judasined.


    Beam just shrugged, to which Judas gave a long sigh, beforeunching into his report. "Just monsters¡­ That''s what we got from the camp. The soldiers are in a worse state than you''d think. Maybe 20 of them have got minor injuries, and 10 of them are totally out ofmission," Judas said.


    "That bad, huh?" Beam said thoughtfully.


    "Aye. That''s why they pulled back the line. Lombard is still hunting by himself and a few men, just to keep the numbers down. But see the thing is, word is going around that he didn''t manage to find a single monster this morning. I wonder if that''s down to you, eh?" Judas asked.


    "Well, I suppose I can fill you in¡­ But is that all you''ve got to report?" Beam asked.


    "Well, naw. The defences are proceeding as nned. Some of the boys managed to get some more personal info on the soldiers, a couple of y''know ''who''s beefing who?'' kinda info. I told them I''d check with you whether you want it. Besides that, we managed to get a brief look at their supplies, and it seems like they''ll be alright for a couple of weeks. Oh, and yeah¡­ Bad news for the boss in the night.


    Another two soldiers got sliced. Their throats cut. They''re ming it on the whores again," Judas told him.


    "Again, huh?" Beam said with a grimace. "I''m guessing Greeves is in a tough spot now then¡­ As for the information, yeah, I''ll buy it. Tell them I''ll meet up with themter."


    "You don''t know the half of it. I''ve known the man for nearly ten years, and I''ve never seen him sweat so much ¨C and it''s near winter at that. He''s ordered me to stick by you for a bit, under the condition that we aim to figure out what''s going on in the camp as well, ''cos he swears it isn''t the whores," Judas told him.


    Beam nodded at that. "Yeah, that''s fine. It''s equally our problem, even though it hasn''te back to directly bite us yet. What about you N?"


    "I thought about what you said about building something, and I figured y''know, it would be better to get some of the vigers more involved, right? So I did a bit of give and take. I told them what was going on, and then asked for news in response. Some of them even wanted to help. And then I asked the children too, to see if they''d seen anything," N said.


    "Mhm. That will definitely pay off in the future. Did you manage to get much information?" Beam asked.


    "A lot of it wasining about the soldiers¡­ They''ve been worse than we thought. They''ve got violent a couple of times, and stolen things more times than we can count. But there''s also news on the Elder. He''s taken three children in, as part of debt repayments.


    And those children haven''t been seen ever since they went into that gloomy house of his, even when their parents go to visit them," N said, her face falling into a frown.


    "Mm¡­" Beam murmured thoughtfully. He''d seen the shadows in the forest. He''d seen the monsters they birthed. Did the children the Elder was taking have a role in that? Did the Elder even have a role in that? Or were they twopletely separate urrences?


    "The children say they''ve been hearing things in the night too, likeughter, and banging," N said. "I''m not sure how much of that is true, or whether they''re just frightened after hearing Stephanie go missing¡­ But you know, I managed to ask some of the parents, and most of them say they''ve heard the same thing. Only, when I ask people without children, they don''t mention anything.


    That''s pretty weird, right?"


    "It is," Beam nodded in acknowledgement. "You''ve both done well." He saw N''s shoulders sag with relief, as though the acknowledgement of her report had eased her anxiety. Judas just gave a shy shrug and grinned.


    "Of course I did. I''ve been doing stuff like this for a lot longer than you''ve been around. It''s my first time messing with soldiers, but y''know, same kettle of fish, isn''t it?" Judas said.

 Chapter 198: Counter Measures - Part 4

    "What about you?" N said, turning the subject to Beam, now that they''d both said their piece. "Howe you were passed out in the middle of the road like that? And what''s with the wounds on your back? Those were w marks, right? They were huge!"


    Judas nodded along with her. "I''m interested too. What the fuck could wound you as you are now, when you gave that evolved hobgoblin what for? You''re even stronger than you were back then, aren''t ya? I can smell it on you."


    "Ah¡­ Yeah, I suppose it was a busy night. Sorry for worrying you," Beam said. "I was nning to get some sleep once I got back into the vige, but I guess I must have just fallen asleep earlier than I was hoping to."


    "And you weren''t eating," N said. "I can tell. You''ve just been working, haven''t you? Hurry up then, what did you spend the day in the forest doing? Did you learn anything?"


    Beam proceeded to tell them about the day that he''d had. How he''d seen Dominus, how he''d found the goblins half-evolved after eating the kills that he''d had stored. And then how he''de up with the idea to set a trap, so he could lure all the monsters in the forest in one ce. Then, how they''d evolved and caught him off. How he saw the shadows, how he killed them, how they summoned a Titan.


    He said it all matter-of-factly, as though it was all quite normal, and just something that needed to be done, but as he proceeded, both the expressions on N and Judas'' faces gradually contorted more and more in surprise, until their faces could not longer contain it and they both ended up shouting out.


    "How the hell did you get mixed up in so much trouble!?" N shouted.


    "How are you still kicking after all that?" Judas said.


    Beamughed at their reactions. "Yeah, I have to say, the monster lure was ying with fire a bit. But as a result, we learned something about why they''re spawning so often."


    "Those shadows and their crystals, right?" Judas said. "That your first time killing a man? You said they faded away to ash, aye? The fuck''s that about?"


    "Mhm... I only killed one of them though, the other one seemed to get eaten by some kind of poison when I tried questioning her," Beam said.


    N looked at him carefully. "Are you really okay..?" She asked cautiously, figuring that the act of taking a life would definitely be weighing on his mind.


    He shrugged. "I mean, I''d rather it didn''t happen. But these guys were clearly the enemy. They were raising up monsters. I said I''d protect the vige, and I don''t n to take half-measures."


    Again, his resolute words stunned them. They could hardly fathom how he remained so sturdy, despite being forced to endure things that could well and easily break a normal man, or at least cripple him for a while.


    But with such a base of suffering, of trauma, adapting to new conflict did not require that much energy for Beam. It didn''t require him to change who he was, for he''d already had to build himself up to such a state that he could survive his circumstances.


    "I mean, you''re right, but¡­ I don''t know, I thought you would be the type that would y''know¡­ say that life is sacred and that, even if it''s the enemy," Judas said.


    With a raised eyebrow, Beam looked at him. "You''ve got a pretty distorted image of me. I''m not some saint. I''m not even a particrly good person. I''m just doing what I want to, and I''m doing what I have to in order to keep doing what I want to."


    It was an usually simple way of dismissing such aplicated situation, and both of them were eyeing him carefully, trying to find any cracks beneath his expression. But they were unable to find any. Beam couldn''t afford any ¨C if he did not maintain a sufficient enough bnce in his own mind, then he wouldn''t be able to maintain control of the leash of Ingolsol and udia, and he would crumble.


    "These monsters you fought¡­" N began, changing the subject. "How strong are they? You''ve mentioned Gorebeasts and Konbreakers and horned goblins, but I''ve never seen one of them. And this Titan too, how strong was that? Was it strong than the evolved hobgoblin you fought?"


    "A single Gorebreaker couldfortably deal with a whole pack of lesser goblins. A pack of horned goblins could deal with a few Gorebreakers. And then a Konbreaker by itself could probably deal with two or three Gorebreakers¡­ A Konbreaker is probably simr in strength to a hobgoblin, maybe a bit weaker.


    And then the Titan¡­ That particr one could probably have dealt with two or three of the evolved hobgoblins that I fought before," Beam said, as he considered it.


    "Seriously..?" N said, nching, as she held her head in her hands. "Y''know, being your friend, it might be the most worrying thing in the world. I mean, how can anyone rest easy when they know in a single day you''ve gone and encountered just¡­ just all these insane monsters. How are you even still kicking, Beam?


    Those w marks on your back had me worried, but just how strong have you gotten that you can go through all that ande out alive?"


    "I''m of the same opinion,d," Judas said with a shudder. "At first, y''know, seeing you y goblins, getting all cut up and that, I thought it was cute. I respected the struggle. Now¡­ How much time has passed? A month? How the hell have you gotten so strong so quickly?


    It''s frankly kinda¡­ unsettling."


    Seeing Beam raise an eyebrow, Judas hurried to correct himself.


    "I mean in a good way, of course, even if you''re freaking me out a bit. But Gods, I just saw you take on the most monstrous of monsters a little while ago, and now you''re telling me you''ve surpassed even that?" Judas said.


    "Well, as I said earlier, there are limits to these crystals that they were using. Though it might have been physically as strong as two or three evolved hobgoblins, its mind was unstable, and so I was able to exploit that to win," Beam said.


    Judas and N shared a nce, shaking their heads. "I don''t think you get it Beam¡­ Well, whatever the case, I''m d you''re on our side. Though I can''t help but think you won''t be staying in this vige for long. With strength like yours, it''s only a matter of time before someone sees it, and offers you something better."

 Chapter 199: Counter Measures - Part 5

    At thatment in particr, N jerked her head, as though she had just realized something. "That''s true¡­ huh. I guess so. There''s no way you''d stay in Solgrim for the rest of your life, right?" She clenched her fist as she murmured that to herself.


    "I don''t know what''s going to happen in the future," Beam said, neither confirming nor denying it. "But now that we''re up to date, we should get started for the day."


    "Righto," Judas said. "What do you have in mind? I sent the boys to the soldiers'' camp again this morning."


    "And I''ve sent Rodrick and Rodrey to gather information, as well as to keep an eye on the children," N told him. "You''re not going to go into the forest again, are you? I understand there''s a buildup of monsters, but you really need a break. You just copsed this morning, after all."


    "Alright, well, I guess we can continue off where we were yesterday," Beam said. "I think we should continue building on what N started yesterday. There are a lot more people in this vige. If we can get them to trust us, we''d learn more, and we''d learn stuff faster.


    If, instead of us having to find them and ask questions, they instead knew to report it to us, it would make our work a lot easier."


    "It would," Judas agreed. "But how are ya gonna do that? You''re like me, ain''t ya? Well, maybe not quite as bad. Everyone''s scared of me, ''cos I''m always shaking them up to pay back the money they owe the boss, but I guess with you, they just don''t really know you. Still, you''re always with me n'' Greeves, so they''ll probably see you as trouble as well."


    "I want to know what you n too," N said. "It was a struggle yesterday getting anyone to talk to us. Everyone''s closed off and afraid with the threat of the Yarmdon attack. I guess they''re just thinking that it''s better if everyone protects themselves."


    "The Elder is meant to be ying the role of bringing people together," Beam mused. "So are the vige higher-ups. The olddy at the bakery would probably help if we put some work in¡­ and then some of the wealthier merchants and hunters with influence¡­ But as we are now, we don''t really have a hope of unifying the vige. We''ve just got to help individuals."


    "Help them with what?" N asked.


    Beam smiled. "Well, there''s a problem right now that everyone is starting to hate equally, despite them being on our side ¨C the soldiers."


    "I have a bad feeling about this¡­" N said with a gulp. "What do you n to do?"


    "Yeah¡­ I''m on the side of thess. I don''t want to be picking a fight with no soldiers," Judas said cautiously.


    "Naw, we won''t be picking a fight. We have to keep them on our side after all, we just intimidate them a bit, get them to settle down. We''ll do a bit of peacekeeping," Beam said, his smile growing as he started to warm more to his own idea.


    "I never thought I''d see you volunteer for some peacekeeping," Judas murmured. "To be honest, I never thought I''d see you do anything other than hunting monsters, but here we are, I guess."


    "It''ll be fine," Beam said with a grin. "Let''s be off then. It''s midday, I''m sure the soldiers are causing trouble already."


    He started forward towards the vige centre with a confident stride, leaving the two of them behind.


    "Hey! Wait up! Are you wanting us toe with you?" N asked.


    "If you don''t have any other immediate ns, then yeah," Beam said in reply. "I think the vigers will trust you more than they trust me and Judas. And the soldiers will probably be more intimidated by Judas than any of us."


    "You''re serious about this?" Judas asked, rushing to catch up with them. "I''ve got nothing but bad feelings about it."


    "I''m sure it''ll be fine," Beam said with a wave of his hand.


    "I just realized but¡­ you''re literally looking for trouble," Judas said, a frown on his face as he scratched his cheek.


    "Mm. And from what you''ve been telling me, it shouldn''t be too hard to find," Beam said. "What were the vigers even looking for me for, by the way?"


    "Ah, I managed to get them sent away¡­ But I was telling people if they were worried that they might be in danger, that they shoulde to you," N said. "Was that the wrong thing to do?"


    "Not at all¡­ I''m just surprised anyone actually listened to it. You must have been pretty convincing," Beam said.


    "I think you''re underestimating yourself, Beam," N said. "You''re a topic of discussion now, since you''ve been at the centre of the stage more than once, standing beside Greeves. People are wondering what you''re like. Plenty of people are wary of you ¨C but the others seem to think you''re a kind person," N said.


    "Kind?" Beam repeated.


    "Mhm. Because of what you did for people ¨C helping them prepare for winter. And then there are a couple of other stories mixed in there, about how you''re hunting monsters for the good of the vige. But not a lot of people seem to think that part is true."


    "Ah, so they finally caught on, did they?" Beam mused.


    With light chatter between them, the unusual trio soon arrived in the centre of the market square. With winter being so close ¨C in fact, the solstice was due to be celebrated on the evening of the following day ¨C the marketce was as busy as ever, and it would continue to be, all the way up until the first snow fell.


    Even from a distance, Beam could see the shining armour of a few soldiers catching the dim daylight afforded by the grey sky. There was a harsh atmosphere in the air, as though everyone was feeling the strain.


    Beam could see it on the face of the people bartering ¨C there was an urgency there, as though they were feeling the pressure of an uncertain future. They haggled hurriedly, eager to get back home with their goods. And even whilst they were doing so, they would look over their shoulders as though afraid of what might being from behind.

 Chapter 200: Counter Measures - Part 6

    The merchants were no better. They looked as worn down as Beam had seen Greeves, fighting with the constant threat of soldiers trying to work them over for better prices.


    The vigers kept a clear distance from the soldiers. The soldiers, for their part, tended to group together. Though there were only a handful in the square ¨C since Lombard couldn''t afford to put too many on break at the same time ¨C they usually stook together in groups of threes. Though there were still some that were confident enough to stay by themselves.


    One such stood right in front of them, leaning out of over the wooden counter of a butcher''s stall, a brazen look on his face as he shed a slimy smile and attempted to wheedle all he could out of the butcher.


    "C''mon, what''s the harm? Just let me put it on the tab. Or better yet, we can consider it a gift, just between you and me," the soldier said.


    "But you still haven''t paid for the other things on your tab," the butcher murmured weakly, clearly afraid to put up too much resistance.


    "What? Are you saying that you don''t trust me? That I wonder you pay you back?" The soldier said, his voice dropping into a threat.


    "No, I wouldn''t say that, but not having the money on hand for stock puts me in a difficult spot, what with winter being so close," the butcher said, in a voice that was barely above a murmur. It was a pretty pitiful sight.


    The butcher was a reasonablyrge man, with thick arms extending out of his rolled-up sleeves, even on a day as cold as it was, where one could see their breath misting up in front of them. There was a cleaver hammered into the wood threateningly, and blood stained his hands from the meat that he had been processing. Normally the man would make for quite an intimidating sight.


    The soldier, inparison, was small, and had a wiry look about him, only matched by the impetuous look that covered his face.


    "Ah, I suppose if it''s that much trouble for you, we''ll just consider it a gift then," the soldier, shing the butcher a wide smile.


    Beam could see the butcher''s soldiers shift in a giant sigh, but he moved to get meat from the pile anyway, apparently ustomed to being bullied into submission by the soldiers at this point. Beam shared a look with Judas and N.


    N in particr was looking rather cross.


    "You know him?" Beam asked in a quiet voice.


    "Yeah¡­ He''s been kind to me," she said through gritted teeth, barely holding back her anger.


    With her bow slung over her shoulder, and a quiver of arrows at her back ¨C despite not needing them for hunting ¨C she could have readily dealt with him.


    In that sense, the trio ¨C armed as they were, with Judas and his thick baton at his waist, and Beam his sword and N her bow ¨C made for an even more intimidating sight.


    They watched from a short distance away, with their arms folded, clearly radiating unpleasantness as they watched the proceedings. The severity of their discontent was enough to alert the people around them, and more than one viger spared them a curious nce as they passed by, as though they wondered what was going on.


    The soldier''s back was to them, as he continued to lean against the countertop, that false smile stered on his face, waiting for his meat to get cut. He still hadn''t noticed them. It was the butcher who nced at them first.


    His cleaver paused midswing, as he narrowed his eyes, trying to process the odd grouping. There was the girl with the fiery red hair that he was ustomed to dealing with ¨C that he even had a soft spot for.


    Then beside her, was a man that he knew better than any to treat with caution ¨C Judas. He was already frowning at that pairing. What was a good-hearted little cub like N doing with such a violent man? And then there was thest member of their group, an unimpressive-looking boy, at least in stature.


    But there were those scars on his cheeks, and that look about his eyes, and the sword at his hip. Somehow, impossibly, in that dangerous little group, filled with what he knew to be two fiery personalities, both of them were looking towards this boy for direction.


    He''d heard rumours about him. A mix between good and bad, but he''d never interacted with him personally ¨C and now here he was, the same boy, ring at him, as though about to cut him down.


    After a moment''s pause, however, the butcher soon realized it was not him they were ring at. His eyes followed their gaze to the soldier, perchednguidly with his elbows on the countertop. They were eyeing him like tigers eyeing a calf.


    The butcher felt a sudden shiver. He nced tentatively at the soldier in front of him. The man still hadn''t realized, it seemed.


    The man''s heart was pounding as he looked between his meat, and the intimidating trio a short distance away. Whatever was about to happen, he wanted no part in it.


    The boy moved first, with such confidence that it even took the butcher aback, especially when he saw who he was approaching. It wasn''t like the boy''s movements were exaggerated or anything of that sort, or that there was a swagger in his step. Indeed, the way he stepped was perfectly bnced, as though he was preparing for an attack at all times.


    But there was a resoluteness to those movements, a certainty, and an unflinching expression on his face that bespoke of a man that had pulled things back from the hottest of fires.


    "Excuse me," Beam said,ying a hand on the soldier''s shoulder to spin him around. The man moved so easily that it was almost worrying.


    The soldier felt it himself. One moment he was enjoying himself, like a cat on a window-sill and the next, he was off bnce, with a pair of vicious-looking eyes staring at him.


    For a moment, the soldier didn''t have a word to say. He merely scrambled in startled shock as he struggled to take in his surroundings. Who''d dared to put hands on him? He would have assumed it to be a member of at least the serving ss, or even the nobility, what with the confidence that he did it with, but the more he looked, the more certain he was that it was merely a peasant boy.

 Chapter 201: Counter Measures - Part 7

    His lips began to curve into a violent expression, as the lid off his anger was removed, and his mind determined that it was safe for him to vent his frustrations. His hand went to his sword.


    "What the fuck do you think you''re doing?" The soldier spluttered, his shout loud enough to draw a crowd. ''Good'', he thought. ''Let them see what I do to peasants that don''t know their ce.''


    His sword came clean of the scabbard, and he levelled it towards the peasant''s throat ¨C or at least he tried to. There was a sudden sh of pain in his hand, and then a momentter, his sword on the floor.


    Startled, he reached to grab it, but the boy''s foot found its way onto the steel first.


    "Boy! Remove your dirty feet from my sword!" The soldier cried out in anguish, thoroughly disoriented at this point. All he felt was anger.


    "Oh, my apologies," Beam said, as though only just noticing. He removed his foot. The soldier reached to grasp the sword, but just before he could get his hands on it, Beam''s other foot came in.


    There was something of a small crowd gathering now. The butcher was sweating to an extreme degree behind the soldier, as he witnessed things escting at an unbelievable rate.


    Even Judas and N ¨C who were meant to be part of this n ¨C seemed shocked by his actions, by his tant disrespect of an authority that was above him.


    "Ah, wait," Beam said, as his foot returned. "I have to confirm, this sword is for the protection of the vige peace, is it not? If you''re stirring up conflict within Solgrim garrison whilst we are so close to war, you''d be viting Captain Lombard''s clear orders. Even if you are my social superior, I cannot disobey the orders of nobility. Do forgive me."


    The soldier was stunned. He had been in more than his fair share of peasant viges, and he''d made sure to wield his authority to the maximum in each of them. But never before had anyone stood up to him.


    What was this? He froze, mid-crouch, his arm extending from his sword. He felt like a deer frozen in ce by the gaze of a hungry predator. He could feel a heaviness in the air that made it difficult to breathe.


    ''This man is dangerous'' his body seemed to scream. But no matter how dangerous a peasant usually was, it did not matter, for they could not defy the natural social order of this world. To do so would mean spitting in the face of their superiors, and gathering a legion of support against them.


    Yet, this boy had framed it in such a way that he ¨C of the higher ss as he was ¨C would be going against nobility and disobeying orders merely by defending himself. It was such a farce, and an obvious what at that. Yet against such a threat, both physical and social, the soldier froze up.


    He was not used to confrontation, especially not of this sort, and especially not from someone who was so far beneath him socially.


    He spluttered, attempting to form a counterargument. But now the gazes of the crowd that he''d been so pleased about before worked against him, pinning him in ce. He could see the tant hostility in their eyes. For the first time, that hostility hurt him. Without the shield of his superior ss to hide behind, their aggression dug in deep, leaving him feeling naked despite his armour.


    And now, seemingly out of nowhere, there was a giant standing in front of him, apparently an ally of the boy. He towered over the soldier, the physical difference between the two of them immense. There was an aggressive look in his eyes as well, as he merely folded his arms and stared down at him.


    The soldier nced between his two aggressors, then back down to his sword that was pinned to the floor, it didn''t seem like he''d be reaching it any time soon.


    But then, after being beaten down so thoroughly, it was as though an angel had descended. An adorable girl, of small stature, with bright red hair, and a kind face. She knelt down so that he did not have to and retrieved his sword.


    "Your sword, mister," she said, with a smile and a bow of her head.


    Relieved, the soldier reached out to grab it.


    But it turned out, she was the devil as well. Just before his fingers could wrap around its hilt, she drew it back slightly.


    "Of course, that''s with the understanding that it''s wrong to bother the butcher, right? I''m sure you were only joking. Of course, a noble soldier such as yourself would not abuse their power merely for fun, not whilst the Captain made it clear he didn''t want to hear about any discord. Unless you have reasons to undermine our defence?" N said, shing a devilish smile.


    Beam fought to hide his own smile. It was sweetly done, but it was essentially the same tactic that Beam had used ¨C likening the man''s actions to treachery, as they made him exin the reason behind the unnecessary friction he was creating.


    "¡­Only joking?" The soldier said weakly, ncing behind him for support from the butcher. But the butcher merely turned away. Out of a soldier and that fearsome trio behind him, he found that pissing off the soldier would likely be the lesser of the two evils.


    Defeated, the soldier could only acknowledge them. With his heart toyed with and his soldiers slumped, he agreed with her, and took by his sword. "¡­Indeed, I was merely joking," he murmured, sheathing his de, and hurriedly moving to leave, the gazes of the crowd feeling like spears on his back.


    There was a temptation in his heart to throw a tantrum, to cause an even bigger scene, but just as he enjoyed using his social superiority against others ¨C he feared it being used against him. Bringing up nobility, holding that over his head, suggesting that he was going against them.


    It was a fatal move, especially when the nobility treat the serving ss with the same dismissiveness that they did for peasants.


    There were more than a few instances of soldiers being cut down merely as an example.


    He meekly left with his shoulders bunched up tight, as he kept his eyes on the ground, and fled at a speed that nearly approached a jog.

 Chapter 202: Counter Measures - Part 8

    "Gods!" Judas murmured once he was well and truly gone, the hard mask on his face disappearing, as it was reced by one of intense stress. "You''re dragging me through hell here, boy. If he was any smarter, then that would have been our heads."


    "Nah. Something tells me that Lombard would be on our side in this," Beam said, his confidence seemingly unreasonable.


    "What makes you say that?" N asked, looking simrly as exhausted, although there was a note of satisfaction on her face, as they seeded in driving the soldier away.


    "The threat he''s dealing with, with the monsters, that''s a weighty boulder to shift," Beam said. "If his soldiers are causing more problems on top of that and they drag those problems up to him, he''s not going to be happy with them," Beam said.


    "Isn''t that what you''re doing though? You''re causing more problems?" Judas said. "I can''t see why he''d favour you rather than his men. He''s been letting them do as they like all this time, after all."


    "True¡­ But I think that''s more because he doesn''t see it as important. He''s only interested in aplishing his mission. As long as his soldiers carry out their duty, I think he''s content to let them do as they please. But if their actions undermine the defence and draw attention away from it, I''m sure he''ll be pissed," Beam said.


    "That does make sense¡­ But it still sounds like a gamble," Judas said. "And what''s the point in this again? Are we just picking fights for the sake of it?"


    "Naw, that''s the point," Beam said, motioning his head towards the small crowd of people that had gathered to witness what was going on. They talked animatedly amongst themselves, shooting the three of them repeated nces. "We''re making it clear we''re on their side. We''re giving the vigers something that they can stand behind."


    N had already left their conversation at this point, to go and talk to the butcher that she knew. Beam could see the man growing more rxed as they spoke, but he still couldn''t hide the sweat that clung to the underarms of his shirt. The man cautiously thanked her, whilst making it clear that he was pleased it didn''t escte further.


    With that there came theints about all the soldiers had been doing, and how it had impacted his store''s profits, and how in another few days he might have not been able to make ends meet at all.


    She kindly listened to it all, whilst offering words of reassurance. Beam and Judas watched from a distance.


    "She''s not bad¡­ not bad at all," Judas murmured, seeing her work. "I can see why you brought her along. What''s your n next?"


    "We''ll hang around here for a while, and information should starting to us. I figure the vigers will probably start talking to N, out of anyone, and maybe we''ll begin to establish something useful," Beam said.


    And they did just that. When N had finished up her conversation with the butcher ¨C who was smiling a good bit more now, as relief washed over him, and customers beganing to his stall now that the soldiers had been chased away ¨C the three of them set up in the corner of the vige square, a little ways from Greeves'' house, leaning against a set of barrels.


    Just as Beam had expected, curious vigers began toe up to N in droves. She stood just the slightest distance away from them. Enough that it was clear that she was with them, but far enough away that people didn''t feel like they were interrupting if they kept up.


    Seeing the vigerse up as they were, one thing was clear: they were excited. Only a small portion of people had witnessed what had urred, but the word spread quickly, and out of everyone, it was the merchants that cheered their actions the loudest, for it was they who had suffered most at the hands of the soldiers.


    They woulde over, and excitedly talk to N,mending her behaviour. N would politely listen, and offer them words of reassurance, and when the opportunity was appropriate, she would ask them questions, making it clear what they were looking for.


    Most people would merely shrug in answer to her questions, but a few people would tilt their heads in thought, and offer up stories of the strangeness that they''d felt in recent days.


    Noise in the night was amon urrence. Young children crying ¨C dogs growing unsettled and growing at something that wasn''t there. One man even imed he''d found the w marks of a beast on one of his barrels, iming that there was no creature he knew of that could make marks like that.


    As they talked, and they grew morefortable, they would nod towards Beam and Judas respectfully, to which the two would nod back. No words were spoken, but slowly one thing was being made clear: that these three stood for the vige.


    It was not long until another soldier began to stir up trouble. This one was chatting to a vige woman as she tried to escape with an armful of winter supplies, having spent the morning shopping.


    She was ufortably listening to what he had to say, while he cornered her in ce with an arm against the wall. She awkwardly looked around for assistance, but the other vigers could only spare her sympathetic nces, knowing not to get involved, lest they make the situation worse.


    Beam noticed it from a distance. He nced at N. She had noticed it too.


    He hopped up from the barrel that was sitting on, and moved through the crowd, very much ying the role of the guard at this point. As he walked, Judas and N came behind him, making it clear to all who watched just who was leading this party of rebellion.


    The woman noticed Beam''s approach, and did a double take. She nced ufortably off to the side, apparently expecting things to be made worse, but still looking for a way out of the awkward situation.


    The man continued to ther unaware, just as the soldier had done earlier, as he leaned against the counter.


    "Soldier. Is it not time for the end of your break?" Beam asked, as he put a strong hand on the man''s shoulder to spin him around.


    "Huh? Who are you?" The man said, squinting. He eyed the sword at his hip with suspicion. "Mm, you''re the little runt who was there at the weing ceremony, ain''t ya? What the fuck are you doingying your hands on a soldier? I''ve got every right to cut you down for that."

 Chapter 203: Counter Measures - Part 9

    "Do you? Do you have a right to deprive Lombard of his loyal servants? You do speak highly of yourself," Beam said, again shamelessly threatening him with Lombard''s name.


    The man clearly grimaced at that. Though it was a rather shallow strategy on Beam''s part, it was enough of a riposte to deal with most of the social smothering that the soldiers attempted. But the man wasn''t too happy about that.


    "Yeah, alright, and? You peasants got no manners? I''m chatting to my woman here. We''re going to get married, we are," the soldier said, threading his arm over the woman''s shoulders, as she stood there was an ufortable look on her face.


    It was N''s turn to get involved. "She''s already married, and she clearly doesn''t want you touching her," N said, forcing a smile, though it was quite clear she was furious.


    "Huh? Is that right?" The soldier nced at the woman. "Can''t say I care too much about the promises peasants have made with each other. You''d much rather be married to me, wouldn''t ya? Be a nice climb up thedder for you, wouldn''t it?"


    The woman shook her head. "I have two children that need me¡­ so¡­" she murmured quietly.


    "Children? Hah! You just leave ''em''. That''s the proper way to bring up a kid anyway, ain''t it? If it can''t survive on its own, then it doesn''t have much use. C''mon, ya gotta put yourself first.


    This is a prime opportunity," the soldier said.


    "Actually, she''s married to me," Judas said, taking a step forward with a clumsy line and a clenched fist.


    It was clearly a lie, everyone could tell that. Judas was possibly one of the worst actors in existence. But there was something about a giant towering over you that seemed to lend things credibility.


    The man gulped, but didn''t seem quite willing to back off. "Is that right? You wouldn''t want to cause a fight over this, would ya?"


    "Actually," Beam said, "we''re peasants ¨C we''re looking for any opportunity to start a fight."


    His eyes began to sparkle, as his hand went to the hilt of his sword. He leaned in close to whisper to the man, allowing a little bit of menacing to seep out. "I said all that earlier, about Lombard¡­ But truth be told, I''m itching for a fight. We peasants aren''t that good at nning ahead, you see.


    You said you could cut me down for my remarks¡­ But I wonder how well you''d manage to defend yourself until that justice you''re looking for came bearing down."


    With his voice dropped low, resorting to pure direct threats, the soldier was stunned. If he had been less afraid, he might have noticed just how odd the situation was and just how clumsy Beam and the trio''s attempts at getting him to back down were. But with the icy grip of fear wing at his heart, all he felt was terror.


    He forgot his rank for the briefest of moments. No one but he had heard what Beam had said as he leaned in close to talk to him.


    They weren''t the type of words that any peasant should ever say to a member of the serving ss, for fear that they themselves be cut down. But thatw relied on one thing in particr ¨C it relied on the member of the servingss being capable of cutting down the peasant.


    Though he''d itched for it, and he''d reached for his sword, the soldier realized on an instinctual level that the gulf between Beam''s abilities and his own were so vast, that he''d die before his sword even left his sheath.


    All it took was the tiniest leaking of Ingolsol''s dark aura to make him appreciate that.


    Finally, the man relented. He clumsily stole a nce at the woman next to him. He worked his lips to say something, but the words wouldn''te out. Fighting to keep thest of his pride, he merely turned to walk away on shaky legs.


    They watched him go until they were quite sure that he wasn''ting back.


    Once more, a crowd of people had seen what they had done, chasing yet another soldier away as they troubled one of the citizens.


    The woman broke down in tears as she thanked them, though most of her appreciation was directed towards N, since she clearly felt morefortable talking to her. But that did not stop Judas from going red when she thanked him, nor Beam from giving her a light smile as he too received his thanks.


    The boy nodded his understanding.


    So far, things were indeed going to n, though he couldn''t help but feel clumsier the more he did it. He was not as adept as he would have liked to be in situations like this. All three of them could only resort to threats of some kind in the hopes that it would scare the soldiers away. And indeed it had worked so far, but he didn''t see how they would be able to keep it up much longer.


    More of the vigers came up to them to express their appreciation once the woman had said her thanks. They stated things like ''it was about time someone finally stood up to those city-dwelling bastards'' and that ''it doesn''t matter what ss someone is in ¨C they should still be capable of some basic politeness.''


    These went to N more than anyone else. But one or two made their way to Beam and Judas ¨C some of the gruffer-looking men, perhaps seeing something in the two that they could rte to more than the girl.


    "Fine work there,d," one old man had said, as he approached Beam. "You the one kicking all this together? I heard you''ve been causing a fuss all morning."


    Beam shrugged. "I don''t mean to. Though I do think it is necessary for the vigers to have each other''s backs, now more than ever."


    The old man nodded in agreement. "That''s true, that is. Even just with winter, ya want more people in your corner than you can count. Just a slightly colder than usual blizzard, and that could start a rot that spreads through half your food. I''ve seen such bad luck, I have."

 Chapter 204: Counter Measures - Part 10

    "I suppose that''s why the Elder has his Favour system," Beam said lightly, just to test the man''s reaction.


    "Pah," he spat. "I don''t need no Favour system to tell me when to help a neighbour. We didn''t need it before he came to power, and I can tell you we won''t need it after. Besides, where''s he in all this? Not sticking his neck out for the vige, I can tell ya."


    "You were here when the Elder came to power?" Beam asked with interest.


    "Oh aye, ''course most people were. Not manye from outside to settle in like you did. He was born in this vige, he was, came back about fifteen years ago, just as thest Elder got elected. Seemed like a fine man back then. He got elected through it. But the years ''av eaten away at his mind.


    Not like he used to be, he isn''t," the old man said. "''Course, when you get to my age, most of your old friends ain''t like they used to be."


    "So you''ve noticed a change in him? How about recently? I haven''t seen much of himtely. Is that not odd?" Beam pressed, pleased to have someone so willing to give him information.


    The old man just shrugged. "He''s beenining about the cold in thest couple of years. I imagine that''s it. When there''s a chill in the air, the bones start to ache. Though, if he''s been struggling that much, I''d say the old goat needs to retire and give up the helm for someone else. No good everes out of holding onto something past its time."


    "I see," Beam said with a nod. "I''m in agreement."


    The old man smiled at that. "Pleased to hear it. Not many people are. They don''t like to hear a break in the tradition. ''Course, the same people merely cower in the background when we''re in a crisis like this, so can''t say their opinions are worth much. But youd, you''re not even from here, and you''re standing up to the soldiers like this?


    Good on ya, I say. The vige owes you much for it."


    "I thought I might inspire more resentment," Beam confessed. "Increasing the frictions between the vigers and the soldiers is a dangerous game after all."


    The old man widened his eyes in surprise at that. "Well, I''ll be damned. I thought you were just a hot-headed youth, and still, I was praising ya for it, but you have the foresight to realize that as well? And tell me, you reckoned that to be so, but you still went ahead and did it anyway? Why is that?"


    "A hope that the vige will be stronger if it''s unified, I suppose," Beam said.


    The old man was nodding away, a big smile on his face. "You''re good, you''re proper good. I like ya. Alright, you got yourself an ally," the man said, sticking out his hand for a handshake. "I''m Clyde, head of the Carpentry family ¨C not that the major families mean much anymore¡­ I suppose you can just consider us some particrly loud background noise. You''re Beam, aye?"


    Beam shook his hand and nodded. "d to have your support. I''ll be counting on your council should I make a misstep."


    The old man grinned at that. "From what I can see, you''ve been making missteps all morning! Ain''t no one willing to talk to their superiors like you are. But that''s why what you''re doing is valuable. Just watch yourself,d. Be careful to keep your bnce on that tightrope that you''re walking."


    Beamughed. He had to agree there.


    With the old man gone, and the crowd beginning to quieten with them, Judas and Beam left for their little corner of the vige square once more, leaning against the barrels. N was still busy chatting away with the other vigers that wereing up to her.


    "Not used to this," Judas grumbled. "I''m a debt collector, not no goody goody. Don''t know what to do when people are thanking me."


    "I would say get used to it, but you probably don''t have to," Beam said with a smile.


    "What was that you little shit!?" Judas said with a sniff, as he pped his hand against the barrel in a mock disy of indignation. "Oh fuck, looks like there''s more of theming in. Isn''t that the one you chased off earlier as well?"


    Sure enough, where Judas was pointing, there was a party of three soldiers, with the man who they had chased away from the butcher''s stall earlier amongst them.


    The vige centre was growing increasingly busy now, as word spread of all that had been happening there, and people sensed the building of tension in the air.


    Beam noticed it too. "I''d been nning to keep this going for a couple of days, but doesn''t seem like that going to be possible. Can''t tell if that''s a good or a bad thing, though."


    "You''re not frightened?" Judas asked. Beam could see the nervousness on the man''s face. "We knew it''d happened from the start, but you can''t really stand up to the ss above you without stirring something dangerous up."


    Beam thought for a moment, as he looked at his hand. He was no stranger to fear, of course. Just the night before, as he fought the Titan, he had wracked the entirety of his body. But here, strangely, it was hardly present. Maybe there was a dim sort of nervousness, but there was no fear. Not anymore.


    That surprised him more than anyone. He''d always hated situations like this, at least to some degree, and now he chose it as a solution to his problems. He clenched his fist, wondering when he''d begun to change.


    "Well, we''d better get going before they stir things up with the vigers," Beam said with a sigh. The soldiers were already looking through the crowd like predators, clearly searching for Beam and his party, but from the venom in their gazes, they seemed as though they''d settle for anyone.

 Chapter 205: Counter Measures - Part 11

    As if by maic repulsion, the crowd of vigers were slowly but surely moving away from the aggressive gazes of the soldiers, towards the opposite side of the square. Only a few of them were seriously engaged in sopping by now, as the tensions, and they all anticipated a dramatic conclusion.


    N found their way back over to Judas and Beam.


    "So this is it then?" She murmured, clearly ufortable.


    "Did you manage to get much information?" Beam asked.


    She nodded. "For getting information, this n worked out even better than expected¡­ But are you sure this is going to be okay?"


    "No idea. At the very least, I''ll make sure you and Judas are fine ¨C this was my idea, after all," Beam said.


    "That''s not what I was asking¡­" N murmured unhappily, but Beam was already walking out ahead of them. There was no crowd to push through now ¨C they''d all moved out of the way long ago.


    There was merely a muddy patch of square, with the two parties facing off against each other. The res of the soldiers found their way to Beam as he walked over, all of them full of venom. He did not cower beneath their res.


    Both N and Judas did their best not to flinch either, as they clenched their fists and their head beats quickened.


    The soldiers were far more confident and domineering than they would have been on their own. A single nce at their faces told them that. The man who they had chased so pitifully away earlier was now looking almost excessively sure of himself.


    Hisrades turned to him to ask a question, pointing at Beam. The man nodded.


    Beam closed the distance between them and posed a question to the man that he recognized.


    "We met earlier, did we not?" He said, as amicably as possible.


    "We did, and you interrupted the business I was in the middle of," the man said in reply.


    "We heard you''d been spewing several lies as well," another one added.


    Beam cocked his head to the side, and made a show of looking to Judas and N in mock confusion. "I don''t recall telling any lies. Perhaps you misheard. Or perhaps whoever told that to you is lying. Though I can''t think of why they would."


    He shrugged. His words made the man from earlier bristle.


    "See?" He said. "A right uppidy peasant. The level of disrespect that falls off his tongue is worthy of execution, I think. Even Lombard would agree with us ¨C we can''t risk a rebellion when our defences are already stretched so thin."


    He was already reaching to draw his sword. The other two men looked to be of the same mind. Whilst he was thin and wiry, hisrades were not. One of them was thickly set, with a couple of inches in height on hispanion, and the other was simrly mean-looking, with a moustache dancing on his lip every time his expression changed.


    Beam hadn''t done a good job of winning them over either. Not that he''d particrly intended to, but he did feel slightly regretful that he''d already managed to prove the man right.


    "I would hesitate to agree with that. Lombard is looking for men to assist in the defence, should ite to that. For you three to cut down a hail and healthy servant, I think that''s grounds for subordination, no?" Beam said.


    "Subordination? Hah, that''s a long word for a peasant," the biggest man said, drawing his sword fully clear of its sheath in a fluid and confident motion. With his steel out in the open, hisrades followed, all three of them bearing their swords and pointing it in Beam''s direction.


    The crowd watched on. A packed marketce of vigers ¨C ad a few soldiers strewn in here and there ¨C watched the confrontation with bated breath.


    "You''re truly intent on attacking, despite the consequences?" Beam said, not moving to draw his own sword. He merely stood there, his arms folded.


    "The only consequences will be your death, ingrate. Kill the boy and cut down that dough-faced giant behind them. We''ll take the girl prisoner," therger man said, takingmand.


    The thin and wiry man was only too happy to agree. There as a light of confidence in his eyes, augmented by anger and glee, as he moved to exact his revenge against Beam for his earlier slight.


    Judas moved to stand beside Beam, drawing his baton. There was a clear sheen of sweat on his forehead. "This isn''t good,d. This is fucking bollox in fact¡­"


    "Stand down," Beam told him. "If we attack some soldiers, then we really will be done for."


    "Then what''s your n?" Judas said with a frown. "The fuckers are intent on killing us. You''re not gonna defend yourself?"


    "I will if it reallyes to that," Beam said. "For now, just keep N safe behind me, we''ll watch and see what happens."


    Their conversation was done in urgent muttering. The soldiers did not hear. They only interpreted the exchange with greater confidence, sure that it was merely the fearful barkings of the dog.


    "Hah! I''m sure you''re full of regret now, ain''t ya? Shoulda just kept your mouth shut. There''s an order to things. There are kings in every jungle," the wiry man said, delighting in his newfound power, as he slowly shuffled forward with his sword extended, keeping Beam at range.


    "Not going to draw that sword at your hip, boy?" The leading soldier said, contempt on his tongue. "As I thought. You peasants do things just for show. Die nameless, then."


    With those words, the man took the first swing. There was a gasp from the crowd.


    Though life was hard, and it was not rare for people to receive all manners of grizzly injuries during their day-to-day lives, bloody violence was still not something the vigers were especially familiar with, and many of them turned away and covered their eyes, unable to watch the demise of the boy that was just too confident.

 Chapter 206: Counter Measures - Part 12

    But in a sh of movement, the sword merely disappeared past his shoulder, as though the boy was made of mist and the de had passed straight through him. The soldier was stood with his arms lowered after apleted strike, yet he felt no resistance to his de.


    It was clear to all that had watched it ¨C that Beam had dodged the blow, andfortably too, without even taking a step back.


    Of course, those who knew Beam would expect that much from him. Dominus might have even pointed holes in his movement, for it wasn''t as swift as it should have been, given his training. But to the untrained masses, it was like a magic trick. To dodge impending doom like that so calmly, and with such precision, it was a feat worthy of more praise than the Gods had to offer.


    The lead soldier''s face began to redden as he realized what had happened. Jeers came from the crowd now, as some of the vigers dared to use the opportunity to get in some of the insults that they''d been saving up a while.


    Something about a crowd of people like that gave them the confidence in their own anonymity. And especially since Beam was taking the brunt of their aggression.


    Not only that, despite the way that Beam had carried himself ¨C with a level of disrespect that was indeed worthy of attacking ¨C the vigers merely saw it as justice. As a man finally standing up for the vigers who the soldiers had walked all over for so long. They hardly saw his disrespect as disrespect, for they would have gone much further than he did, given half an opportunity.


    "Bastard," the man growled. "I suppose you''re intent on mocking us to the end, eh? No matter. When you''re choking on your own blood, you''ll see there are certain lines you shouldn''t cross."


    The raised his sword again, preparing for another strike. He then motioned with his head to the two men beside him. They immediately surrounded Beam. They were trained soldiers, after all. Group fighting tactics were second nature to them ¨C especiallytely, where It was basically a necessity that a few of them teamed up to take down a single opponent, in the form of monsters.


    "Cowards!" Came a cry from the crowd. A few more vigers picked it up, emboldened by the disy.


    "Leave the boy alone!" Another man shouted, and there came a chorus of agreement.


    The soldiers grimaced, clearly not ustomed to being hated so openly, but that didn''t change their stance in the least ¨C in fact, it only hardened their resolve. They were determined to finish this as quickly as possible.


    With a man on his left, a man on his right and a man right in front of him, Beam did feel more than a little boxed in. Dodging the strikes of a single soldier was one thing. But dodging the strikes of three soldiers at once without drawing his sword? That made the task much harder.


    The first strike flew.


    The soldiers were certainly better coordinated than the horned goblins, Beam noted. Their movements were near simultaneous. He struggled to find any gap in their defences in which to move through. Just as with his fight against the Titan, he still didn''t quite understand how one built up a proper victory, aside from through strength and speed.


    His attempts to master the flow ofbat were only providing results on the most minor of levels and he still couldn''t rely on them as a weapon by themselves.


    Still, his speed had gone up. It was by a mere hair''s breadth ¨C it had to be, for any wasted movement would get him killed ¨C but he managed to move his head out of the way of a strike that went for his neck.


    In the same instant, there was a sword thrust being levelled towards his stomach, he twisted to the side, allowing it to pass by him.


    The final strike went for his feet. Without any moremunication than a nod of the head, they''d all attacked a different part of his body, forcing him to defend himself from a true multi-level attack.


    But with a light hop, he managed to skip free of thatst strike as well. Still, the fact remained ¨C they''d forced him back. Just like energy, space was something that he was short on. He couldn''t afford to recklessly give ground, lest he lead the enemy towards where N and Judas was standing.


    "Ah¡­" he noted blood dripping from his sleeve. One of the attacks had managed to get their way through. A shallow cut, but a cut nheless. It went the length of his forearm, having cut the sleeve of his shirt.


    His blood dripped to the ground from it.


    That only increased the roars of the crowd. What had started out as a mere collection of angry shouts now spread to the entire crowd as a whole, as people were swept up in the outrage.


    "COWARDS!" Was bellowed as a group now, with force and rage behind it, and the soldiers shamelessly made enemies of those that they were meant to be protecting.


    The soldiers looked nervous now, perhaps finally sensing the mounting tension of the crowd. Evencking in true understanding of it as they were, they seemed to understand that if left as it was, there would be something closer to a full-on rebellion.


    "Shit, we need to finish this quickly," the thin man said in rm, sweat on his forehead. Fear was beginning to show on his lips as the crowd''s resentment continued to grow. He understood that if they finally snapped into madness, then it would be he and his party who would be killed first.


    No matter how well-trained or armed they were, they could do nothing against such a sea of people.


    "Withdraw," Beam told them, letting just a little bit of his true might seep into his voice. His words came with an authority that his rank should not possess, shaking their spirits.


    But they bit their lips and fought against it anyway. "Gah!" The main man said, quickly stepping in to unleash his next attack. Hisrades quickly moved to mirror him, attempting to box Beam in.

 Chapter 207: Counter Measures - Part 13

    After thest sh, Beam realized that he wouldn''tst long relying on dodging. Though he had resolved not to hit the opponents back, he figured he could at least redirect their strikes.


    As the sword came bearing down towards him, he shot out a hand and grabbed the man''s wrist, before pulling him in towards his shoulder and sending him stumbling off to the side.


    The front opened up now. Like that, the cage was broken, and it was as though he''d taken in a deep gulp of air. The next two strikes were easily dodged. The one at his torso he merely twisted to avoid, and the other he merely stepped into his newly conquered space to avoid.


    The leader of the party scrambled back to his feet, having nearly lost his bnce after Beam''s push.


    There was true fury in his eyes now.


    "I''m going to make you suffer, boy," he spat.


    "We should have brought our spears," the thin man said. "He wouldn''t stand a chance against those. Nor would this noisy damn crowd."


    There was a clear hint of anxiety to his voice, as he nervously nced over his shoulder, sensing that tensions were building up and that his time was running out.


    Beam, for his part, looking as calm as he had when the conflict had first started, even as blood ran down his arm and flowed off his wrist.


    "Beam¡­." N murmured from behind him, the worry clear in her voice.


    He would have moved to reassure her. But from the look in the soldiers'' eyes, he figured he wouldn''t get a chance. They moved in without orders this time, their strikes filled with rage, as each of them foregoing their normal group fighting tactics, of attacking different parts of his body, and they all merely aimed to kill.


    The blows came in slightly quicker after that, but it didn''t cause any issues for Beam. He merely took two light steps back, and avoided the flurry of blows at once. When the first strike had ended, he moved in to reim his space, by nudging the other two strikes aside with quick motions on both swordsmen''s wrists.


    They ended up stumbling behind him, just as the leader of the party had before. This time they didn''t let up. As they got behind him, they came at him again, charging recklessly, truly surrounding him now.


    Beam wasn''t so good when it came to that kind of awareness. There had been improvements, of course, but he would still much prefer to have his enemies in his vision where he couldfortably deal with them.


    Because of the change in circumstances, Beam was forced to move. Just as the leader of the party to the front of him was raising his sword up once more, Beam lunged in, using the man''s momentum to throw him backwards, before he swiftly dealt with the two soldiers behind him.


    The first strike to his back came for overhead, and so he ducked, and tripped the man''s feet out from underneath him. For the other man, he closed the distance between them before he could even bring his sword down, and he struck at the fingers of his sword hand, forcing the man to drop his weapon.


    Beam noted that his movements were growing increasingly violent. Before he''d been able to just defend, but now he was forced to offer strikes back of his own, though they were strikes of the most minor level.


    The crowd roared in delight. "GET THEM, BOY!" They screamed.


    The soldiers only grew angrier. They noted Judas and N stood behind him. Looking for Judas to Beam, they couldn''t decide who was stronger. It made sense to try for a weaker target, but with Judas looking as intimidating as he did, they weren''t quick to try that.


    Instead, their eyes wandered to N. Devilish looks of understanding were shared between the two men, as they thought they had found a weakpoint.


    But like a gust of wind, there were more murmurs sweeping through the crowd. The soldiers hadn''t noticed yet, but Beam thought he did. He squinted towards the source of themotion, and began to rx.


    The soldiers dove in once again, just in time to put their antics on full disy for theirmanding officer.


    Beam did his best to look as innocent as possible. He kept his hands up defensively, but did not curl his fingers into fists, making it clear that he was merely intent on warding off the blows.


    A strike came shing down from above. Greeves and Lombard broke the wall of the crowd, and Beam made eye contact with the Captain. The man clearly grimaced.


    "LOWELY, ANGRITH, BARTHA, STAND DOWN!" He bellowed. Somehow the voice of a single man managed to make the roars of the crowd from earlier seem quiet.


    The men jolted as though hit by an electric shock, and immediately stiffened up to attention. Years of training overrode their every instinct, and hearing their Captain''s voice, they acted before their mind could process what was happening. They had to ¨C any hesitation in the military would be ordingly punished.


    Only after they were standing to attention, with their arms by their sides, and their chins high, waiting for orders, did they stop to realize that their Captain had arrived. Clear looks of worry shed across their faces.


    "Yes, I do think that''s the right expression," Lombard said gravely.


    Greeves was walking along meekly beside him, looking like a whipped dog, a defeated look on his face. He nced at Beam with a scowl and shook his head.


    "I see your dogs are causing yet more trouble," Lombardmented, eyeing the man. "It seems to me that you are at the centre of everything that wrongs me as ofte. Anyments on that?"


    "¡­I have none," Greeves said in an exhausted tone, apparently sick of defending himself. The irritation that he nced towards Beam with was ptable though, and Beam was inclined to feel a little bit sorry for him.

 Chapter 208: Counter Measures - Part 14

    "Hm. What about you? Angrith? What possessed you towards such madness? I don''t know if you''ve noticed, but you riled up over a hundred angry vigers. Are you intent on seeing our defences run into the ground?" The Captain asked icily.


    The leader of the men ¨C who Beam could only presume was Angrith ¨C stepped forward solemnly and bowed his head in apology.


    "The boy wronged us. We came here seeking justice for those wrongdoings," the man said.


    "Did he now?" The Captain said, ncing at Beam, and narrowing his eyes at the cut on his forearm. "And that is the best you managed to do to him, even as you heave your breath in front of me like you''ve just fought a war?"


    The man was unable to meet Lombard''s gaze. "We have no excuse," he said solemnly.


    Lombard made a clear disy of sighing, as he rubbed his eyes in irritation. "So? What did the boy do?"


    The soldiers shared a few awkward nces. The thin man from the butcher''s stall stepped forward. "He interfered with a business deal that I was in the midst of making, and invoked your name to get me to leave."


    "Did he now?" Lombard said with a raised eyebrow, looking towards Beam. "And why would he do that?"


    Beam lowered his head, imitating the gesture he''d seen from the soldiers. "I merely suggested that if the man wished to purchase meat, that he pay for it, or he leave," Beam said.


    "See how he talks, Captain? He has such arrogance for a peasant," the man said, desperately trying to appeal to Lombard. Lombard silenced him with a raised hand.


    "Excellent work, gentlemen. You chose to exercise the rights of your ss at the worst possible time, for the worst possible reason. You attempted to cut down a boy as he stood up for his fellow vigers. Can you think of no better grounds for insurrection?" Lombard said, irritated. "And look at this crowd that has gathered. They will not disperse until they see justice for their fellow man."


    "That''s night duty for the next three weeks for each of you, and Angrith, I demote you back down to corporal. If you are so unable to understand our position, then yourck of understanding will merely infect the rest of the troops. Take this time to relearn what it means to be a sergeant," Lombard said, delivering their punishments on the spot, purposefully in front of the crowd.


    The soldiers epted it gracefully, without letting the displeasure show on their faces, but now they were looking to Beam, eagerly awaiting what punishment he might receive.


    "And you¡­ boy," Lombard said, his eyes flickering in irritation. "Yourck of proper manners endangers your fellow men. In different times, in different circumstances, your vige could burn to the ground for this.


    It is only because I have need of you that my hand will be stayed, but you must take that punishment in their ce, you must demonstrate that you and the rest of the vigers have more worth to me alive than dead."


    "To that end, you and that giant over there will assist my troops inbat for the remainder of our stay. I have great need of men, now that there are so many monsters pouring down from the upper forest," he said.


    A murmur went through the crowd at that, as though they were unsure whether to be happy with that punishment or not. In their eyes, of course, Beam shouldn''t be getting punished at all ¨C he was merely defending them.


    "I will do as you ask," Beam said, "but I would like something in return ¨C warn your soldiers against using their position to dominate the vigers. They are causing conflict needlessly. I''m sure it will be better for you if the vigers aren''t worn to the ground by your men, no?"


    Behind Lombard, Beam could see Greeves droop his head in a disy of exhaustion. He seemed as though he wanted to let loose the same sigh that Lombard had earlier, but instead, he settled for shaking his head.


    Lombard caught that look of exasperation on Greeves'' face, and his gaze softened for a second. "It seems you have it tough, merchant, trying to keep dogs like this in line¡­" he then turned to face Beam, and after studying him for a moment, he agreed. "Very well ¨C but this agreement is dependant on your own performance.


    If yourbat worth is less than that of any of my soldiers, this agreement will be nullified."


    "What about me?" N asked meekly.


    Far more eyes than she was used to drifted to N at once, surprised to see her speak up. She bowed her head slightly at the weight of their gazes, but she said what she intended to say anyway. "You''ve punished both Judas and Beam, yet I''m guilty of the same crimes as them. I won''t be the only one to walk away for free."


    Beam raised an eyebrow and shook his head, trying to let her know that what she''d done was beyond unnecessary, but she merely shot him a fierce re back.


    "¡­What a strange bunch of peasants," Lombard murmured, though despite his stony face, Beam did not think he looked particrly displeased. "Very well. You, girl, will be in charge of overseeing the rtions between my men and the vigers. If they grow too overbearing, you may use my name. But if you misuse it, expect weighty consequences."


    The crowd murmured again at that, but this time, instead of in anger, there were vague waves of excitement. The agreement struck between Beam and the Captain had been a huge step for them earlier ¨C but they had no guarantee that things would actually end up as the Captain proposed. But now, with N there, with the Captain''s authority, they were all but guaranteed at least some measure of peace.


    N didn''t look too pleased. She hadn''t wanted to get split up from Beam. But after a reassuring nod from him, she hardened her resolve and nodded back.

 Chapter 209: Distrust - Part 1

    "Now, disperse with this crowd," Lombard demanded, his voice hardening into his usualmanding tone. "You two," he said, gesturing towards Beam and Judas. "You will follow us back to camp and begin your work immediately. And you, merchant, you continue to do as I''ve asked of you ¨C and send no more whores to my camp until this problem has been dealt with."


    As soon as they were away from the vige, the mood about the group of travelling men began to change.


    By the time they reached the tents, Lombard was radiating a distinct hostility, despite not having said a word. The soldiers looked at them strangely as they marched through the camp, but none of them said a word.


    "Angrith, fetch Tolsey," Captain Lombard ordered as they stood outside his tent.


    Angrith saluted stiffly. "Sir!" And then he moved off to do as he was told.


    Lombard did not even look at Beam as they waited for the man he''d named Tolsey to arrive. Beam noted that he kept his hand towards the hilt of his sword, and merely red with narrowed eyes about the encampment.


    Soon enough, after a few moments of awkward waiting, a man that Beam could only assume was Tolsey hurried over to them, a distinctly nervous look on his face, and a sheen of sweat on his forehead, matting his long blonde hair against his skin.


    Despite his magnificent beard, he had a youthful face, and Beam doubted that he was past his thirties.


    "Vice-Captain Tolsey," Lombard said.


    "Sir!" Tolsey saluted.


    "Angrith, take the rest of the men and relieve those on the defensive line. Bring the giant with you, find out how useful he''ll be," Lombard ordered.


    "You want him on the line, sir?" Angrith asked.


    "On the line," Lombard agreed. "If he''s up to it, he''ll survive, if not, then he had no use to us anyway. Dismissed."


    Judas shot Beam a worried nce as the soldiers tried to lead him away. Since his name hadn''t been mentioned, Beam wasn''t sure if he should go with them or not. As soon as he made a step to join them though, Lombard answered that question for him.


    "You stay here, boy," Lombard said icily, a hostility in his voice that was not present in the square.


    Beam just shrugged, and waved Judas away. "Take care not to die straight away," he told him.


    "Can''t you say something less fuckin'' ominous..?" Judas muttered back, but from the look on his face, he was clearly nervous. There was a reason he didn''t engage in much monster hunting, after all ¨C because such things were terrifying.


    Tolsey looked surprised as only he was left to remain behind with Beam and the Captain. "Sir..?" He asked, clearly too nervous to pose a proper question.


    "Inside," Lombard said. "We will speak there."


    There was a distinct edge to the man''s tone, one that brooked no argument. Hesitantly, Tolsey ducked through the p of the giant tent, sparing a cautious look at his Captain as he went, to make sure he was doing the right thing. For a Vice-Captain, Beam certainly thought he was a nervous man.


    "You next," Lombard said to Beam, urging him inside. His gaze was far more dangerous than the one he''d had in the vige square. Beam had to wonder what had happened on the short walk over that had changed his mood so drastically.


    After a brief look behind him, and after dismissing the guards at the entrance to his tent, Lombard followed in after them and closed the tent p behind him with a sigh.


    For a Captain''s quarters, Beam certainly thought the tent was rather sparsely decorated. In that rather sizeable space, there was merely a singlerge table ¨C on which sat a map, and various wooden pieces ¨C and then a low bed in the corner,plete with rough-looking wool nkets.


    As Beam was ncing around nervously, he felt something cold levelled against the side of his neck. He nced down to see steel.


    Tolsey noticed it. "Captain..?" He asked in rm.


    "Draw your sword Tolsey. Assume the position I am in. If the boy makes any strange moves, kill him without hesitation," Lombard said.


    With a good deal of nervousness, Tolsey drew the sword at his hip, and levelled it at the other side of Beam''s neck. Only then did Lombard remove his own, though he did not sheath it.


    He moved to draw himself a chair away from the table. He sat it in the centre of the room, and with his de upon hisp, he sat, his gaze one of undisguised hostility.


    "Heh¡­" Beam murmured, a shiver going down his back. "So you were lying in the square, were you?"


    "Silence," Lombard ordered. "You will speak when spoken to, or you will die."


    "Captain¡­ What''s going on?" Tolsey asked.


    The Captain sighed, apparently reluctant to exin, but he did so anyway. "Ten minutes ago, I stumbled on this boy embroiled in conflict with three of our men, sergeant Angrith amongst them. As they fought, a hundred angry vigers raged beside them, on the verge of open rebellion."


    "Gods!" Tolsey mumbled, already understanding the significance of such an event, without it having to be exined to him.


    "Indeed," Lombard said. "A rather troubling scenario. I wonder, to what end do you move against me, boy?"


    "I don''t believe I''ve ever openly moved against you," Beam said.


    "No? Then why have you been sending men to sniff around my camp, mm? To what end do you gather information? Why were you set on unifying the vigers? It was a clumsy attempt, but with a clear goal of incitement," Lombard said.


    "Maybe you''d know if you stepped outside your camp for a second. Maybe if you took a nce at what your soldiers were up to in your absence, you''d understand," Beam spat back, Lombard''s hostility giving rise to his own anger.


    Lombard looked unamused. He stood up. "When he speaks with such disrespect, Tolsey, press your sword against his neck, like this," he said coldly, pushing the steel against Beam''s throat just enough to draw blood.

 Chapter 210: Distrust - Part 2

    "Those agreements were just a farse to you, then?" Beam muttered, as the steel sliced into his flesh.


    "I''d be a fool to speak inly in front of an angry mob of people on the verge of rebellion," Lombard told him, as though it was the most obvious thing in the world. "Merely diffusing the situation took priority. Though, that girl that was with you has been given some of my authority to wield ¨C to keep the peace.


    If your intentions are as noble as you im, then you should be quite satisfied with that, should you not?"


    "I am, and I was, until you put a sword against my neck," Beam spat.


    Lombard eyed him carefully, before shaking his head. "I do not believe you. You still hide much from me. Your actions do not match your words. I can not have such a dangerous spark in the midst of my defence. Either you speak truthfully to me, and reveal all that you are, or I cut you down to save myself the trouble."


    "Do they really not? If your informationwork is so good, if you already knew we were trying to gather information, then surely you already know what we''re looking for?" Beam said.


    Lombard narrowed his eyes, before motioning with his head for Tolsey to apply more pressure to his sword.


    "I have heard a much. A little girl has gone missing, yes? That''s not nearly motive enough to be going about things in the way that you are. Such attempts do not appear out of thin air. Let''s say this, perhaps your motives are pure, and you really do intend to find this girl to the degree that you im. Then who are you, such that you canmand things so?" Lombard said, with a re.


    "Who am I..?" Beam murmured, not understanding the question.


    "Indeed. Who are you? Do not think you can fool these eyes, boy. I would not have moved against you had you not moved against me, but from the off, I knew what you were. Do not y games with me," Lombard said.


    Beam recoiled. "What the hell am I?" He murmured to himself. All he could think of was Ingolsol''s curse. Perhaps the Captain had seen through that? But Dominus had told Beam that, a he was now, only an exceedingly sensitive eye would be able to detect the distortions within his aura. That was the sort of eye that belonged to someone of the Fourth Boundary¡­ Did that mean that the Captain was?


    "Tolsey, do you not see it as well?" Lombard said, turning his eye to his Vice-Captain instead.


    "¡­See what, Captain?" Tolsey said. Beam could almost feel the man wincing. Clearly, he didn''t like not having an answer to the Captain''s question.


    The Captain sighed and leaned back in his chair. "I brought you in here for a reason, you know. Do you not think the role you are ying now could be yed by any one of our men? What''s the difference between you and them?"


    The words cut Tolsey more deeply than the Captain had intended. In truth, the Vie-Captain was overjoyed to have the Captain''s trust, even for a moment. They''d only been working together for a little over a year, and during that time, Lombard had never explicitly treated him like Tolsey felt a Vice-Captain should be treated.


    He thought that was merely due to his ipetence. He thought that he had to work harder to earn the Captain''s trust. Even amongst all the soldiers of the city of Ernest, Captain Lombard''s name was well known. A veteran of many battles. A hard and disciplined man, able to survive the most gruelling of sieges.


    "Is it¡­ perhaps¡­ because I''m a noble?" Tolsey said, sounding disappointed even as he suggested it.


    "More than a noble, you are a knight," Lombard said firmly. "And whilst these are not exactly secrets that we knights carry, we still discuss such matters quietly, by unspokenw. Now, observe the boy closely. Look at his eyes. Tell me what you see."


    Tolsey nervously moved in front of Beam. Even facing a peasant, the man didn''t look confident. Beam thought his features to be far too kind for the role that he served. But as the men attempted to look at him, Beam did his best to re back. He could not calm the golden flecks that span around his eyes.


    Though they moved slowly now, and less bright than they would sometimes be ¨C they were certainly there.


    Every time he grew excited, they were there. Like two or three eyes in one ¨C the windows to the soul. But it was not exactly his eyes that Lombard drew conclusions from, but another attribute that he had. Tolsey concentrated a moment, and squinted, and only then did his eyes light up in recognition.


    "Gods! He''s passed through the Second Boundary?" Tolsey said, his voice nearly a shout.


    Lombard waved his hand in irritation. "Indeed, and if you could keep that a little quieter, I would appreciate it. Lest the Church get involved, and they use us of leaking religious secrets to the unworthy."


    "But¡­ But Captain, he''s a peasant! How could he have broken through the Second Boundary? It took me until I was in my twenties before I broke through!" Tolsey said.


    "Indeed. Hence my suspicions. Either he''s a mage''s thrall, or a cast off knight''s apprentice, there are hardly any instances where a man can break through the Second Boundary without guidance. So tell me," Lombard said, his lips curling into a cold smile. "Do you know of what we speak? Are you aware of what you have achieved?


    Tell me, how did you do it?"


    Beam red back. "I am," he said. Though he had not known it until Dominus had found him, and pointed it out to him, otherwise he would have lived his life oblivious to the fact, thinking that his progress had merely increased all of a sudden as a product of luck. Whereas in truth, he had shattered one of the many boundaries that constricted human potential.

 Chapter 211: Distrust - Part 3

    "Good," Lombard said, though he seemed surprised that Beam readily admitted it. "Who taught you to do as you did? Who is your master?"


    "I was not taught how to break through the Second Boundary, and my master does not wish to be named," Beam said.


    Lombard frowned at that. "Your master does not wish to be named, hm? Well, I''d expect not, since he has not shown himself. So tell me, this maser of yours, is he a knight?"


    "He is," Beam said.


    "So a knight that took a peasant under his wing, is it?" Lombard said. "Ad not only that, you im to have broken through the Second Boundary without his assistance. Well, I suppose that would make sense ¨C for what other reason would a knight apprentice a peasant? But something about it doesn''t sit right with me. What do you think, Tolsey?"


    Tolsey looked surprised to be asked his thoughts. "I think it sounds suspicious as well. How old are you, boy? How on earth did you manage to break through the Second Boundary so young, and without knightly training?"


    With a nod, Lombard approved those questions. "Indeed. Even with direction, knowing what areas they must work on in order to pass through the Second Boundary, most knights do not get there before their twentieth year, and most only do so after taking on an excessive amount of responsibility."


    "My master said it with suffering, responsibility and progress required to break through the Second Boundary," Beam said, fighting to keep the irritation out of his voice, as the steel of the sword continued to tap his throat in Tolsey''s shaking hand.


    "That is indeed what we are taught, yes," Lombard agreed.


    "Then you already have your answer," Beam said.


    "Suffering then is it?" Lombard mused. "Do you expect us to believe that you''ve endured such a magnitude of suffering, or that you''ve made such progress all by your lonesome, without the intention of breaking through anything?"


    "Not without intention," Beam said, his eyes fiery for a moment. "I looked for strength so that I could ease the worries of my family, though I did not find it until recently."


    "Soldiers on the battlefield, boy, the majority of them go years without ever touching the Second Boundary. Are you iming to have endured suffering worse than all of them? That you not only endured it, but you survived it, and that you made progress to boot? I have seen hells worse than you''ve imagined.


    I refuse to believe in your mere short years you have endured enough to earn udia''s favour," Lombard said.


    "Did you say your family was killed, boy?" Tolsey asked, picking up on something that Beam had said earlier.


    "In a raid, when I was eight," Beam said coldly.


    Lombard and Tolsey shared a look.


    "And what did you do from there? Did you live with another member of your family?" Tolsey asked, his voice kinder than Lombard''s.


    "No. I had no family left. I was enved by wartime merchants, in exchange for them saving me from fatal injury after the raid," Beam said. "Do you still disbelieve me, Captain?"


    He turned to look at Tolsey, even as the sword was pressed against his neck. He gave him a pointed look to see if he would do anything. Tolsey withdrew his de, and Beam took off his shirt.


    "There, the scars of a ve, are you satisfied now?" Beam was unable to keep the anger out of his voice.


    He heard Tolsey draw in his breath beside him, whilst Lombard remained stony-faced. "Put your shirt back on, boy," Lombard said.


    Beam did as he was told, but he was unable to keep the scowl off his face. The man had well and truly infuriated him now.


    "I suppose I might see how udia might favour you, now," Lombard said thoughtfully. "But only if you had the progress to match it, I suppose. I can not see how else you would have managed to pass the Second Boundary so young¡­ So then, struggler, now that I understand you a little better, why don''t you exin this situation with this master of yours?"


    "I don''t how much he''d want me to exin," Beam said. "Nor do I care enough for you that I''d be willing to anger him over it."


    "Your patience is wearing thin, is that what you mean to say?" Lombard asked with a sigh. "I suppose you are still a child after all¡­ But nheless, you are the child of a peasant. You must know your ce."


    So Lombard said, but his voice contained less harshness than it had in it earlier. Sensing the change in mood, Tolsey slowly took his sword away fro mBeam''s neck, with cautious nces at the Captain all the while. Lombard did not tell him to stop, so Tolsey gratefully sheathed his sword at his hip with a relieved sigh.


    "Hm¡­ How about this? Why does your master choose not to reveal himself?" Lombard asked.


    "He isn''t fond of people. E''s also given me the responsibility of protecting this vige, so he won''t interfere with it unless absolutely necessary," Beam said.


    Lombard narrowed his eyes. Something about the way Beam spoke of his master made him seem almost unimaginably strong. Why was that? He thought to himself. He considered it a moment, and then realized it was likely the respect that the boy put on his master''s name. A respect afforded to him, even as he treated Lombard with contempt.


    Just how strong did a man have to be in order to earn his loyalty?


    "Ah¡­" Lombard and Tolsey shared a look, as the Captain broke out into the slightest beginnings of a smile. "I do recall a time when I was presented with such a task, as a boy.


    Though I do not know of anyone that would be bold enough to present the entire responsibility of a vige''s protection to a child, even if they had passed the Second Boundary ¨C at most they would merely be required to assist in protecting it"

 Chapter 212: Distrust - Part 4

    "When I was a boy his age, my father only tasked me with wandering the streets of the East District in Ernest, and helping out anyone I saw¡­ When I finally passed the Second Boundary, it was a squadron of men that I was ced in charge of. That''s a good bit easier than ensuring the protection of near five-hundred peasants," Tolsey said, unable to stop his smile.


    "That is indeed how it tends to go. Your master must be quite the maverick, foisting such responsibility on you so early. He must be quite eager to see you progress through to the Third Boundary," Lombard said.


    "The Third Boundary?" Tolsey repeated, his skin whitening. "But he''s only a child still. Surely he won''t pass through the Third Boundary before his twentieth birthday?"


    Lombard looked at Tolsey with a harsh expression, enough to quieten him. But Beam could see the slightest traces of amusement about the man''s face. "You worry that he''ll reach the Third Boundary at a younger age than you reached the Second, mm?"


    Tolsey hung his head, apparently embarrassed to have it pointed out as such. "Not only that, but he''s still a peasant¡­ He didn''t have ess to all the things we did as children."


    "The Gods seem to care less for social rank than we do," Lombard said. "Competence ispetence. The military is one of the few ces that almost acknowledges that, at least in our country, with us on the losing end of this damnable war. Such would be true for you, boy, if you showed I could trust you."


    "Trust me, don''t trust me, I no longer care," Beam said, entirely done with the routine by now.


    Tolsey looked greatly put off by Beam''s attitude, but Lombard merely waved a hand. "It isforting, is it not, Vice-Captain? To see that despite his manoeuvrings, and his aura, he is still a child at heart."


    "I suppose you could say that¡­" Tolsey said meekly. "Though I''m not sure of any other sort of child that would dare to speak to a Captain like that. Not even a noble child would."


    "He''s greatlycking in many areas," Lombard agreed. "Though I could see why another knight might have interest in him. You''re not the schemer you appeared to be when I noticed your attempts to gather information and unite the vigers. Now that I look at them through the eyes of reflection, I see the clumsiness in those attempts." Lombard said.


    Beam twisted his face in a frown. He was still too irritated to respond to the Captain''s lighter tone.


    "So, you''re being tested by your master, are you? And it''s the defence of the vige you''re concerned with? Assuming those things to be true, should we not be allies? In terms of military might, having another soldier that has passed through the Second Boundary would greatly ease the strain that we feel on our defence," Lombard said.


    "It was the vige that my master charged me with protecting, not the soldiers. You''ve allowed your soldiers to do whatever they pleased," Beam said.


    "So that''s how you see it, is it?" Lombard murmured. "Did you think they were behaving that badly, Tolsey?"


    The Vice-Captain grimaced. "Well¡­ I''d heard a couple of reports, as I looked into the death of our men these past few days. And some of them might have been heavy-handed, at times¡­ But such is their right as the peasants'' social superiors."


    "Our only concern is keeping the men disciplined enough for battle, after all. As long as they aren''t actively damaging our defences, they may do as they please. They all need an outlet of some kind, after all," Lombard said.


    "Do the lives of peasants mean nothing to you?" Beam said, his eyes shing. "Do you think just because you''re given rank, you can do whatever you please? I will defend this vige with or without you. I do not mind making you my enemy."


    Ingolsol called, as Beam''s hand rested on the hilt of his sword. He wanted mayhem to be unleashed. Such blindness was infuriating.


    Tolsey grew rmed as he fumbled with his own sword, but Lombard merely regarded Beam with interest. "Such an honest boy, aren''t you?" The Captain said. "Your feelings are written on your face. ''Why should I listen to men weaker than me?'' is what you''re thinking, yes?"


    The Captain unleashed his aura in full, letting it loose like the wind. Beam felt it buffet him, enough to make it difficult to breathe, to put a weight on his shoulders, but it did not cower him. Dominus'' aura was far stronger, after all.


    "Hm¡­ Even after feeling that, you do not fear me?" Lombard said. Tolsey had turned white from the pressure, but Beam was resolute. "I think I begin to understand you, boy. Sheath your sword, Tolsey."


    "But Captain¡­" Tolsey protested, as Beam still radiated hostility.


    "Do it. I had an inclining before, but I realized something as you spoke, boy," Lombard said. "You''re the Mountain yer, are you not?"


    "The Mountain yer?" Beam repeated, his anger giving way to confusion.


    "Well, that is merely what the men have taken to calling you. Judging from the quantity of blood we''ve found, you''ve likely matched the kill count of over a hundred soldiers by your lonesome ¨C assuming that was you," Lombard said. "So for you, I might dare to make an exception."


    "An exception for what?" Beam asked.


    "For directing your aggression towards a Captain," Lombard said with an icy smile. "My distrust of you has vanished, now that I see how easily you wear your emotions on your sleeve. I will make use of you, I will. But it is in to see that I cannot entice you like I have the other men. You pay no respect to authority, nor even reason.


    You were so quick to make an enemy of me and my army the second I suggested that we might get between you and your role."

 Chapter 213: Distrust - Part 5

    "You''ve got a foolishness to you. But there''s also a clumsy strategy, from what I''ve seen in the vige. In short, you have use to me, so I will make exceptions. I do not believe in the same way that you do that peasants are worth as much as the Serving ss ¨C but not because I value the Serving ss. Merely because my men are soldiers, and they are capable ofbat.


    That skill inbat is what I hold in the highest regard."


    "Let me see¡­ what can I offer you, hm? Do I even need make the offer, for you were quite contentedly dealing with the monsters on your own¡­ That little ssh of monster blood on your sleeve makes that rather evident," Lombard said.


    Beam nced at his sleeve in rm. Sure enough, there, just below the elbow, was the tiniest ssh of green blood. Not even that anyone would notice, but apparently more than enough for the Captain''s perceptive eye.


    "Hm. Well, I suppose if you manage to deal with the monsters to an eptable degree, I do not mind extending my own informationwork towards your own, and helping you look for that little girl that you im to care so much for," Lombard said. "Though that too depends on your worth. If you do not have something equal to offer, in some area, then I will not make the exchange."


    "Deal with the monsters?" Beam repeated. "You mean, solve the heart of the problem?"


    Both Lombard and Tolsey shared a look of surprise, as Lombard broke into a wry smile. "It seems so foolish now to have been cautious around you. You would make for a very poor mage''s thrall with your propensity for honesty. Tell me, then, what is this heart of the problem? Our intel gave no mention of such an abundance of monsters. We have our own theories on why that might be, but what is yours?"


    Beam bit his lip hesitantly. He wasn''t used to talking to such an astute man, where each word he said was being so carefully measured.


    Seeing his hesitancy, Lombard waved a hand. "Fear not, I will not take it for free. All that you contribute to my cause will be paid back in due time. As you''ve stated your goal, know mine: I willplete the extermination of these Yarmdon men as soon as possible.


    I made such a promise to Lord ckwell, for he knew as well as I do that our men should be resting this winter, before they return to the eastern front."


    "Captain¡­" Tolsey said, surprised that he had begun to speak so equally to a peasant.


    Knowing what he was getting at, the Captain merely shrugged. "His attitude is one thing, but his usefulness is another. I know my duty. I will not let allow my pride to get in the way of it."


    At those words, Tolsey raised his eyebrows in surprise as though he had been enlightened. If he had a notebook on hand, Beam was quite sure that he would be writing those words down.


    At that, Beam decided to relent. It was not as though he was keeping information on the Shadows a secret on purpose. He told the Captain what he had seen the other night, leaving out the parts of his ying, but the Captain ended up inferring those anyway.


    As he listened, the Captain''s expression darkened, and a grim look took over. Even Tolsey grew pale, realizing the significance of it.


    "So, those are the mage''s thralls that we''ve been looking for," the Captain murmured, the fierce look of a military man overtaking his expression. "If we assume your words to be true, then the majority of the threats we are facing are the products of mana crystals¡­ but to have such an amount that there seems to be no end to the monsters¡­ that seems borderline preposterous."


    His words were quiet enough that he could have been talking to himself. The room went quiet for nearly a minute as the Captain fell into thought. Tolsey knew not to interrupt him.


    "Hm," the Captain spoke up finally. "I will have to ask for your assistance more immediately now, boy. If I have overestimated your strength in any way, you had best speak now, lest you face an early grave."


    Beam said nothing, for he didn''t know how highly Lombard was rating his strength in the first ce.


    The Captain took that to be a positive sign. He arose from his seat. "Good. We need breathing room from these monster attacks. We need to free up our men in preparation for the expected future assaults. Tolsey, relieve three squadrons of men from duty ¨C take their ce yourself.


    I will bring the boy in a moment.


    "Sir!" Tolsey saluted, and moved to leave the tent. Before he left, he spared a cautious nce toward Beam, as though wondering if he should really be leaving him alone with the Captain.


    "Your worry is unwee, leave," Lombard said, returning to his usual gruff manner of speech.


    As the canvas p of the tent entrance swayed, and Tolsey disappeared, Beam was left alone with the Captain.


    "You are not well rested," Lombard noted. "A product of your nightly activities, perhaps? Despite the orders that I put out. The men did wonder why there was such a small trickle of beasts to deal with, up until early afternoon."


    Beam said nothing. The Captain took that silence for affirmation, and did not press him. "Show me your sword," the Captain said instead.


    Beam drew it as he was told.


    "Mm," the Captain said, taking it from it. "A rather cheap de¡­ But you''ve cared for it well. It should get the job done. Do you wish for any armour?"


    With a shake of his head, Beam declined. "It would only slow me down. I''m used to wearing it."


    "Does your master not wear armour?" Lombard asked, curious.


    "He says that the enemies that he would require armour against are the same enemies that armour would not work against," Beam said, repeating Dominus'' line nearly word for word from when Beam had asked him the very same question.

 Chapter 214: Distrust - Part 6

    Lombard''s eyebrows shot up in surprise at that, and Beam saw him nodding. "There is a ring of truth to that¡­ Your master sounds an interesting man ¨C though I am still not convinced he is who you say he is."


    "I thought you said you trust me," Beam said.


    "To a degree ¨C at the very least, I do not think you all that skilled at deceit," Lombard said. "Though the presence of this master behind you, the type of figure needed for this to make sense. No logical namees to mind," Lombard told him.


    "Then why ask me to work for you? Couldn''t this all be part of my master''s grand n to stab you in the back?" Beam said.


    "The benefits outweigh the dangers, is what I am thinking," Lombard said. "Though that remains to be seen. Are you prepared to fight?"


    "I am," Beam said.


    "Good," Lombard replied with a grin. "My soldiers that you detest so much will be watching. I hope that you will give us all a good show."


    With those words, Lombard led Beam out of the tent and through the encampment, where everyone was hard at work. Beam saw the vige smith with a tent of his own, hurriedly working steel on a grindstone, with sweat on his forehead, as a handful of soldiers were gathered around him, trying to get him to take care of their things as well.


    Amidst the tents, Beam also began to see the wounded, groaning inside darkened rooms. Men on crutches, men with bandages around their heads. Men that looked like they wouldn''t be able to fight again for quite a while. There were far more of them than Beam would have expected. He saw nearly ten just on his short work, which left him thinking that there were likely a lot more.


    Past the soldiers, there were also some viger men moving through, with logs on their shoulders, as they carried freshly chopped wood from the forest towards the perimeter of the camp, where it would be cut down and used as part of the defences.


    The defences themselves were indeed beginning to take shape. Of course it wasn''t a grand wall or anything of the like, but that did not mean they were any less effective. Instead, they were viciously sharpened wooden stakes, the length of a man, driven into the ground at regr intervals, with the beginnings of a trench cut in front of them.


    It didn''t look like much, but it would certainly stop the brunch of a Yarmdon ¨C or even monster ¨C charge.


    It was towards the wood where Lombard was guiding him, where Beam saw smoke rise into the air. He heard the fighting before he saw it, men shouting orders, and others crying out as they made their attacks. He heard the familiar goblin screams amidst it all as well.


    As he drew nearer, Beam saw the source of the smoke. A fire upon which monster corpses were slowly burning, acting as a lure to keep the beasts in one ce. Beam had wondered why they had not all streamed in toward a weaker point in the soldier''s defence ¨C for the men were by andrge concentrated nearlypletely at their camp by now ¨C but now he had his answer.


    Lombard saw his gaze. "The corpses that aren''t burning are covered in oil," he exined. "No monster is going to be able to make use of them, and if they try, they''ll be setting their digestive tracts on fire."


    The oil made Beam a little envious. If he''d had that the night before, then perhaps he wouldn''t have ended up in so much trouble. He wondered if that was merely one of the many benefits of being an official army ¨C that you had such resources you could y around with.


    They were nearing the edge of the forest by now, the camp was a little distance away, reced by clear ins of grass, and the looming dark shadow of fur trees up ahead.


    The soldier''s line ¨C eight squadrons of five men ¨C were set up just a few steps away from the forest, enough that they could see into the tree, but so the branches and the like wouldn''t get in the way.


    The men were already hard at battle, with their spears lowered.


    Beam saw a group of goblins chattering amongst the trees as they debated the best time to attack, whilst a lone Konbreaker was surrounded by two squadrons, as one drew its attention, whilst the other aimed to attack its undefended back.


    There were three Gorebeasts as well, being handled by the other parties¡­ and then there was Tolsey, amidst it all, giving orders to the sergeants of three squadrons, and taking their ce on the line.


    His own foe was a Gorebreaker and two more lesser goblins on top of it. He drew his sword, and stood in a stiff battle stance.


    The Gorebreaker charged at him, and lithely, with a speed that Beam had never seen in any other man than Dominus, he sidestepped the Gorebreakers attack, and used the moment to cut down one of the goblins.


    His strikes were stiff and precise, as though he had practised the same stroke thousands of times over, as part of a formal style.


    The Gorebreaker growled at hisck of attention, and came lunging in at him from the back. Tolsey calmly dodged once more, this timending a strike on the beast''s side as it came streaming past.


    "He''s strong," Beam said, surprised.


    "He''s a knight of the Second Boundary," Lombard said, as though it was obvious that he would be strong.


    Tolsey was aware of their presence, and hearing their words filled him with pride. He had to fight to keep the smile off his face, as he concentrated on the battle, keen to end the battle swiftly, and make a good impression on the Captain.


    The wounded Gorebreaker was more hesitant to charge in now. It stopped looking to attack Tolsey directly, and more seemed to want to run around him, towards the scent of the monster corpses, and the promise of untapped power.

 Chapter 215: Distrust - Part 7

    The other goblin was of the same mind. It had acknowledged its brethren''s death, and was dancing around erratically, looking for a way past Tolsey.


    But the Vice-Captain''s eyes were fixed upon it. As soon as it made a step to go around him, Tolsey''s precise sword stroke cut it in half.


    In that moment of inattention, the Gorebreaker made its move. Tolsey noticed it just a moment toote. He panicked. With the Gorebreaker half a step in front of him, his sword was unable to reach it, and he chased after it.


    The beast ran straight towards where Beam and Lombard were standing. The Captain drew his sword with a sigh, and finished the beast with a blinding speed that put the Vice-Captain to shame. The headless corpse went skidding to a halt some distance behind them.


    "It seems three squadrons worth of space is still too much for you, Vice-Captain," Lombard said, his words harsh, but his voice neutral, as though he had expected such a thing.


    Tolsey hung his head in shame.


    The Soldiers soon finished up their work as well. That was when Beam noticed that Judas was amongst them. There was a spear in his hand now ¨C a spear that looked far too small for him ¨C rather than his usual baton, and his strikes made asting impact on the Konbreaker.


    The sergeant gave orders, apparently having noticed Judas'' skills by now, putting him on the back of the beast, where he''d be more likely to deal a killing blow.


    Beam could see even from a distance that the man had fear flowing through his veins. He empathized with that feeling. A fierce adrenaline leant Judas'' movements strength, and with a thrust of his spear, he staggered the Konbreaker.


    But even that wasn''t enough to put it down. "Again!" The sergeant called, and once more the spears crossed, jabbing the Konbreaker all over, but attempting to keep its attention towards the front, where its shell would be less useful.


    Another jab of Judas'' spear, and this time the other men were able to join him, as the beast''s movements grew more sluggish from its wounds, even as its anger grew.


    Eventually, they managed to put it down, and they announced their victory with limp cheers, before moving on to deal with the goblin. Judas looked at home amongst them, despite the obvious tenseness in his movements, from the fear.


    But the men looked exhausted, to the point that it surprised Beam. They looked like they''d been fighting all night.


    "The fatigue has built up in them," Lombard exined. "Which is where youe in. Show me what you''ve got, Mountain yer. Herees the next wave, are you ready?"


    Through the trees, Beam could see more Gorebeasts streaming down, along with some horned goblins. He didn''t feel much of anything after seeing their arrival, aside from maybe a mild irritation ¨C for he was growing sick of their appearance by now.


    But, as far as Beam was concerned, as long as they weren''t the evolved versions, they could send as many as they wanted. Just the memory of the Titan was enough to send chills down his spine at this point.


    Beam nodded at Lombard''s question and drew his sword.


    "Vice-Captain Tolsey, stand down ¨C we''re sending in the boy," Lombard ordered, loud enough so that the sergeants of the other squadrons could make note of the transition.


    Tolsey nodded seriously and withdrew his sword. He worked past Beam as the boy went towards the front line.


    "Good luck," he said mildly. A noble wishing a peasant luck ¨C even that would have been special in different circumstances. But Beam was growing focused now. He had his own tiredness that he was battling with, after only managing a mere few hours of sleep. He spared Tolsey another nod, and ignored the intense gazes that he could feel the rest of them giving him.


    By now, out of the corner of his eye, he could see that the other squadrons had about finished up their kills, and were busy dragging them away, towards the fire. Judas was amongst them. Beam could hear his loud voice drawing attention towards Beam, and pointing.


    "Ah! There he is. Just when you wrongin''s were starting toplement my handiwork, the boy''s shown up and he''s about to steal all my thunder," Judas said.


    His words were met with chuckles and doubtful nces. He seemed to have already established himself as something of a joker amongst the men, despite his short time there.


    Beam returned his attention back to the battlefield. Three Konbreaker and a pack of horned goblins. Far more than even three squadrons would normally be dealing with alone. Lombard had been about to give the order for another couple of squadrons toe in and take the load off him, but when he saw how calmly Beam was poised, he paused.


    "Captain¡­ Should we not..?" Tolsey urged from his side, but Lombard merely held up a hand.


    "Why don''t we wait and see, mm?" Lombard said.


    With a deep breath, Beam organized his thoughts. It had been a busy morning, after all. He''d woken up in an unfamiliar ce, and caused all kinds of waves in the vige square. The social stuff was what wore on him most, and despite putting on a brave face, it quickly got to him, as evidenced by his increasingck of patience during Lombard''s questioning.


    But now here he was, in a moment that he had trained for. In a situation that he had grown rather adept at handling. He wasn''t sure how he felt about suddenly fighting on Lombard''s behalf, but when he considered it, he did not think his master would quibble with his decision.


    "It''ll be good experience for you, fighting with the soldiers and the knights alike," Dominus said. "You''ll need all that going for you if you''re ever going to be capable of taking on the Pandora Goblin," Beam could imagine him saying.

 Chapter 216: Distrust - Part 8

    ''Right,'' Beam thought to himself. ''That''s right. It wasn''t what I''d nned to do from the start, but this works to my benefit. If I can make use of everything at my disposal, if I can form those connections properly, those connections that I need for things to grow more unified, for information to grow more freely ¨C then I should have a shot.


    I would have been protecting the vige from the monsters in the shadows anyway.''


    ''I suppose, despite all that time spent cautiously moving, hiding my capabilities, it''s time to show what I can really do. There is much I don''t understand, after all. Much that I need other people for. If they can see value in my assistance enough that they''ll help me in return, just as Greeves does¡­. Then yeah, I think it''s worth going all out.''


    "Three Gorebeasts!" One sergeant shouted.


    The soldiers took up the cry. "Three Gorebeasts, assume defensive positions! Move the corpses out the way! Out the way! Get the oil on!"


    "Gimme those!" Judas shouted, unable to keep the panic out of his voice. He grabbed the Gorebeast corpse that several soldiers were struggling with, and dragged it with such ease towards the fire that it looked as though he was about ready to throw it.


    And when he got to the pile, he really did.


    The soldiers did have time to spare too many shocked nces amongst themselves, for the enemy was alreadying.


    "We''ve got the Rare Goblinsing in as well!" A sergeant called ¨C the same sergeant as before. It seemed that his eagle eyes were trusted to pick out what enemies they would be facing in advance.


    By Rare Goblins, Beam assumed they meant what he called Horned Goblins, for that was the only prey that he could see.


    "Horned Goblins and Gorebeasts! Step it up! Favour the left nk, guide the enemy left!" The sergeants called, getting the tired soldiers into ce. Many of them still had not properly recovered their breaths from the previous attack, and already they were being forced into position with their hands on their spears.


    Lombard gave a signal, as he watched them busy themselves. A slight flick of his wrist indicated that he wait. One of the sergeants acknowledged themand, understanding his intentions.


    "Remain in reserve Remain in reserve until the order is given!" The Sergeant repeated.


    Tolsey couldn''t help but watch the disy with a hint of anxiousness. He was nobility, after all. He''d been trained since a young boy in the martial ways, and now that he was in his early thirties, he had a good amount of experience under his belt. Peasant or not, Second Boundary or not, he didn''t feelfortable sending a child in against such unfavourable odds and alone to boot.


    Especially since he knew the limits of his own Second Boundary ¨C that he still struggled against the Gorebeast enough to let it go flying past was evidence of that.


    But he dared not bring that up to the Captain, not when he had already earned the man''s trust.


    Besides, Beam was already in the depths of focus, Tolsey could see that from a distance.


    The Gorebeasts tossed up dirt behind them as they ran. Their breath misted in the cold air, and fat droplets of salvia were continually flung from its tongue, as it ran with maddened eyes on that front leg of his.


    The three of them had one goal and one goal only ¨C the delicious pile of meat thaty beyond the foolish humans that dared to stand in their way. They turned their direction so that they might reach it more quickly.


    Beam responded with the subtlest shifting of his feet in return. It was not enough to really match the Gorebeast''s change in their course, not exactly, but it was enough to cut off the space that they''d intended to traverse.


    That direction seemed to have a weight to it now, as they hesitated to run straight there, not without confronting the threat of the boy first. Their instincts told them as much ¨C though there was still a good distance between them and him, with that slight turning of his feet, he was now more than capable of reaching him.


    They altered their course once more, this time directing it straight toward him. Even amongst the Gorebeasts, there were disparities in strength, and one was clearly faster than the others, as it took the lead, putting a distance of several steps between it and its brethren.


    All the while, the Horned Goblins flitted through the trees, twittering like crickets on a hot summer''s day. Only these crickets bore the yellow eyes of the devil, and with bows primed with arrows in their hands, they were looking for any opportunity they could to take advantage of the chaos.


    Beam thought that they might even look down on the Gorebeasts somehow, with the way that they positioned themselves, to take advantage of the Gorebeast''s attack.


    Such was hisst thought before all thoughts vanished, and the first Gorebreaker neared his range.


    He crouched lower, and then sprang out to meet it. Even with that steel-like jaw that it had, with its mouth so full of threats, its body still seemed to be incredibly full of weakness.


    Their paths crossed. The creature lunged out with its front leg, using its vicious front ws to attempt tond the first blow on Beam. But Beam avoided it easily. Too easily, in fact. He moved at a speed that was quicker than what he was used to, and he was almost thrown off bnce because of it.


    Just as he was about to deliver the counterattack, and cleave open the beast''s side, he stepped back instead, feeling out of rhythm, with the umtion of the night''s fatigue wearing on his movements, but also his increase in speed doing the same.


    Was a single night really enough to increase his speed like that, he wondered? He''d never had such a thing happen before, at least not so dramatically. But then he remembered the conditions for his progress ¨C the union of Ingolsol and udia. He''d achieved that, for the briefest of moments, when he''d felt at his most powerful, as he slew the Titan.


    Perhaps the leaked-through light that he''d glimpsed in that domain ¨C perhaps that was what he was feeling.

 Chapter 217: Distrust - Part 9

    As the Gorebeast flew past him, the onlookers caught their breaths. To them, it had merely been an adept disy at dodging. It was only Tolsey and Lombard that was able to see what was going on below the surface. Lombard more so than Tolsey.


    The two shared a look, before their eyes returned to the battlefield.


    Beam could feel his hands tingling, as he turned away from the Gorebeast behind him, to acknowledge the two approaching from the front. He was a bit faster now, that much seemed to be true. But just as his speed was avable, there was also a sluggishness to his body ¨C albeit to a much lesser degree than his speed ¨C that he found difficult to navigate.


    He created his opportunity with his trusty misdirection skill, that he had spent so long working on. He raised his sword up over his shoulder, feigning an overhead sh on the Gorebeast. The animal clocked the strike long in advance, and adjusted itself so that it would manage to dodge it, and secure a strike of its own.


    But at thest second, just as the Gorebeast hadmitted its entire weight to its own attack, only then did Beam feint his backstep.


    It was the fastest feint that he had ever managed to carry out, and the results were just as good to make up for it. The Gorebeast''s eyes bulged, and it felt the overwhelming threat of death looming over its head. It hurriedly scrambled to a halt, so that it would be well out of Beam''s range.


    Yet, that backstep had been a mere feint, after all. Beam''s mass had remained almost entirely on his front foot, allowing him to easily transition back into his strike, just as the Gorebeast lined itself up perfectly to receive it.


    The de caught it above the shoulder, and dug straight through, barrelling through the rib cage, piercing lung and heart, and slicing its front paw straight off.


    There was a roar of delight from the soldiers, as they witnessed the disy.


    "GO ON LAD! GET HIM!"


    Cheers that he did not expect to hear, for his experience with the soldiers had only been negative ones. Yet, to them, on the frontline as he was now, the stronger he was, the better it was for them. For each and every one of the soldiers on duty was exhausted, and they were only growing more tired still, as each day passed.


    They needed something to reverse that momentum, to negate their weakening morale and give them a chance to recover.


    Anything that helped in that regard, they would throw their all behind, and praise their Captain for bringing over. Be they a peasant or dog.


    Even with one Gorebeast dealt with, Beam was not able to rx. There had been two charging in from the front, after all, and the one that had gone skidding past him was now recovering, though its movements were uncertain. It seemed to be looking between Beam and the pile of meat, trying to decide whether it could make a breakthrough or not.


    But with each step it took away from Beam, it could feel an increasing amount of dread. Even though the boy''s back was turned away from him, and there was a distance of a few steps between them, it knew that if it showed its back to this enemy, then it would surely die.


    Beam''s misdirection had an effect on both Gorebeasts. As the first one fell to the floor in a pool of blood, the second one had been simrly tricked by Beam''s movements, and it hurried to recover itself, now that it saw where he was truly standing.


    With it struggling to get its feet under it so that it might change direction, Beam locked it with a re, freezing it in ce. His sword was primed and ready to take another life ¨C yet a shift in the air informed him of another danger up ahead.


    An arrow sprang from the trees, narrowly missing Beam''s ear as he lightly tilted his head to the side. Another arrow came towards his chest. He managed to step out of the way of that too.


    There was angry chattering amongst the Horned Goblins in response to their foiled attack, but a decision must have been made, for three spear wielders soon made their way out of the trees.


    Beam felt a shift in the momentum. It would have been nice to kill the two Gorebeasts at once, after he''d foiled their charge, but now he was forced to take a step back and recover, as he continued to acknowledge the beast that was behind him, as well as taking into ount the one to the front and the Horned Goblin''s that now moved to support it.


    "Reinforcements, Captain?" Tolsey asked just loudly enough for the other sergeants to hear, so that they might put the response to the question into action immediately.


    Lombard paused for a moment, considering the situation, with the boy surrounded by monsters on all sides. Of course, there was the risk that he would get injured, and Lombard''s investment would have fallen through. He had already proved his worth, after all. Tolsey seemed to understand that.


    The Vice-Captain had gulped when he''d seen just how easily the boy had dealt with a Gorebeast. A single effortless strike, to kill it with such sureness, it was as though it was a mere bug to him. It was enough to make him lose confidence in their own abilities.


    Tolsey knew with that strike that the boy was as strong as him ¨C if not stronger. For that reason, he knew that the Captain had guessed it as well. When one had such strength at their disposal, he knew the worth in conserving it, and using it effectively. For it was the Captain himself that had taught him that.


    Already, they knew that their defence would be far easier with the boy on their side ¨C and yet the Captain seemed to expect even more of him.


    Tolsey could only continue to watch, as the hesitancy bit at his heart. But he did not move to interfere. He trusted far too much in his Captain for that.


    The monsters settled into a loose formation around Beam. The tension in the air was palpable. Manipted by the goblins, the group settled into an odd unity, into a single-minded approach. With three spears pointed his way, and the thering mouths of two Gorebeasts, it was right to call it a rather tricky situation. From anyone else''s point of view ¨C it would indeed be a death trap.

 Chapter 218: Distrust - Part 10

    And then, to top it all off, amongst the trees, Beam knew there to be at least two Horned Goblin archers somewhere.


    Despite the adversity, Beam had rued a frightening amount of experience with these enemies over thest couple of days, and he thought he knew their strengths rather well. He was even ustomed to fighting their evolved forms.


    That''s why Beam could tell, even as the beasts surrounded him, that there was something off about them.


    "They''re weaker¡­" He murmured to himself, as he flicked the blood from his sword. Hisment was not about their physicality. For physically, they were just the same as the enemies he had grown to remember. But it was that weakness behind the eyes, the weakness of soul, the same thing that he had begun to sense with the Titan.


    It was as though they were more frayed in that area of soul. Ingolsol could sense it too. The Dark God dared him to takemand over the beasts, and y them even as they pledged their allegiance to him.


    But though Beam had decided to demonstrate his strength properly, so that Lombard would dedicate his all to the assistance that he gave him, he also knew that his curses were something that he should keep to himself.


    Dominus had warned him about their seriousness all that time ago. Those who bore the Curse of Ingolsol were meant to die, lest they cause cmity around them. If it was ever discovered, the people around him would grow almost assuredly grow fearful, as they anticipated the day that he lost control of himself, and Inglsol took fully over.


    Especially now that his vessel was that of a Second Boundary warrior, and he had rued all the skills he had. He had integrated both Ingolsol and udia''s marks into his own soul, subordinating them, making them a source of power and making them easier to control.


    But the ease with which he could now control them would be ignored, instead, people would only see the danger that he posed, the danger of the bomb that he had created, and the destruction it threatened to reap.


    "WATCH YOUR BACK, BOY!" One man called amongst the men. The soldiers were rooting for him as well, having guessed their Captain''s intentions. None were close enough to the Captain to call him friend, but all who had fought for a time under him grew to trust him, to a degree that was exceptional even amongst the army.


    Beam was already aware of what was at his back. Even if his awareness was his weakness ¨C it wasn''t that weak. Yet, as more men joined that soldier''s cry, he did begin to feel the weight of that boost in morale. A different kind of strength leaked out of him, as the people called for a hero.


    Beam sucked in a deep breath. One of the goblins jabbed a Gorebeast from behind with a spear, wounding it enough to force the beast for it. With how wound up the monster was, it did not snap at the goblin behind it, but merely lunged forward, directing all its anger at Beam.


    Like that, the stalemate was broken, and the monsters came charging in together, crashing down like a great tidal wave.


    Only this tidal wave was more of a careful. It sought to close off all Beam''s options, and ensnare him in ce, in time for that fatal blow to be dealt.


    With the first Gorebeast came the second, charging in from behind. Whilst the two animals lumbered in, controlling their space with their speed, the Horned Goblins read the battlefield, and controlled whatever scraps of space were left over, as the entire force came in as one, in a true encirclement.


    There was none to see it, but as the soldier''s cries increased in volume, purple flecks rose up into his eyes, as udia gave her his blessing, urging him to give the people what they asked for.


    With such demands, there was only one style ofbat Beam could settle for. There was no need to tempt in the Gorebeasts with his misdirection, to force them into a position such that he could offer that fatal strike. Instead, he readied his sword, dering that he would ovee any amount of resistance that was put in his way.


    The Gorebeast neared and lunged.


    "CAREFUL BOY!" The soldiers all roared different pieces of advice, Judas bellowed amongst them.


    "SHOW THESE TIN-HEADS WHAT YOU CAN DO, BEAM!" He bellowed, his voice far louder than the rest.


    Beam moved with such speed and overwhelming force, that he could feel himself forcing the air apart. Before the Gorebeast could even near his throat, Beam moved with blinding speed, bringing his sword down in a single mighty strike.


    It hit the Gorebeast where it was toughest ¨C that iron-like snout that it had. It made such a thing look like it was made out of paper, as it tore straight through it, driving through the Gorebeast''s brain, immediately killing it.


    The strike didn''t stop there, however. It did not slow until it had cleaved the beast straight in two, with its blood and organs spilling out altogether.


    What Beam had noticed earlier ¨C that weakness of soul ¨C was made apparent a momentter, as the Gorebeast running from his rear flinched ever so slightly, as doubt crept into its mind, and a part of it looked to abort the attack.


    In the end, it continued charging forwards, but the dy was much toote.


    Arrows shot through the air, covering the Gorebeast''s failure, blocking Beam''s counterattack, and then two spear points ran towards Beam''s chest, looking to take advantage of hispse in attention.


    He managed to defend against them all with light movements, twisting his body as minimally as was necessary to dodge. Even as he avoided all those attacks, his slight slither of a speed increase lent him more options. His sword crept out and he managed to nick a Horned Goblin on its shoulder, forcing it to drop its weapon.

 Chapter 219: Distrust - Part 11

    With their attack brought to a screeching halt, Beam did not allow his own momentum to stop.


    The soldiers roared their delight. "YOU''RE A WAR GOD, BOY! FINISH THEM!" They bellowed.


    Tolsey spared a nce towards his Captain, wondering what his reaction might have been to that initial charge. The Vice-Captain still couldn''t help but feel uneasy. Being a fellow member of the Second Boundary, he found himself looking for Beam''s limits, and guessing that they weren''t far away.


    He had an inclining that the boy was merely good at attack ¨C that hisbat game must have been suffering somewhere else.


    But there was the lightest of smiles on Lombard''s lips. A rare sight indeed, enough to cause Tolsey to pause. Being in his forties as he was, Lombard was most set in his ways. Tolsey heard that he had a wife and a daughter ¨C but he had not even seen the man smile as he read their letters. He would respond as though it was a business matter, and pen his reply before dinner.


    Yet here he was, on the edge of a battlefield, with that smile daring to creep onto his lips. Tolsey had seen it in Lombard''s tent too. Just what was the Captain seeing that he was not? Was Tolsey truly that short-sighted? He turned his eyes back towards the fight, hoping to find what he was missing.


    With that Horned Goblin wounded, and the archers reloading, Beam pressed an attack of his own. The Gorebeast had already bounced away a distance, looking to create space before it began his next charge. The other two Horned Goblins were not so lucky. Theycked the speed of their fellow monster.


    Ignoring the unarmed goblin as it clutched at its shoulder, Beam dove in on the other two. They had turned to run, but now they made a split-second decision to turn around and face them, even as the fear crept into their eyes. If Beam did not have an army of soldiers watching, the battle would have been over the moment he slew the Gorebeast in such a dominant fashion.


    But then, he supposed, he wouldn''t have been able to y it so dominantly if not for udia''s excitement rising to the fore ¨C it was she that lent him the strength tond such a blow. She delighted in the making of a hero.


    The goblins turned to him, their spears threatening to keep him at a distance, but they weren''t enough. A most casual use of his misdirection training ¨C feigning left, before feigning right, before once more going left. Movements done at such rapid speed that it left the goblins at the deepest depths of the hole of confusion.


    The spear points strayed just slightly, unable to track him, and Beam''s sword crept out.


    A goblin head went flying, as itspanion squealed in terror beside it, having been coated with Beam''s blood. It turned to run, showing its back, but Beam''s sword crept across it, barrelling its way through its spine and ribs and cutting open lungs, leaving it spluttering in a fatal mess by the time it hit the ground.


    More cheers erupted from the men, as it became clear who the victor of this battle would be.


    "BOY! WATCH THE LAST GOBLIN!" Tolsey shouted in rm. He''d been more attuned than the rest in looking for weakness in Beam''s game, and in truth, he was shocked to see the boy turn the momentum so easily. Seeing him survive the first attack and kill a Gorebeast in exchange, he''d almost expected it, to a degree.


    Yet now the boy seemed to be theplete package. His speed and strength were such that he could fight multiple enemies at once. Tolsey wasn''t sure how that made him feel. As a man in his thirties, it certainly didn''t make him feel good. But then he realized his reaction was likely the wrong one ¨Cfor this boy was on his side.


    It was gratitude he should be showing, like his Captain, rather than jealousy.


    And so Tolsey found himself calling out, as though the boy was already arade, covering for a weakness that he might not have seen. He half expected the boy to already have noticed it ¨C but he didn''t want to leave it to chance all the same.


    Thatst goblin was reaching out towards the corpse of the split in half Gorebeast, with arge and bloody liver sat within its hands, preparing to take the first bite.


    The soldiers had learned one thing, throughout their many battles with the monsters. When a monster reached for meat in the midst of battle, that was a fear response. They did not do so unless they did not believe they could defeat an enemy with their current strength.


    Whether that was by some unspoken agreement, or whether they simply didn''t think to do it until their lives were just about to be taken from them, it was hard to say. But that was the pattern they had noted. The monsters would either run headfirst towards the pile, ignoring everything, or they would stand and fight. Once they had decided to fight, they typically fought until the end.


    Yet here this Horned Goblin was, reaching for Gorebeast flesh, plunging it towards his mouth. It was such an irregrity amongst the soldiers, that quite a few of them had never seen a monster evolve before.


    The final Gorebeast seemed to take notes from the Horned Goblin, as it too began to look for flesh to eat. Whereas the goblin had gone for Gorebeast flesh, the Gorebeast ran towards the goblin corpses.


    From experience, Beam knew just how fast these Gorebeasts tended to eat, and just how troublesome they were once they were evolved. He prioritised its ying, as more arrows whistled out from the trees.


    The arrows were little more than minor irritations now that the encirclement had been broken, and now that the enemy had gone from attacking him, to hunting meat themselves.

 Chapter 220: Distrust - Part 12

    The Gorebeast lunged in at the closest goblin corpse, and mped a leg in its teeth. With a mighty crunch, it shattered bone, and swallowed it whole. Before a man could even blink, it was onto its next bite. Beam didn''t know the exact amount of meat that it took for them to evolve, but he knew that it wasn''t much ¨C especially when it was the meat of a powerful monster.


    He was already sprinting in, as the Gorebeast went for its second bite. His movements were light enough, that it almost did not hear its approach. But even without hearing him, it could still sense him, and now it could feel the danger, as Beam''s swung towards its back.


    It underestimated the speed, and tried to get in another bite before the strikended. With the meat in its mouth, it attempted to spring away, only for Bam''s de to find it and put an end to its life.


    Cheers erupted, followed by urgent urgings. "LAST ONE! QUICK BEFORE IT EVOLVES!"


    Tolsey''s hand was going to his sword already, as he prepared to dash in and finish off thest Horned Goblin. It had already polished off the liver, and had now reached a blood hand in towards the creature''s heart, which it took, and then began to run away, as though it knew that that much meat from a higher monster like a Gorebeast would be more than enough for its evolution to happen.


    Sure enough, as Beam rushed towards it, the flesh of the Horned Goblin began to ripple, as though bing liquid. Its arm thickened, and its head erged, with long fangs sprouting out of it.


    With it trembling as it was, and Beam now stood just behind it, he could have dealt the finishing strike at, but he knew from experience that an aggression regeneration afflicted the monsters as they were evolving, so he paused his strike, even as the soldiers urged him to get the job done.


    "WHAT ARE YOU WAITING FOR? KILL IT! QUICK! BEFORE IT EVOLVES!"


    "Captain ¨C we''ve got to step in!" Tolsey said urgently. He knew just how dangerous these Evolved Horned Goblins could be.


    "Mm," the Captain noted. "It seems the boy has seen this evolution process before. He knows to wait, despite the opportunity to kill."


    Tolsey looked up in surprise. "It''s right to wait? Why?" He hadn''t dealt with many monsters in the midst of evolving before.


    "Once the evolution has begun, there''s no stopping it, not even through taking the creature''s life," Lombard said calmly.


    A roar echoed throughout the trees, as the Horned Goblin endured its evolution. Its noise sounded halfway between pain and halfway between ecstasy. But the evolution clearly did notst as long as it had hoped, for the liquid rippling of its flesh soon calmed down, and what was left was merely a stout-looking Horne Goblin, half-evolved, just as Beam had seen in his meat cave before.


    The creatureined in disappointment, but it made sense to Beam ¨C it hadn''t eaten nearly enough flesh, after all. A measly two organs wouldn''t be enough to send it all the way towards the domain of Hobgoblin.


    Still, the creature was menacing enough in its own right now. It was like a green dwarf, in both intelligence and in physique. Its roar rippled throughout the clearing, and its anger turned to aggression, as it immediately turned on Beam to attack.


    Arrows came with its call, as the goblin archers from within the trees backed it up, yielding immediately to the higher form of creature.


    Itunched its first attack with an erged fist, as the soldiers called out warnings. But before that fist could even finish its attack, Beam severed the hand from its body, before neatly, and easily beheading it, with movements that could be only described as anticlimactic.


    But that was the true state of Beam''s strength. With no army of monsters to box him in and restrict his movements, a creature of that level of strength posed no problem. Even with arrows in the air ¨C since he could already see where they wereing from and there were only two of them ¨C the oue didn''t change.


    The Horned Goblin looked as surprised as anyone, as it realized that its head had been separated from its body. It nced towards Beam in fear, before the light faded from its eyes and it died.


    "Now to hunt those archers," Beam said to himself, twirling his sword in his hands. He moved towards the trees.


    "Hold the defensive line, boy," Lombard called out to him. "Our own archers can snuff out the likes of those bowmen."


    At his swords, several men ran over from their squadrons, and picked up the bows that wereying a short distance away. They each notched an arrow, as a sergeantmanded them, looking towards the trees, trying to find their location.


    His eyes must have been better than Beam''s, for he soon spotted it, despite the distance they were away. "Middle of thatrge fir tree, on the thick branch," he said. "Aim ¨C no, not that fir there Sorsam, to your left a bit. Aye, there you go ¨C draw. Loose!"


    A cloud of arrows swam towards the trees. A momentter, Beam heard a scream, followed by a loud thumping sound, as the body of a Horned Goblin hit the floor of the trees.


    "Now you can go and collect the body," Lombard told him. "Now that our defensive line has been re-established." Even from a distance away, with Lombard just speaking levely, Beam could hear his every word, and he nodded, dashing towards the trees, just in time to see the sergeant giving moremands to his men, and sending out another cloud of arrows.


    They too found their mark, and like a hunting dog, Beam found the kills on the floor with arrows in various parts of their bodies. Impressively, more than two arrows had found their mark on each one.

 Chapter 221: Distrust - Part 13

    Beam grabbed them and slung them over his shoulder, before jogging back to the front line, and throwing them towards the fire.


    The men were already moving the other kills that he had made, with cheerful expressions, and sounds of jubtion.


    "If I''d had to do another battle with a Gorebeast, I would have killed myself long before it got to me, I tell ya," one of them said. "Too tired for this kind of work. But shifting bodies? I''m all in."


    Another one pointed out the presence of Judas. "Look at him. He''s easily shifting three bodies by himself. The Captain might seem cold at times, but he cares for us, he does. He''s lessened the burden on our shoulders in one fell swoop."


    As Tolsey listened, he couldn''t help but nod in agreement, though it was a hesitant nod, filled with uneasiness, as he struggled to process just what he''d seen. With a wave of his hand, Lombard called Beam over. He''d wiped that shallow smile from his lips and reced it with his usualmanding expression.


    Though, even though his face seemed indifferent, his words were not. "Good work, boy," he said. Rare words of praise from the Captain that merely expected things to be done, and only acknowledged theirpetition. He rarelyplimented work, for his workers rarely exceeded his expectations.


    Tolsey couldn''t help but feel a little jealous at that, even being a thirty-year-old man as he was. It made him feel silly to think about it. But he''d joined the Captain''s squadron for a reason. He admired the man. Even amongst all the troops that fought upon the Eastern front, his name was still spoken loudly and often.


    "Was that it, then?" Beam asked. "Good enough for demonstrating my worth?"


    Tolsey was amazed by howposed the boy seemed, despite having fought such a seemingly intense battle. His breathing hardly seemed to be out of control either, even as blood coated his clothes. He couldn''t help but think: is this really a boy of the Second Boundary? He seemed far stronger than that.


    "Indeed, you have proved your worth," Lombard said. "I can see by the look in your eyes that you''re expecting reassurance that I will fulfil my end of the agreement ¨C and indeed I will. You''ll be privy to information that I would otherwise not share. After today, it makes sense that you would form a key position in our defence, after all."


    Beam nodded, apparently satisfied with that.


    Lombard continued. "Due to the frequency and the scale of the continued monster attacks, we''ve been unable to set up defences on the forest''s edge, as we have elsewhere. We''ve never had enough leeway to get any building work done."


    "So you want me to hold off the monsters while building work is taking ce?" Beam guessed, rather impetuously. Tolsey still couldn''t get used to the way that he spoke to the captain. Even a noble such as himself wouldvish him with a much higher degree of respect than that ¨C and these words were insteading from a peasant. "I can deal with the enemy, the problem is what makes it past me.


    I''m not confident none will."


    Lombard nodded with that assessment. "You have the wits to match your skill inbat," he noted quietly. "I had hoped you would be able to match the work of 4 or 5 squadrons by your lonesome. A high expectation, to be sure. But you surpassed thatpletely. I could confidently leave the entire defence of the forest border in your hands, if such a thing was necessary."


    Hearing that, Tolsey was about to protest, but before he could, Lobmard had already raised a hand to quiet him.


    "However, one must not push a sword towards its breaking point, and there is no need to stretch you so thin. Two squadrons should be enough to assist you, with them ying a more defensive role to minimize injury. We''ll begin on building work immediately with those numbers," Lombard said.


    "That seems fine to me," Beam said. "How long are you wanting me to defend for?"


    "If you could cover it from dawn until dusk, that would be significant," Lombard said lightly, as though it was a simple request. Even though the days were shorter now, and dawn until dusk was only a period of eight or nine hours at most, Tolsey couldn''t support putting that entire shift on the shoulders of just a single boy ¨C even the soldiers themselves switched every few hours.


    "Captain ¨C I have to object. Leaving such an important duty to an outsider is too much. Besides, he might be strong, but that''s such an impossible workload. Surely we''re only inviting disaster by doing that?" Tolsey said, looking towards Beam for support, as though he supposed the peasant might agree with him.


    But the boy merely shrugged. "I do not mind doing it. It will be good training, after all. If I can have your help in dealing with these shadows, and ridding the forest of monsters for good, that would make my time well spent."


    "And you will have it," Lombard said. "We find ourmon cause there. Though I am hesitant to spend so much manpower dealing with another threat besides the Yarmdon, we are being forced to, regardless of whether we want to or not. We''ve taken significant casualties, Tolsey. If the Yarmdon were to attack now, I am not confident we wouldst."


    "But surely¡­ Surely with you and I?" Tolsey murmured.


    "Just because I am of the Third and you of the Second? The Yarmdon have their own paths to strength, their own Gods that they pray to. They are no weaker than ours. In fact, the average Yarmdon man might be stronger," Lombard said gravely. "You have only been on the front lines for a little over a year, and even then, we have not seen significantbat together.


    I''d ask that you trust more in my judgement."

 Chapter 222: The Ingolsol Festival - Part 1

    Having it put to him like that, Tolsey couldn''t help but blush in embarrassment. His intention hadn''t been to undermine all the Captain''s years of experience, after all.


    "Or maybe it is the boy that you have qualms with? Leaving such a duty to a peasant, after all?" Lombard mused, a touch of sympathy in his voice.


    Slowly, Tolsey nodded. "It just seems too sudden ¨C and it goes against much of what we are taught. You''re almost giving him the freedom of an officer, despite him being a member of the peasantry. He''s sworn no vows of loyalty, he isn''t even enlisted amongst the troops."


    Realizing that what he said sounded harsh, he turned to Beam to apologize. "I''m sorry for saying it in front of you, boy¡­"


    Beam shrugged. "I don''t mind. It makes sense for you nobles to care more about that than the rest of us."


    It took a great effort for Tolsey to point out it was only Beam who seemed not to care ¨C everyone else they came in contact with followed the due social procedures, whilst remaining hyper-conscious of their rank.


    "A vow of loyalty, hm?" Lombard murmured, his expression darkening. "I do not believe they are worth all that much."


    With that darkened tone, Tolsey nearly shuddered. He decided to nod grimly, and trust in his Captain''s judgement. "I will do as you say, captain, and hope that I might learn something from this experience."


    The Captain merely nodded, leaving the conversation at that. He called out to the sergeants that were still on duty.


    "Take your men and rest. Bring two squadrons worth of men to take your ce. The boy will be taking care of the front line until dusk," the Captain said.


    Cheers erupted from the men. Their shift had been cut short, and even during the shift, their workload had been greatly lessened. There were more than a few shocked exnations when they heard that the Captain only intended to put two squadrons on duty, but that quickly gave way to celebration, as they realized that their own turns to take a shift would now be even further into the future.


    If they were lucky, they might even be able to get three days'' rest. There was much excitement to be met with such a prospect. At the start of the day, their morale had been at an all-time low, as they watched theirrades grow increasingly injured, and they had to fight increasingly often to make up for theck of numbers, with increasingly shorter times to rest.


    Now, their Captain had turned that situation aroundpletely for them. They did not care whether it was a peasant that brought that relief or not. To them, he was merely a weapon of war, and they praised him for it.


    "Thank the Gods for that little monster!" They shouted, as they skipped back towards their tents.


    Judas attempted to go with them, rolling his shoulders, as though to rx himself after a hard day of work.


    "Where are you going?" Lombard called out when he saw him walking away.


    "Ah¡­" Judas froze. Usually, he might have had a dry-cut response prepared, as he tried to worm his way out of whatever duty was about to be foisted upon him. But against nobility, like every peasant should, he trembled, knowing they could easily cut him down for the slightest transgression.


    "Your shift has barely begun. You will assist the boy and join one of these two squadrons. The fighting will be minimal ¨C but even you seem more than capable of shifting a few corpses, no?" Lombard said icily.


    "Yes, sir¡­" Judas said with a grimace, trudging unhappily towards Beam''s side.


    "Fighting these monsters is fuckin'' terrifying," Judas muttered in his ear once he was there. "I don''t know what they''ve been putting in the water, but even just normal goblins used to be bad enough, now we''ve got these fuckin'' hell beasts. Got to say ¨C thank the Gods you''re here, so I don''t have to be dealing with all that myself."


    "Well, it is partly my fault for dragging you into this," Beam said, a little more sympathetically than he normally would. He usually wasn''t opposed to giving Judas more work to do, but after that morning''s antics, he was beginning to feel a twinge of guilt that he''d got the man wrapped up in all this, even if it seemed to be for the greater good.


    "As long as you keep me alive, I''ll forgive ya," Judas said with a grin.


    Beam walked through the campsite, as the sunset on the distant horizon, and the world grew darker.


    Several fires were already lit, and soldiers were gathered around, sharing drink ¨C they were allowed a small amount of alcohol, depending on when their next shift was due ¨C and hot soup, and roasted meat.


    The mood about the camp was far more positive than it had been a few days ago.


    "They were meant to be spending their winter back in Ernest, with the wives and families ¨C a brief reprieve from the war. Instead, they got drafted here, to deal with the Yarmdon threat," Tolsey exined to him, as they walked through the camp together. "They were rowdy from that, as might be expected, but they''ve calmed down a good deal since you''ve been taking on so much work."


    He looked sympathetic as he noted the amount of work Beam was doing. Again, Beam finished the day drenched in blood and filth. It was his second full day of work with the army, and the monsters had shown no signs of slowing.


    "How is the work? Are you managing alright? It should be catching up to you by now, no?" Tolsey pressed.


    Beam shrugged. "I''m sleeping well enough, and eating well enough. The work isn''t too gruelling."


    When he said that, he meant it. It wasn''t too different to how he would have normally spent his days training and patrolling. In fact, it might have even been easier, for there were often brief reprieves in between each wave of monsters, enough time to catch his breath and calm himself, and think of new ideas that he might want to try.

 Chapter 223: The Ingolsol Festival - Part 2

    Tolsey shook his head, exasperated. "I fear for you, boy. I don''t know what you and the Captain are thinking, but there''s no man about this camp that could do such work for days on end and not have it get to him. Now that you''re working with us, even if the Captain does not press you on it, I''d appreciate it if you kept a check on your limits.


    Else, when you reach your breaking point, we won''t have the men prepared to take your ce."


    As Tolsey talked, Beam was only half listening to him. Tolsey had told him much the same thing the day before, after all. He figured the best way to teach the man that he was fine was merely to continue to show him.


    The Vice-Captain seemed to think that they shared simr limits, since they were both of the Second Boundary, but Lombard had pointed out more than once that the significance of a boundary break varied from one person to the next, meaning a Second Boundary man might be even as strong as a Third Boundary man, in particrly rare circumstances.


    As they walked, soldiers called out to them.


    "Haha! Fine work again today, Mountain yer! Just a nce at all that filth on ya, and you can see if you''ve only gone and in half the bloody forest again!" One particrly friendly sergeant called out to him. They''d worked a shift together the day prior, and the man had continually remarked just how easy things were with Beam on the front lines.


    The two squadrons that were in reserve had far less work to do than they normally might. It was usually bows they kept in their hands rather than spears, assisting Beam with his kills from afar. In truth, merely that added support of arrows raining down in assistance made a world of difference to Beam.


    It helped him avoid the deadlocks that he often fell into when confronting arge group of enemies, and it made his misdirection training all the more powerful, for his enemies had multiple threats they had to take care of.


    "Mountain yer!" Another soldier joined in, raising a toast to his name. "May more little monsters of his likee crawling down from those bastard ck Mountains, so we can be cleared of night shift as well."


    Laughter met his words. Tolsey grimaced, half expecting Beam to grow angry at the particrly gruff remarks. There was respect there, certainly ¨C a respect of his skill. But there was also a distinctck of caution, for all of them knew him to be a peasant.


    But Beam would merely smile at their manner. He found he didn''t mind it. He saw these soldiers about the camp, and on the battlefront as almost different people to those that he had seen about the vige.


    In the vige, there was a clear dividing line between rank, and the soldiers were incapable of holding back their want to demonstrate that fact. But here, there was a higher degree of camaraderie. All that truly mattered was holding the enemy back, and the respect that came with being capable of achieving that transcended social rank.


    Of course, there were still some that weren''t particrly fond of Beam''s presence. They acknowledged the work he did, and were pleased for it, but they didn''t think he should be treated so well ¨C with a tent of his own, and food from the army''s supplies.


    These were the same men that Beam had quarrelled with the other day, but nothing had yet toe of their prickliness, and so Beam merely ignored them.


    "Ah! There he is ¨C I told you I''d find him. Got a sixth sense for thed by this point, I do," Judas said, rounding a corner in the row of tents, stumbling upon Beam and Tolsey as they walked.


    Judas'' shifts weren''t quite as aggressive as Beam''s. He tended to do the same shifts as the soldiers, whilst also helping with building work. He had less rest than the other soldiers might, but he still wasn''t pushed quite past his limits, as Lombard sought to make proper use of that strength of his.


    A few soldiers were trailing behind Judas, as he loudly called them over. All of them had drinks in their hands, and their faces were flushed.


    Tolsey frowned upon seeing them. "Have you men not exceeded your drink ration?"


    "¡­No," One man said, but there was a drunken pause before he admitted to, which made him seem all the more suspicious.


    "Hah¡­ No more drinks for the rest of the evening," Tolsey said. It was hardly a punishment ¨C they''d already exceeded the ration after all.


    At that light-hearted decree, the men saluted with a jovial "sir!" and then went right back to grinning.


    "So?" Beam asked. "What were you looking for me for?"


    Judas shrugged. He was as drunk as them. Somehow the man had a talent for fitting in amongst the soldiers. Arge proportion of them were thoroughly fond of the man, despite his rank. "Just wanted to see how ya getting on, y''know. They figured you''d be wounded by now or something, and everyone was worrying about that.


    Not ''cos they''re nice, mind you, but ''cos nobody around here wants to do any work."


    "Not true! We are nice!" Came a drunken response. "You''re one of us now, ain''t that right, boys? We''re just making sure you''re getting on alright. If you''re injured, we figured we''d take you to that prettydy that''s started showing up to tend to the wounded. She might be a peasant, but she''s a looker!"


    "Eh, boys, I wouldn''t¡­" Judas warned.


    "Wah? Why not? The boy''s entitled to a bit of treatment. Some of the boys have started pretending to be sick, just to get her to check up on them. She''s too nice, that''s the problem¡­ Makes me want to get injured as well ¨C not a big injury, mind you. Just a little scratch or something," the soldier continued drunkenly.


    Beam nced at Tolsey. Tolsey understood the look.


    "Careful, gentlemen," he warned. "Anyone troubling that woman will have the Captain''s wrath to deal with." Beam had made them promise as much, after seeing her patiently try to deal with a dozen soldiers acting like children around her the day prior. The Captain had readily agreed. At this point, it seemed that he valued Beam''s work so much that he was liable to agree to anything.

 Chapter 224: The Ingolsol Festival - Part 3

    "Whhaaaat?" The man seemed shocked.


    "Weren''t you listening this morning? Apparently, you''ll getshes of the whip if you go too far," another chipped in.


    "No way! It''s not fair! The Captain''s already got a wife, hasn''t he? Why''s he taking all the good women for himself," the soldier wailed.


    Seeing that they were drunk, and the conversation truly was going nowhere, Tolsey tried to hurry them off.


    "Well, you''ve seen the boy. We both have business to attend to ¨C be on your way," he said, sounding moremanding than he usually might.


    The soldiers saluted, and did as they were ordered, but they were morex than they would have been if the Captain was the one ordering them to move along. Tolsey seemed to notice as much, for he sighed as he watched them go.


    "Shall we be going, then?" He said to Beam, as though he were an equal rather than an underling. Beam didn''tment on it. The Vice-Captain made such slips of tongue regrly, as though his mind struggled to glue together the fact that Beam was a peasant, but also a warrior that eclipsed Tolsey.


    When they arrived at the Captain''s tent, he was hunched over his table, as he often was, staring down at that map of his.


    He did not look up as he heard them enter.


    "The Yarmdon are still missing," he said gravely. "But where could they have gone?" He traced his finger across the map, tapping in various ces, though he did not announce their names aloud. After tapping several ces, his finger slowed, as though realizing that the endeavour was pointless ¨C there were too many possibilities.


    Finally, he looked up. "How goes the northern front, Vice-Captain?" He asked, his tone authoritative. It was enough to make Tolsey straighten up. He stood to attention, and gave his reply with a simr level of formality.


    "No casualties or wounded again today, sir. The defences are proceeding steadily. The trench is at half-depth, and the central line of stakes have been put into position," Tolsey told him.


    The Captain nodded. "And what about the wounded that we have gathered up to this point? How goes their injuries?"


    "Our medics have been able to give them more individual attention, now that there are less mening in. There have also been a few more vige women that have volunteered to help, inspired by Mrs Felder. Three men have been cleared to return to duty, with a further two expected to recover within the week. The others are unlikely to be healed for some time," Tolsey said.


    "Good news and bad," Lombard noted, tapping his map as he twisted his lip. "And then there''s the dead on top of that. They should have been at home by now¡­"


    "Allow me to write the letters to the families of the deceased," Tolsey said, recognizing the burden that had been ced on Lombard''s shoulders. He was well aware that his captain deeply regretted having to bring his men this far east in the midst of winter, after they had already served their time just weeks before.


    But the Captain straightened up at that, as though to reject his concern. "No. As their Captain, it must be done by me. That is the responsibility of leadership, Vice-Captain. To take charge of both the lives and the deaths of your men. One day you will be in such a position yourself ¨C you must see each thing to the end."


    With a grave nod, Tolsey epted his words. Having dealt with Tolsey, the Captain turned his attention to Beam.


    "No wounds?" He asked, his formality loosening. He was well aware that the boy paid no mind to noble talk.


    Beam shook his head. "None. With the assistance of two squadrons of archers, the work is simple enough."


    The Captain nearly smiled at that. His lips curved into a half smile, before something took over, forcing him from going all the way. He merely nodded sternly instead. "It is amusing to hear such ament, when wepare the condition to just a few days prior¡­ That a mere two squadrons could make things ''easy'' seems almost a jest ¨C and yet I have seen your skills, and know it to be true.


    "Well, if you remain rested, then there will be a silver lining to all this, I suppose," the Captain mused, tapping his map. "But the ominous nature of this Yarmdon disappearance¡­ I do not like it. Then there are foes in the mountains that need rooting out. It is hard to consider our defence anything but precarious."


    "¡­Does that mean you''re looking for the counter-attack now, Captain?" Tolsey asked. He''d been aware that was the Captain''s n from the start ¨C to deal with any Yarmdon that were close to them the second the scouts reported them on the map, so that his men might get home sooner, before the winter truly started. That hope had ended up dashed, though.


    "I will need to consider it ¨C as our defences improve on the mountainside, it bes more of an option. Fewer squadrons will be required to hold against the monster attacks with it. Instead of eight, we couldfortably manage the defences with six, even without the boy. That leaves us with room to move. For now, we allow the soldiers to rest, and we await our opportunity," Lombard said resolutely.


    Tolsey nodded seriously. "Understood, Captain."


    "That means you as well, boy ¨C rest," Lombard told him. "You''ve taken on an important position, you understand? Though you may not have anymand over them, you''ve been given the responsibility for many lives. Whether they get to rest or not is entirely down to your own performance, and thus how well you rest."


    "I understand," Beam said with a frown, not particrly appreciating the lecture. He felt like he was doing a fine job at keeping himself healthy.


    "Though I expect you will still want to attend the festival this evening, no?" The Captain said.


    "Ah, is it that already?" Beam said, his voice rising in realization. "It definitely is cold enough for it."

 Chapter 225: The Ingolsol Festival - Part 4

    "Indeed ¨C the festival of the winter solstice. That Elder of yours is meant to be conducting a ceremony on the outskirts of the vige to wee winter in. The Vice-Captain and I have been asked to attend. It will be a good opportunity for you, no? I imagine you have not spoken much with your fellow vigers in thest couple of days," Lombard said.


    "That merchant in particr has been asking after you. Though, he is currently bearing the weight of a likely involvement in murder. Three men seem to have been in by his underlings. As soon as the prostitutes were barred from the campgrounds, the ying stopped. Odd, is it not?"


    Lombard said that testingly, as though to evoke a reaction from Beam. Tolsey noted that the Captain was looking towards him carefully as he yed with one of the wooden board pieces in his hand.


    But Beam just shrugged as though it had nothing to do with him. "Greeves isn''t stupid enough to involve himself in such open murder with nothing to gain. But it is unfortunate for him, that all the circumstances point in his direction. It''s just one of the many problems afflicting this vige as ofte.


    Speaking of which, before I meet with N, do you have any information for me, in regard to Stephanie?"


    The Captain paused a moment at that and nced at Tolsey. It seemed he''d put the Vice-Captain in charge of that little endeavour. The man cleared his throat and ran a hand through his beard, ridding himself of the nervousness that had built up.


    "We didn''t find anything in particr that pointed to her ¨C the vigers are reluctant to talk to the soldiers unless forced, after all. But a few days prior, our men found a pair of footprints, leading from the forest, pointing in the direction of the house that you named. Only, these footprints were visible in a single patch of mud, for about three steps.


    It might be entirely unrted," Tolsey said.


    "Ah," Beam''s eyes lit up at that, and he clenched his fist. "So they came from the woods after all. That is good to know."


    The Captain and his Vice-Captain shared a look. "That scrap of information was enough to give you certainty, was it?" Lombard asked.


    "My master mentioned something that made it seem to me like the shadows had something to do with the disappearance of Stephanie. Those footprints seem right to me. n your counterattack, Captain. I need to get back in that forest and get looking again," Beam said.


    "The Yarmdon threat dys my hand there. As do ourcking defences. You will need to wait another few days ¨C or bring me a location. Though it does trouble me that your master would not involve himself directly. Surely this situation you worry so much about would be solved far quicker with his assistance," Lombard said.


    Beam could not disagree there. But Dominus was a strange man. He''d imed that he thought Beam capable of solving this riddle by his lonesome. If things truly did reach a point beyond Beam''s capabilities to handle, he would step in, Beam knew that much at least. He only hoped that by then it would not be toote. It had been too long since Stephanie had disappeared, after all.


    Even though it was still just a few days ¨C each day weighed heavier than thest, on everyone involved. He knew that N and her mother likely would not be able to bear the strain much longer.


    ¡­


    ¡­


    The sky was already the darkest ck by the time the vigers started making their way to the bonfire that had been started on the edge of the vige, just a short distance away from the forest. Because it was so close to the soldier''s defences, they''d need express permission from the Captain in order to set up there.


    There had also needed to be stationed an extra couple of squadrons for the affair ¨C for it was quite possible that some monsters might drift towards them, rather than to the monster lure that had been set up behind the defensive wall.


    Beam arrived with the soldiers, just as the crowd was beginning to thicken. People nced at him, a friendliness in their eyes that they didn''t have before, but there was also a sympathy as well, as though people assumed he was nigh-on a prisoner for the Captain. He returned the greetings of the passersby as best he could, though he was never much of a socialite.


    The fire was built and burning high already, a true bonfire at that, taller than three men, with a wide and stable base to match it. There was the scent of oil in the air, evidence of the firestarter''s cheating ways, as they tried to get the thicker logs to catch fire faster.


    There were quite a fewints from the crowd as more people arrived and noticed that stench.


    "Oh,e on, can''t you light fires without oil anymore? That''szy, that is. The back of my throat is going to be feeling like I''m dying now," one old manined, as others joined in to voice their agreement.


    Hearing theirints, a firestarter ¨C who''d been working on behalf of the vige Elder ¨C rose up a shrill voice in defiance. "It gets the fire hotter faster! The smell will disappear in due time! Stopining!"


    "Aye, by the time we''ve all left it will," came the reply without missing a beat.


    Beam smiled quietly as he listened to the interaction. He''d separated himself from the soldiers by now, as Lombard had told him to. He''d told him to meet up with his vige friends, and ensure them of his well-being. But as Beam stood an awkward distance from the fire, his hand resting on the sword at his hip, and his clothes clean and finer than he was used to ¨C he couldn''t see anyone that he knew.


    There were nearly fifty people there already, with a steady stream of theming down the vige road, lit by torches that every fifth man seemed to carry. It seemed more like a funeral procession than a festival, Beam thought, and the attitudes of everyone in attendance seemed to support that.


    There was a tightness about their face, like people being forced to endure something, as nearly everyoneined about the cold.

 Chapter 226: The Ingolsol Festival - Part 5

    In truth, this was the first year Beam was standing so close to the fire. He''d watched from a distance once before, out of curiosity, but never had he had reason to be involved in the festival itself.


    "Ah, you finally came," an arm threaded round his shoulders, and a sweet scent filled his nostril. It was a familiar sensation ¨C or it had been in the past ¨C of a woman sneaking up behind him.


    "Loriel," he said, tilting his head back to look up at her.


    "The very same," she said, with a sweet smile, as she normally might. But Beam could not deny that her face looked haggard. He could only imagine how bad things had been, with the prostitutes being used of murder.


    She was dressed for the asion, better than anyone else, with dark purple robes drooping over his shoulders, and a fur hat sitting on her head. Somehow, despite not showing any skin, she still managed to appear nearly overwhelmingly feminine.


    Beam trudged along behind her, his face gaunt, as though he hadn''t eaten in days. He was simrly well dressed, with a dark red coat, and a purple cape over his shoulders to match Loriel. "Boy," he said with a nod,ing over to join them.


    "You look like shit," Beam told him.


    Lorielughed heartily at that. Apparently, it was the same line that everyone was thinking, but few around the powerful merchant had the gall to actually say it out loud.


    Greeves nced at her, an irritated frown on his lips. "You like that, do you? He''s still got no respect. A right pain in the arse, that''s what he is."


    "Oh, but isn''t it charming? When everything flows in the same direction, and all the scenes be the same, the jewel that catches the eye bes all the prettier," Loriel said.


    "You been reading poetry or something?" Greevesined. "Wish you could dig up a poem that tells us how to get out of this mess. That Captain of yours said anything to you about me?" He said, tilting his head towards Beam.


    "He mentioned the mess you were in today. I told him it''d be stupid for you to have done it, despite everything pointing towards you. He seems to agree with me," Beam said.


    "Huh?" Greeves'' eyes widened, as though he struggled to process what Beam had said for a second. "Hang on, you spoke up for me? I thought you hated my guts?"


    "See? Isn''t he a rare treasure?" Loriel said, patting Beam''s head, making him feel even younger than he was.


    He brushed her hand away. "You didn''t do it ¨C so why wouldn''t I?"


    That didn''t seem to settle anything for Greeves ¨C the merchant just looked even more confused. "What is this, some kind of honour thing? I don''t get you, boy¡­ Though I suppose things must be as you say ¨C he''s asking me to send the girls to his encampment again tonight, when this is done. Can''t say why, but I''ve got a bad feeling about all this."


    Beam nced to look up at Loriel. She looked simrly grim, despite her best attempts to put a smile on her face.


    "Well, that''s our business. I won''t trouble you with it," Greeves said. "How goes it at the camp? I hear you''ve been making quite a ssh. That works for me, y''know. Seems Lombard thinks me lending him you and Judas is a big favour of sorts ¨C not that I had any control over you in the first ce."


    "It works well enough. I''m getting more information and more options from it," Beam said.


    Greeves grimaced at that, as he scratched the back of his head. "Ah, yeah. Sorry, I wasn''t able to help you more with that. But from the looks of things, you''ve got awork built up yourself already, ain''t ya? That girl of yours has been the talk of the vige with that Captain''s authority that you got her.


    She''s something of a hero now ¨C and the talk of the boy who was standing up to them the day before has been fading into the background."


    He said thatst part with a grin, trying to get a rise out of Beam. But before the boy could even respond, Loriel was already cutting in. "Come on! That''s not true. That cutie N is definitely high up on the poprity charts now, but they definitely haven''t forgotten sweet little Beam," she said, patting his head, as though he was a dog that had done some particrly good work.


    "Yeah yeah, I wish you''d stick up for me like that when that Captain is breathing down my neck," Greevesined. "Come on, we''d better go and speak to him. He''s been ring at me for thest five minutes¡­ I''m not looking forward to this."


    "Me neither¡­" Beam heard Loriel say under her breath, but she quickly returned her smile to her face as she waved goodbye. "Enjoy the festival, Beam! Make sure you''re getting enough sleep ¨C and don''t let these miserable nobles work you too hard!"


    Beam nodded in reply. The crowd had thickened considerably as they spoke, and still, there were yet more vigers walking down the road, their torches lighting the way for them.


    He nced around, to see if there were any familiar faces. He noted that the vige Elder had still not arrived, despite the fact that he was the one meant to be leading this ceremony. Or perhaps it was part of the ceremony that he arrivest? Beam didn''t know.


    He briefly nced at the wooden tform that had been set up beside the fire. It was taller than the ones that had been built to wee the Captain, and narrower too, more like a stand for speaking on than a tform.


    It was set up a short distance away from the fire, close enough that Beam thought it must have been a pretty sensible worry to wonder whether it would catch alight itself or not.


    "What''re you doing, staring off into space?" For the second time in a few short moments, a voice came to attack him while he was distracted. He nced to the side, and saw N smiling up at him, with Mrs Felder behind her, leading David by the hand.


    "I was wondering whether it''d catch fire or not," Beam said.

 Chapter 227: The Ingolsol Festival - Part 6

    "Ah, right. This is your first time doing this, isn''t it? When the ceremony is over, they push the tform into the bonfire as well. Everything burns tonight, or so they say," N told him.


    "That sounds pretty ominous¡­" Beam noted.


    "¡­It does, doesn''t it? Mm, I guess it''s my first time noticing that. It''s just what people say, y''know," N said. "How have things been, anyway? You don''t seem to have any scratches on you, but it''s hard to tell, ''cos you''re always hiding them under your clothes."


    "I wanted to ask much the same question," Mrs Felder said. "You haven''te to me for treatment once in the soldiers'' camp, despite all the work they''re putting on you."


    "They''re working him that hard?" N said, a clear frown on her face.


    "Oh, N!" Mrs Felder said, growing animated. "That''s an understatement! You should see how they look at him ¨C grown, grizzly old soldiers, scary men, they look at little Beam as though he''s some weapon of war. All they talk about is how easy life is now that he''se. How many squadrons he''s taken over for. How many squadrons was it again, Beam?


    Was it four?"


    "Six," Beam said mildly, though in truth, it was technically eight, but Lombard had stationed those two reserve squadrons just to make sure their defences were watertight.


    Both women''s jaws dropped, as they shared a look with each other.


    "BEEEEAAAMMM!" They shouted almost at once, as N grabbed his arm to shake him, and Mrs Felder chopped his head.


    "You can''t let them force so much work on you! What are you, trying to get yourself killed?" Nined.


    "You need to talk with the Captain! That''s far too much! Even if they''re nobles, you can''t let them push you so hard!" Mrs Felder scolded.


    Beam epted that concern with a silent smile, grateful for it. But, just as he''d thought when the Captain warned him of such things, he found their worries unfounded. The amount of work he was given to do wasfortable for him.


    "Still¡­ six squadrons," N said quietly, looking at him in a new light. "I always knew you were strong¡­ But it puts it into a whole different light now that a knight sees how strong you are as well. It''s like¡­ I don''t know? Like you''re already moving forward, you know? To better things¡­"


    "It''s incredible, really," Mrs Felder said, heaving a sigh. "You''ve got a true gift, Beam. But if you don''t show weakness, they will assume you have none, and they''ll onlye to expect more and more from you. You''re far stronger than I ever thought you were ¨C and I knew you were strong! But I''ve also seen you struggle.


    Without knowing how hard you''ve struggled, they won''t know just how cruel they''re being to you."


    "Six squadrons is like thirty men, right?" N pointed out. "They''re giving you the work of thirty men?"


    "That''s exactly what they''re doing," Mrs Felder told her. "The soldiers are getting to rest far more than they were before, and they''re cheerful for it, but all that burden has fallen to Beam here¡­ I can''t fathom it. How can so many grown men be outdone by just a single boy? Aren''t they being a little bit shameless?"


    "I think you''re being hard on them, mother,paring them to Beam," N said sympathetically.


    "I suppose¡­ It just doesn''t sit right with me," she said with a frown. "Are they at least rewarding you properly for all that you''re doing?"


    "They treat me well enough," Beam said. "As long as they''re keeping their promises to keep the peace amongst the vigers, and to protect the vige, then I don''t mind. It''s only for a short period of time after all, maybe two more weeks at most."


    "I guess they are keeping their promise¡­ The Captain''s ''authority'' that he said he gave me ¨C that seems to be working. When the soldiers start causing trouble, I go over there, and they listen to me now, even though it''s just me by myself, with Rodrey and Rodrick, they still listen. So things are more peaceful than they were," N said.


    "People are opening up a little more too¡­ I finally heard something about Stephanie."


    The already cold air seemed to freeze as her name was brought up. As soon as her disappearance was brought back to the surface, the stabbing pain that her family felt was more than obvious. David looked up at his sister, a sullen expression on his face as he held his mother''s hand. Mrs Felder for her part looked towards the floor, and did her best to hide the weakness on her face.


    They''d already heard what N had to say, but it didn''t make it any easier to hear. "An old man told me that he saw someone, just before the light of dawn, as he was tending to his chickens, carrying arge parcel wrapped in cloth. He said he thought he saw it wriggling, but by the time they squinted to get a closer look, they were gone."


    "What did they look like?" Beam pressed, immediately alert, his eyes as focused as they would be in battle. The Felders picked up on his sudden increase in intensity and gulped, but N was a little more used to it than the others, and continued.


    "ck robes, like those shadows you saw in the forest," N said.


    "It wasn''t one of the Elder''s servants?" Beam asked with a frown.


    N shook her head. "Nope. Apparently, the shoulders were broad, and the shadow was big, even for a man. By the way, thank you for that ¨C with the money you lent me, I was able to pay the Elder back, so they''ve stopped bothering us. I will pay you back too though. You lent me 25, so I''ll pay you back 30."


    "Think nothing of it. I''m surprised you managed to raise that much money so quickly. Greeves was as well. He actually seemed kind of angry about it. But this man..? Hm.


    Did they see where he was headed?" Beam said.


    "I won''t be able to make money that quickly again, it''d harm the forest hunting that hard, and I''d be making enemies of everyone¡­ Plus it''s winter, so people wanted loads more meat. The man was heading westward, the old man said," N told him.


    "Westward¡­" Beam repeated thoughtfully.

 Chapter 228: The Ingolsol Festival - Part 7

    "He was sticking to the houses as well, taking care not to be seen, that''s why no one else caught sight of him," N said.


    "That''s roughly in the direction of the vige Elder''s house, is it not?" Beam said thoughtfully. His words were quiet, but they were enough to send a spark through the Felder family as they nced at each other hesitantly.


    "You think so too then?" Mrs Felder asked. "That the Elder seems suspicious?"


    Beam was hesitant to say anything too firmly. "Suspicious, definitely. But we need more than that, and there seem to be far bigger things going on than just one old man. It''s all connected somehow. The murders of the soldiers in the night, the figures in the forest, the monsters, Stephanie''s disappearance¡­ perhaps even the Yarmdon."


    There was a weight to his words that was enough to make them bite their lip. A warning that he did not have to say directly. They all knew, for they could feel it, there were dark omens afoot.


    "On that note, Lombard gave me some information. A scout found a pair of footprints leading from the forest towards your house on the day of Stephanie''s disappearance. So if we assume that the Elder is involved in the initial kidnapping ¨C then he''s also likely to be involved in what''s happening in the forest, which makes this all the more dangerous," Beam said.


    Now, increasingly, he was d to have Lombard on his side. The knight seemed willing to make moves to assist Beam''s cause, as long as it favoured Lombard himself. Towards that end, Beam was sure, if he could provide enough evidence, then the Captain would move with him, and provide the assistance that he needed.


    N shivered. Beam couldn''t tell whether it was from the cold or not ¨C though it was especially cold. "We''re slowly getting the information we need¡­ It''s working," she said quietly. "We''ll find her, won''t we Beam?"


    It was a question spoken by one person, but asked by three. Even David was looking towards Beam for reassurance. Beam trusted in his master''s words, and his reassurance that Stephanie was still alive. Thus, he was able to respond resolutely, perhaps foolishly so. "We will."


    Mrs Felder nodded gratefully at his reassurance. "Thank you, Beam," she said again.


    As their conversation came to a natural pause, their attention drifted back towards the vige road, as they watched thest dregs of people march down it, carrying their torches, sharing quiet conversation with each other.


    The sky was cloudy up above. asionally, the clouds would shift such that a glimpse of moon or even star might be caught, but for the most part, it was a sullen and unbroken darkness, fended off only by the fire that raged beside them.


    Men continued to tend to the mes, building it up, all the whileining that the oil had done their job for them, and that there was no need for such things. The fire lighter continued to defend himself, his voice cracking as he did.


    "I''m fed up with this! You lot light it again next year, then, if all you''re going to do isin!"


    People wouldugh at his words as he said them. But it was a quietughter, a nervousughter, as though they knew on this night, as their breath misted up in front of them, and their hands were too cold to remain for long out of their sleeves, that tonight was different. It was not a night that they could truly be happy on.


    Beam thought he understood that. After all, the winter solstice marked the shortest day of the year, and it marked a hard season of cold up ahead. A time of much struggle for the vigers, of much suffering, a time that would often seem to stretch on for far too long before spring finally began.


    As they waited for the arrival of the vige Elder, soft kes of white began to slowly fall from the sky. Beam saw the first of whichnd on David''s dark brown hair. The boy clumsily reached up a hand to pat at it.


    "Cold," he murmured. His murmurings were enough to bring his sister''s attention to the sky.


    She gave a gentle smile as she held out her hand to catch a ke. "It''s cold, but it''s so pretty. Looks like the snow has begun for the year," she said.


    More of the vigers began to notice the snow as it slowly drifted down from the sky, and soon began the murmurings of discontent, as they fought to get closer to the fire, and cursed the vige Elder for not being faster.


    "He''s making nobility wait! Even for a festival, isn''t that a bit much?"


    There were continued nervous nces towards Lombard and Tolsley ¨C by now even the Vice-Captain was bing a familiar face amongst them, and they were aware that he too was nobility.


    But neither Tolsey nor Lombard showed any discontent on their faces. Greeves and Loriel stood beside them. Greeves would make the asional remark to try and break the awkward silence, but Lombard would respond with a single word without even looking at him. Beam imagined the air likely felt even colder where they were.


    Beam was dressed in a single long-sleeved shirt, with a vest underneath, the type of thing that he''d usually fight in. He realized that he''d made a mistake by not bringing his coat, as he felt himself shiver.


    But before N could point out that he should have worn a coat ¨C for she''d noticed him shivering and sighed ¨C a small collection of torches began to make their way down the vige road, illuminating the procession of the vige Elder, his two serving girls, and three new child ves that they had acquired.


    The serving girls ¨C One and Two ¨C were dressed as they always were, in gloomy ck clothing, with ck dresses, and thin robes over the top. Beam noted the simrity in the way they dressed and the way the shadows dressed.

 Chapter 229: The Ingolsol Festival - Part 8

    The only difference was, for the shadows, their robes were their whole identity. It covered every inch of their body. Beam had not even been able to see whether they wore shoes or not. Nor had he been able to see their faces. They had drifted across the earth like phantoms. The memory was enough to give Beam chills by itself.


    Merely on appearance alone, he could not deduce that the Elder was indeed involved. But he could not shake that terrible feeling of foreboding he saw when he looked at the man. He studied him closely now, as he walked. He lumbered along, with that staff of his, making a show of his slow movements, every step seeming to take all his strength.


    But as he looked more closely now, Beam thought his movements to be exaggerated, to the point of unnatural. He found himself thinking that the Elder was surely fitter than he made himself appear.


    He had a silver chain hanging over his neck, and loose-fitting dark grey robes, more like what a priest would wear. Perhaps it was fitting then, that he would be the one to lead this ceremony.


    The children came behind him, each of them carrying a small box. They had sombre expressions on their face, struggling to hide theirck of heart. Beam''s heart ached to see it. He wondered if he''d looked the same, back when he had first been enved.


    He looked to check Lombard''s reaction, wondering if the nobility would have anything to say about these children, with silver cors around their neck, mimicking that of their master. But the Captain seemed unmoved. He barely even nced in their direction.


    As the vige Elder drew nearer, Beam could make out humminging from the party of people. The crowd heard it too ¨C and they soon quietened.


    It was a steady hum. Hummmm¡­ Hum¡­ Hummmm. One long drawn-out hum, followed by a short hum, followed by a long one again. It seemed ominous. Whereas a long hum seemed more meditative to Beam, the inclusion of the short one made it feel more like a battle cry. It provoked nervousness in him.


    He saw the hairs on his arm stick up. He wasn''t sure if it was the cold giving him those goosebumps.


    The children, the Elder, those ominous servants of his, they all hummed their eerie song, drawing ever closer, with slow and deliberate steps. The crowd parted silently to let them through. Some even joined in the humming, as though hypnotised, but most simply remained quiet, watching the affair with wary eyes.


    The vige Elder ascended the steps of his tform once he was close enough. Beam noted that the old man had no trouble with the steepness of those steps, despite that act of weakness that he put on.


    With his tform being as small as it was, his servants gathered around it, with the children in the middle, holding their parcels, and One and Two at either side of them, as if to guard them.


    The Elder tapped his cane three times for silence, though the crowd had already gone silent long ago.


    "Winter has arrived," he dered, matter-of-factly, not in the tone one would usually expect from a speech, but more simr to a man staring into the mes of a fire,te into the evening, talking to himself. Indeed, it seemed as though that was what he was doing ¨C as though the Elder was merely talking to himself, and they had the misfortune of overhearing.


    "We had been bathing in the light of the summer months for too long ¨C nowes again the time for the world to return to the darkness, for us to pay what we owe, for us to be subservient to that which is above us, so that we might reach for greater light," the Elder said.


    Beam thought his words to be odd, but as he nced around, he saw no reaction from the vigers. Their heads were lowered respectfully, like they were praying.


    "The Dark Gods that we fear, it is they that own these winter months, where udia''s reach does not extend. It is they that govern how harsh the winter snows will be, how many of our children will die before spring. And it is to them that we must beg for mercy, that we must offer sacrifice to, in the hopes that they will spare us the harshest of treatment."


    "There are many Dark Gods that wander through these winter months, but we, the weakest, the old and the infirm, we dare to take our chances with the strongest of them. We call upon the Master of Despair, the King of Darkness, his Dark Lord Ingolsol, ruler of the Seven Nights. We pray that you do ept our sacrifices," the Elder intoned.


    At the mention of Ingolol''s name, Beam looked around in rm, almost assured that such a thing wasn''t normal. But it was only the nobility who looked the slightest bit off-put. Lombard was wearing a heavy frown as he red at the Elder, whilst Tolsey looked white as a ghost, as he was ncing at Lombard in the same way that Beam was stealing looks at everyone else.


    "What is it, Beam?" N whispered to him, just quietly enough that only he could hear.


    "Ingolsol ¨C praying to him ¨C is that normal?" He inquired.


    N tilted her head. "Is it not normal elsewhere? We''ve prayed to Ingolsol for as long as I can remember. He''s one of the few Dark Gods capable of affecting the physical world directly, right?"


    Beam said nothing. It didn''t feel right to him, but yet the ceremony continued, with no one but him and the nobility feeling that something was even the slightest bit off.


    "Sacrifice," the vige Elder said once more.


    At the repetition of his word, one of the Elder''s serving girls ¨C Beam couldn''t tell whether it was One or Two ¨C jabbed a little boy in the arm, indicating that he should start moving. He looked up at her slowly, a confused and dazed look. But after a moment, he seemed to understand, for he unwrapped his package, and revealed a wooden box.

 Chapter 230: The Ingolsol Festival - Part 9

    He held the box up over his head ceremoniously, so that the crowd could see. Then he brought it back down again, flicked open its lid, and withdrew its contents. The serving girl took the box from him, and he raised what he''d retrieved up over his head once more.


    "The heart of a prize bull ¨C seized before it could mate and we could make use of its offspring," the Elder dered. A droplet of clotted blood dripped from one of the heart''s open arteries, catching the boy in the face. It pped against his forehead with a dull sound, and began to slide down his cheek.


    Not a thing was said from the crowd, as the boy stood there, his face ghostly pale, and his eyes unfocused from nausea. The Elder eventually reached down from his tform to pluck the sacrifice from the boy''s hands, before he once more held it up for the crowd to admire, and he tossed it onto the bonfire to burn.


    As soon as that first sacrifice hit the mes, Beam could feel a change in the air. He looked up in rm, not quite sure what he was looking up for. His fingers reached for his sword. ''What was that?'' he thought to himself. Something had happened. But it was as though he was the only one who could feel it.


    It was like the night had suddenly gotten darker. Apanied by it, there was this awful ache beginning to rise up in his heart. He grasped at his chest.


    "Sacrifice," the Elder said once more. And once more, a child stepped forward. A little girl this time, looking just as pale as the boy before her. She opened up her box, and held her sacrifice high above her head.


    "The brain of amb taken before its meat could mature," he dered. Once more clotted blood ran down the girl''s forearm, and she was forced to endure until the Elder took the brain off her and threw it into the mes.


    Another wave passed through the air. A wave that Beam could only describe as darkness. He looked at the sky. It didn''t seem to be getting any darker, but it certainly felt much darker than it had before. What was this terrible foreboding that he felt? He nced around, struggling to retain his cool.


    Why was no one else reacting? What was this terrible wrongness?


    He saw Lombard ncing at the sky as well. The Captain''s eyes met his. Beam was sure, in that moment, that he should have been feeling it too.


    "Sacrifice," the Elder said once again. "The feet of a prized rooster, left to suffer in its death."


    Once more the meat was added to the fire, and once more the darkness amplified. He felt it strongly in his chest now, as though there was oil in his heart, and someone had lit fire to it. The air was thick with darkness. It felt hard to breathe it. And yet the ceremony continued, with the vigers oblivious.


    "The lesser sacrifices have now concluded," the Elder dered. "Ingolsol now walks among us! We have his attention, now we must dere our loyalty."


    He reached down and pulled up a package of his own. Beam had no idea where on the tform he''d been hiding it, for it was a huge thing. About the size of a child. In fact, wrapped in ck cloth as it was, that was exactly what it looked like the body of a child, wrapped before cremation.


    "The effigy of the child," the Elder dered, before tossing it onto the mes.


    Beam felt a hand grasp his, as N reached for him in rm. "Beam¡­" she murmured, her eyes looking to his, desperately. With their suspicions against the Elder, knowing what they thought they did, he imagined that this symbolic sacrifice of the child seemed a lot different now, given the circumstances. Even if it happened every year, it was impossible to set from the mind just how eerie it was.


    With it being a supposedly symbolic sacrifice, Beam had expected it to be wood. But It certainly did not sound like wood, or look like wood, as it was tossed in those mes. The wrapped bundle folded, distinctly like flesh. Beam could only hope that it was the meat of an animal, rather than the body of a child.


    "It can''t be," he reassured her, shaking his head, squeezing her hand back, but even he wasn''t sure.


    All at once, that weighted darkness in the air thickened, even more suddenly than it had before. Beam shivered. He was struck by the distinct feeling of being put in a cage. A cage that he couldn''t see the limits of, but a cage that he felt nheless.


    His heart was on fire now. He could even swear that he could hearughter now too. A deep and throatyughter, tinged by madness. He looked to Lombard once more, his eyes searching. The Captain''s hand was on the hilt of his sword, as though in debate, but as of yet, he was not moving. He could not move ¨C for like Beam, he knew too little.


    "The symbolic sacrifice of the child, for those that the cold of winter will im, we hope that these symbolic sacrifices will appease you instead, o'' Dark Lord Ingolsol," the Elder said once again, before throwing a different wrapped bundle onto the fire, this one slightly different in size than the rest, just as they would be had they truly been children''s bodies.


    Beam could feel N''s nails digging into his hands, as she fought to restrain herself. She seemed convinced that her fears were entirely irrational, and that she was merely seeing things that weren''t there. Her mother wasn''t reacting, after all. For she''d seen this festival many times before ¨C it had lost its effect on her.


    Fighting to keep himself calm, even as the pressure within himself continued to boil with every new load that Ingolsol put onto the fire, Beam did his best to reassure her, as he squeezed his hand back. "It''s not Stephanie. We will find her," he said, as much for his sake as hers, as he fought to keep his mind on something.


    And then the Elder threw the final symbolic sacrifice onto the fire, dering it again for Ingolsol.


    The mes shed and expanded, as though someone had poured oil on them. Theughter was even louder now, so much louder. It was no longer in Beams'' head, but across the sky, and distant, like the groaning of thunder.

 Chapter 231: The Ingolsol Festival - Part 10

    By now, other people were looking up too, and there were murmurs through the crowd. They must have heard it too.


    "The delight of Ingolsol! He hears our offerings!" The Elder dered, rushing to finish the ceremony, as the mes began to expand to his tform. "May the Dark Lord grant us mercy this winter! May he be satisfied with our offerings, and protect us from the lesser Dark Gods that would seek to toy with his loyal servants."


    With those final words, the Elder all but jumped from his tform, as the wood cracked on one side beneath the mes, and he hurried away, less gracefully than he had arrived, and his followers settled in behind them.


    Once they were a little distance away from the mes, their speed slowed somewhat, and they began to hum once more, returning to that air of ceremony, even as they began to panic.


    The vigers were still murmuring to themselves as he left. They seemed to have abandoned the air of respect that they were putting on before. It seemed to Beam like the ceremony was well and truly over, and when Mrs Felder spoke to him, it all but confirmed it.


    "My, did you two hear that at the end? It sounded an awful lot likeughter to me. I wonder what it could have been?" She said, tilting her head to the side. "Are you well, Beam? You''ve gone rather pale¡­ Ah, the cold must be getting to you. You need to remember your coat in future."


    It was then that she seemed to notice N''s hand clutching his. She gave a knowing nod and smiled quietly to herself. N and Beam were too distracted to notice the look. They were still shivering, staring towards that fire, hoping that what they saw was not as they thought it was.


    "I''ll go on ahead and take David home ¨C he''s getting cold too," Mrs Felder said, making an excuse to leave the two of them alone. "Make sure to get your rest in, Beam. I''ll see youter, N."


    "Okay¡­" N said absentmindedly, as she disappeared from sight. "That was¡­ It wasn''t just me that thought that was weird, right? But it can''t have been, can it, Beam?"


    Beam shook his head. "It can''t have been," he agreed. "This ritual, it still unsettles me," he said, his free hand still clutching at his heart.


    The pain still had not yet calmed down. Something had unsettled the bnce in his soul. He could feel the darkness in him rampaging, as though drawn by something. It was a horrifying feeling. As though the very entity that was Beam was being torn in two.


    "You really don''t look well," N noted. Seeing how Beam had reacted to the ceremony only made her worry more. He saw things that others didn''t see, after all. He walked a path that others didn''t think to walk. She trusted his judgement more than most, even if he wasn''t putting just what he feared into words. "That at the end there, was that reallyughter?"


    Beam shook his head, not out of disagreement, but out of a fear of agreement. "Something''sing, N. Something terrible. I feel as though a cage of darkness has been ced around us."


    At his words, N shivered, despite how warmly she had dressed. The snow fell quietly down around them, as the vigers slowly made their way back to their home, guided by the light of the torches.


    The snow had begun toy in a thinyer on the ground, and their footprints left impressions for all to see. What a convenience it would have been had it snowed a few days earlier. Perhaps then, Stephanie would not have disappeared.


    "We''ll be alright, won''t we?" She dared to ask. But as soon as the words left her lips, she felt a pang of pain in her stomach, realizing just what a weight her question was putting on Beam, just what she was asking. She hated herself for that. That even when his eyes showed a fear that they never did, still she tried to lean on him.


    She hurried to correct herself. "Whatever happens ¨C I''ll help you. Just say the word. I''ve been building things up, like you said to. There''s a whole vige behind us now. Everyone will be willing to help, if they know what they need to do."


    "I suppose then, we need to figure out what it is we need to do," Beam said quietly. His voice sounded so quiet and small then, as he gazed off into the distance.


    Seeing him look so defeated, N feltpelled to reach out to him. Even with his hand in hers, it didn''t seem to be enough ¨C for it was he that wasforting her then, just as it always was.


    Catching him off guard, she pulled him into a hug.


    He made a noise that sounded like a question, an exnation of surprise.


    She was too tired to exin herself. "Just ept it, stupid," she told him, as she rested her head against his chest, and threaded her arms around him. His body felt so cold. He really needed a coat, she thought, not for the first time that evening.


    His arms carefully wrapped themselves around her back as well, and he patted her head for a moment. "Thanks," he said quietly. She didn''t respond.


    After a few minutes like that, as the snow began to hurry down even faster than before, turning Beam''s short hair a fluffy white, they finally separated.


    "You''re going to catch a cold like this," N said as they pulled apart. "Please look after yourself, Beam. Or I''m going to start nagging you even more."


    He gave a wry smile at that. His hand reached towards his heart, now that it was free once more. He found that the pain had stopped.


    N smiled, seeing that, and waved him goodbye.


    "Goodnight, Beam," she said.


    The snow was falling heavily now ¨C enough that it was hard to see more than a few metres away. All the vigers had gone by now. Even Greeves and Loriel had long since left. Only Lombard stood, resolutely, waiting for something. Tolsey was beside him. They were looking intently in Beam''s direction.

 Chapter 232: The Ingolsol Festival - Part 11

    He heaved a sigh, and stepped through the snow towards them.


    "Lombard," Beam said evenly.


    "Boy," the Captain said back. They had merely said a word to each other, but both of them had conveyed their thoughts, their resoluteness. They needed to harden their will against an unknown threat.


    The air stirred between them, and the snow disappeared in a temporary whirlpool. Then there appeared a man who would have preferred to have remained unseen. His straw hat, and his simple clothes were untouched by the snow, as though he had somehow made it all the way here whilst avoiding every drop.


    Tolsey made the mistake of reaching for his sword. Lombard merely stood stoically.


    "Ah. When the boy imed to have a master, I had wondered who it might be," Lombard said. There was a smile on his lips as he said that ¨C a genuinely happy smile.


    "You know my name, but I ask that you do not speak it, Captain," Dominus said.


    "There are few enough already that would know to speak it, and fewer still that would say it with a pleasantness. Would an old ally not earn you some much-needed warmth, o'' scorned knight?" Lombard said, his tone heavy with respect, yet yful.


    "Ally? I suppose we were for a time. I did not peg you for a sentimental man though, Lombard," Dominus said.


    "Sentiment or not, it is hard to forget greatness when one bears witness to it," Lombard said.


    A long sigh escaped Dominus'' lips. "This was why I hesitated to reveal myself to you¡­ You''re one of the few that see far more worth in my abilities than I am deserving of."


    "Arthur saw the same worth in them. How can I presume to know what he did not? I merely followed his gaze, and looked where he was looking," Lombard said.


    Beam looked back and forth between them, almost forgetting the cold. It was odd. Such a peculiar sight. His master was being almost bashful ¨C an emotion that Beam would have assumed was far removed from him. And then there was Lombard, the normally grim and stone-faced leader, who was showering him with such obvious reference that it was ufortable even for Beam.


    "I jest, of course," Lombard said, seeing Dominus fall into silence. "But only to a degree. The kingdom has great need of your power. I was sorry to hear that you had died in the attempted purge of the Pandora Goblin ¨C but here walks a dead man. If you were to head east, the tide of battle would soon turn in our favour. You would save a great many lives."


    "The kingdom needs a king," Dominus said gruffly. "Not the swordsmanship of a near-cripple."


    "Ah, but we do have a king," Lombard said with a smile. "I see you are as outspoken against him as you were in the past. But that is not our ce as nobility. We must merely serve to carry out the orders that we are given. Why not view it as a service to General ckwell, rather than his highness?"


    "I have nothing against that old goat ¨C but I say again, my swordsmanship will be of no use to you. A poison afflicts me, as a residue of that battle. To exert myself would be to perish. My interest now is in the boy ¨C that, and the final boundary that has ever eluded me," Dominus said.


    "You seek the sixth boundary?" Lombard said, his eyes widening. "Is such a thing possible?"


    It was only now that Tolsey was able to follow the conversation. "Captain ¨C who is this man?" He asked desperately, realizing that a warrior of the fifth boundary stood before him. But to his mind, it was only Arthur that had ever reached that pinnacle.


    "I will not speak his name. Know only that a hero stands before you, Vice-Captain, and act ordingly," Lombard said, returning to his usual curtness for a second, before looking at Dominus expectantly, seeking an answer to an earlier question.


    Dominus sighed again. "Aye. I do," he said. "The boy inspired me to chase it again. I made some headway, enough that I thought I might break through, but s, the river of progress seems to flow away from me once more. I doubt that I will make it."


    But for Lombard, it was as though through those self-deprecating words he''d heard something else entirely. "For that to even be an option for a knight as aplished as yourself¡­" he murmured. He spared a nce at Beam. "Yet you attribute that to the boy?"


    "I did," Dominus said. "The little monster has a touch of heroism in him. His burden is great, yet he bears it admirably. It''s enough to excite even someone as jaded as I."


    "To think you, of all people, would take on an apprentice," Lombard said with a shake of his head. "But of course, I should have known ¨C if there was any knight fool enough to apprentice a peasant, it would be you, who scorns even royalty, and earned the scorn of a whole country in return."


    "Such is the way of the fool," Dominus said with a shrug. "And now my foolishness reveals itself once again. It would seem I have overestimated myself. I had begun to hope beyond my station. Even the years have not tempered my wisdom as well as I would have hoped for."


    "I think, if anything, you underestimate yourself," Lombard said thoughtfully. "I for one am inclined to believe you capable of that feat, even if you doubt it yourself. s, why is it that such a rogue like yourself would show yourself to us now? Have you not undone all the hard work you put into remaining hidden?"


    Dominus'' face darkened at that. "A hint of regret, I suppose. I debate whether I should have spent more time training the boy, rather than chasing that lofty illusion of mine¡­ You felt it earlier, did you not? There''s a great darkness approaching."

 Chapter 233: The Ingolsol Festival - Part 12

    "Will you fight?" Lombard asked.


    "I did note here to offer you my sword. When I draw my de from my sheath in earnest, it will be thest battle I ever fight. I still believe in the boy. I merely came here to offer him some leeway ¨C to make his burden a little easier."


    "It''s that bad?" Lombard asked, widening his eyes in surprise. "And yet, you still manage to chase after that Sixth Boundary..? You''re a far greater man than history will give you credit for. I cannot think of a greater shame than that. But s, you are right, you''ve given the boy some room in revealing yourself, I suppose. But for you to trust in him so¡­ I find it strange."


    "Leeway?" Beam frowned. "I don''t get what you mean."


    Dominus flicked his forehead. It was the first flick in a while, and for some reason, it felt vaguely nostalgic rather than painful.


    "You still don''t properly pay attention to the people around you. You''ve done a fine job uniting the vige ¨C well, a fine job for you. Even when you entreated with Lombard, you did not understand him, just as you do not now. The man might be treating you well enough, but in a world where chaos is about to ensue, even the slightest suspicions can be detrimental," Dominus said.


    "Ah. You mean how he didn''t know who my master was, and he was worrying that it could be a mage?" Beam realized.


    "Indeed, I had my doubts," Lombard said. "Especially given the volume of your strength at merely the Second Boundary. It exceeds that of many men in the third. It would have been quite usible ¨C especially with all the strange events that surround you ¨C that your master be a mage, and you yourself not even realize it."


    "However, given the man that stands before me, such concerns are washed away. In one fell swoop, your master made the state of the board far more favourable for you. As an apprentice, you should show the proper respect and thank him for it," Lombard said.


    Beam frowned, but he definitely understood that his master had done him a favour, despite Dominus not entirely wanting to. So he dipped his head and said "thank you, master," with far more sincerity than he had ever spoken to Lombard with.


    Tolsey and Lombard shared a look, as they both noted the difference in tone that he spoke to his master with,pared to how he spoke to them.


    "Don''t do that. He''s a pain enough already," Dominus said, shaking his head. "If you start teaching him how to act like a noble, it''s going to be deeply unsettling."


    "He will have to learn, in time. Or do you intend to shield him from the world, in the same way that you shy away from it," Lombard asked.


    It was Dominus'' turn to frown. "No. The boy''s ce is not in the shadows."


    "Then allow me to teach him in your ce, whilst he is spending his time with me and my men," Lombard said.


    "¡­Do what you want," Dominus said atst.


    Beam saw the smallest of smiles appear on Lombard''s lips, as he nced at him. He shuddered, realizing that the Captain was likely nning to hold that over him for a while.


    "I do not intend to stay long. Give me a moment with the boy before I leave," Dominus said.


    "As you will. But before you go, ser, let me ask you ¨C have you sighted the Yarmdon?"


    "I told Beam this was his battle to fight," Dominus said. "I will not assist you until it is absolutely necessary. Though, I will say this, Captain. Ready your men."


    That was more than enough for Captain Lombard, a veteran of the battlefield of over twenty years. He lowered his head in respectful gratitude, thanking the old warrior for his warning. "Come, Tolsey. Leave them."


    The two disappeared slowly into the falling snow. Beam could see the look of confusion wrought on Tolsey''s face as he left, his mind burning with questions. Once the snow hid them, Dominus spoke.


    "I meant what I said to the Captain," he said. "A danger approaches, of a magnitude even the Captain has likely not seen ¨C or at least, not had to deal with by his lonesome. You did well, allying yourself with him. I was proud to see that."


    "You said before that I won''t be able to fight the Pandora Goblin without allies, after all," Beam said with a smile.


    "It stirred you, did it not? The Ingolsol Festival?" Dominus asked quietly.


    Beam nodded.


    "Then that is a sure sign of the trouble toe. That Dark God is making his presence known. Enough that even the vigers could hear hisugh," Dominus said. "The ritual invited him in."


    "On purpose?" Beam asked, his expression darkening. "Is the Elder truly our enemy?"


    "That is for you to find out, boy. Though I will say this. They have been doing that same ritual for nigh on ten years: what makes this year different? If you manage to answer that, then all these riddles will begin to unravel. But you will need to stay strong through it. Do not let your heart waver ¨C you know the danger that will cause," Dominus warned him.


    "I know," Beam said.


    "Good," Dominus nodded seriously, before sighing once more. "This damnable cold," he murmured. "I suppose I had better go back into the forest, and train. It would not do for me to fall through on my own promises ¨C though I have to scold myself for being fool enough to aim so high."


    "I do not think so, master," Beam said. "You decided to attack the Sixth Boundary because you felt something there, right? Surely there must have been something, then?"


    "Indeed. I was able to progress in ces that I have never been able to progress before. My error was in estimation. I underestimated just how far I would need to go in order to break through. Such is my folly. After near fifty years of training, and I still make the same mistake again," Dominus said.


    Beam had never heard his master sound so defeated. To him, Dominus was a bastion of strength. But then, Dominus had warned him time and time again about the suffering ack of progress would cause, and how to deal with it. In Beam''s own times of struggle, Dominus'' seemed able to rte.


    Perhaps it was simply the destiny of those that chased progress, to continually be at its mercy, and continue to feel that heart-wrenching pain of dashed expectations.

 Chapter 234: Hell Unleashed - Part 1

    "You said progress is a river master," Beam said. "But you also said that even though you can get a sense for its nature, you can never truly understand it. Maybe you''re trying too hard to understand it. Maybe you just need to stop thinking and keep trying."


    Dominus'' eyes widened at the advice. To Beam, he had said one thing, but for Dominus, it had clicked, and ended up meaning something entirely different, something far more profound than what the boy had uttered.


    He nodded his head slowly, and smiled. "Indeed," he said. "Indeed."


    Beam slept for longer than he usually might have. From dawn until dusk ¨C that was when his duty on the frontline of the forest defences began. But though it was dawn in title, it wasn''t true dawn. It ended up being thirty minutes after first light, giving the men waking up for their dawn shift enough time to eat.


    He would usually be up long before first light, but now, as he turned he rose from the floor cot of his borrowed tent, he saw that light was already creeping inside. He yawned, and grabbed his sword from the floor. He moved to step outside, before remembering his coat, and the bitter cold from the previous day.


    He threw it on, despite expecting that he would overheat once the fighting began.


    It was a perfect world of snow outside. He was the first one to break footprints into the patch of snow just outside his tent, and it rose up over the lip of his shallow boots, almost a hand deep. He normally would have smiled at the sight. Though bitterly cold, he liked the snow, and weed itsing every year.


    Yet, on this day, he wasn''t given time to wallow in that enjoyment. He could feel the tension in the air, and he could hear the shouts. The sky had cleared overhead, revealing blue, yet the world still seemed as full of darkness as it was the previous night.


    A pair of soldiers rushed past him, spears in their hands. "Shit, shit! Get moving! It''s all kicking off!" One of them was muttering to himself.


    Beam recalled that Lombard had ordered that Beam''s prostitutes returnst night, for whatever reason. Perhaps he thought that the hostilities between the vigers and the soldiers had died down enough that such a thing was manageable. Or perhaps he simply felt it necessary to increase the soldier''s morale as much as he could, by whatever means he could, before true hardship fell upon them.


    Beam tapped his finger against the hilt of his sword, knowing that he should investigate the cause of themotion, but somehow he was unwilling to get involved. He felt the dread in his chest, apanied by a knowing ¨C a knowing that once he stepped forward and involved himself, he wouldn''t be able to rest for a long time.


    He heaved another yawn that was more like a sigh this time, and set out in the direction that the soldiers had run, fearing for the worst.


    The noise grew louder the nearer he got. There was a crowd of soldiers gathered a distance up ahead, seeming to be circling something. They were arguing amongst each other, and more than once those arguments broke down into shoves.


    From the red droplets that decorate the snow even outside of the circle, Beam didn''t have to look to guess what was inside.


    He spotted Tolsey amongst the crowd, attempting to cate them.


    "Vice-Captain," Beam called out. Tolsey paused his frantic order giving to look in Beam''s direction. For some reason, his face fell upon seeing him, as though he was thest person in the world that Beam had wanted toy eyes on. Beam frowned at that, growing suspicious.


    "Wait, boy! Don''t get involved yet ¨C attend to your duties and defend the forest front," Tolsey ordered, but Beam was already pushing through the crowd. They were grown men, each of them bigger than he was, made heavier by the chainmail armour they wore and the heavy helmets upon their head.


    Yet he moved them aside easily, even as they gave grunts ofint, and turned around to swing at him, only to pause when they saw who it was that had been pushing them.


    Beam ignored their anger, for his gaze was already fixated on the body thaty in the centre of the clearing. Blood still flowed from the gaping wound in her neck, steaming in the cold morning air as it continued to dye the snow a deep red.


    Her curly blonde hair was ruined by the blood, and there was a startled look in her dead blue eyes, as shey there in the cold,pletely unmoving.


    The shoulder of her dress was half uncovered, pulled down, revealing a wicked bruise that would never heal. The gash at her neck half-severed it. A cruellyrge wound for such a small girl. Beam realized that he recognized her.


    It was that girl Charlotte, who Beam recalled being struck a short while ago, as she worked the nights in the soldiers'' camp. He recalled that fearful expression on her face. She hadn''t wanted to keep working for the soldiers. Likely, none of the girls had. And yet here she was, dead.


    Dead, and likely not more than twenty minutes ago. From the size of the wound, Beam knew it to have been done by a sword. The men around him took a few steps back. He said nothing, yet there was a weight to his aura now that intensified, a vicious darkness. Beam''s hand was on the hilt of his weapon, yet he had not drawn it yet. He could not tear his eyes away from the corpse.


    Even Tolsey found himself cowering in the face of Beam''s oppressive aura. His voice caught in his throat the moment he attempted to call out to him ¨C he had to fight just to be heard.


    "Beam," he said, his voiceing out more as a desperate plea. "Don''t do anything, not until the Captaines."

 Chapter 235: Hell Unleashed - Part 2

    "¡­And what question might that be?" Tolsey asked, fighting to remain calm. His hand reached for his sword, but his body quivered. Why did he know, without ever having crossed swords with Beam, that it would end so poorly for him?


    Why was he so well aware that this Beam that stood in front of him, tainted by anger, that it was an even stronger version of Beam than he had seen dominate the battlefield day after day?


    He fought to remain calm. He was an officer, after all. It was not merely his skill with a sword that he had been given that position for. It was not merely his noble birth either ¨C or he liked to think so. It was for moments like these, when the men needed leadership.


    "Your master gave you orders to listen to your superiors, did he not?" Tolsey said, his voice firmer than it had been.


    Beam half turned his head to look at him. His eyes were wild. The golden flecks that danced inside them reeked of something hellish, something domineering. How had he never noticed those flecks before, Tolsey wondered?


    At his words, Beam''s shoulders rxed ever so slightly. "¡­I will wait for the Captain," he said, though his voice had lost none of its edge, and the intensity about him hardly abated.


    None of the soldiers dared to near him now, and with their gazes pointing in a certain direction ¨C the direction of the man Tolsey knew to be the killer ¨C it would only be a matter of moments before that man died if Beam had a mind to do so.


    Footsteps tore through the snow, as the Captain approached. In moments like these, moments when the tension was highest, the man never seemed to be far away, as though he could sense trouble approaching long before it arrived.


    Tolsey had only been able to keep the peace for a meagre few minutes, but Lombard still spared him an approving nod. He''d already been briefed by a frantic sergeant over what happened. Beam did not even turn to look at him.


    Just as the Captain knew to arrive, it seemed as though others did too.


    Beam turned his head to nce in the direction of Greeves, as he half-stumbled through the crowd, his body a mess of exhaustion. Loriel was clinging to his arm beside him, half fighting to hold him back, and half using him to keep herself upright.


    There were already tears in her eyes before she even saw the body. They already knew what had happened, Beam realized.


    Loriel copsed to the ground beside him, her purple dress falling atop red snow.


    "Charlotte¡­" She moaned, her voice choked and horse. She grasped for the cold dead hand that had once belonged to the woman that she had called Charlotte, and she begged for her friend to get up.


    But those eyes had ceased to take in long ago, and still, more blood flowed from the wound. She was dead, well and truly. No matter how much Loriel cried, the corpse did not move.


    There was open hostility being directed towards Greeves and Loriel from the soldiers, but mixed in with it was unease, as if even they thought that killing the girl had been too far.


    As Loriel wept beside him, Beam stood rooted to the spot, looking off into the distance, his hand clenched into a fist. He clenched his jaw so tightly he felt like his teeth might shatter.


    He wondered why he felt such responsibility. It was that oath, wasn''t it, the one that he had sworn to his master, to protect the vigers? But then, he had not felt so enraged when he saw the woman struck. Why now then, with a body before him, did everything feel so much different?


    "Ah¡­" He suddenly realized ¨C it wasn''t the oath at all. It was the powerlessness. It was fear. It was that which ate at him. He feared the time before progress, he feared when he had been so weak, so terribly weak, that he could not even defend himself.


    Now, he had been convinced that he had power, that he''d made steps in the right direction, that things had begun to change. But how true was that? Did he really know anything? Did he really have any sort of power? Were his struggles not pathetic? He still had not found Stephanie, after all.


    And now, in the very camp that he slept in, a woman had been murdered. A woman that he had sworn to protect. He''d lost before the battle even started.


    The aura of anger danced around him, and all who watched thought him to be on the very edge of losing his cool. Yet inside, it was fear that reigned. He didn''t want to go back. He didn''t want this progress to be a lie. He didn''t want to have to redo that suffering all over again.


    There was a time he was capable of enduring any amount of pain, for any amount of time. Why did he suddenly feel so out of bnce, over but a single failure? That pain in his heart from the previous evening returned for a moment, and he clutched his chest, feeling something that wasn''t him, fighting to rid him of his bnce.


    "Boy," Greeves hissed, next to him, jabbing in his side. Beam turned to look at him in surprise. Greeves looked just as dead as the woman on the floor. The stress of recent days had taken its toll on him.


    It was only at Greeves'' urging that Beam realized the Captain was calling for him.


    "Tolsey said you stayed your hand on his orders," Lombard said patiently, "you have my gratitude."


    It was only then that Beam remembered his anger. It came back threefold, like a burning sea, that sought to wash away the chilling coolness that had been left by the fear. He surrendered to that sensation. With the anger in him, he felt strong again, and vicious ¨C and some part of him even delighted in it.

 Chapter 236: Hell Unleashed - Part 3

    Lombard noted the look. "And so, I ask, who swung their de against my orders?"


    "Captain¡­ Forgive me, but was it really so wrong for them to exact justice for ourrades that were murdered?" A sergeant spoke up.


    "Ah, so it was you that killed them?" Lombard asked.


    "No¡­ It wasn''t," the soldier spluttered.


    "And why is it you know to fear the consequences of your actions, mm? Before I have even decided on a punishment ¨C you know that you will indeed be punished. If you understand that ¨C I would hope the rest of you do as well," Lombard said, his eyes scanning the crowd of gathered soldiers. Nearly half the camp was there ¨C with the rest attending to duties, so they couldn''t join in right away.


    His pale blue eyes fell on a certain man in the crowd. "It was you, was it, Bornemouth?"


    The man flinched, but did not deny it. He had a nervous look about his eyes, as Beam''s gazended on him as well, and a sheen of thick sweat was present on his forehead. It surprised Beam that he hadn''t run already.


    "Aye, it was me," he said, forcing his voice to hve confidence in it, despite his eyes and face flickering as though full of doubts. His ck hair was so thick with sweat that it clung his forehead and cast droplets down towards his beard. "And I don''t regret it. Killing arade ¨C a loyal man. ''Cos I''d kill them, wouldn''t I?"


    "Mhm, indeed," Lombard said, nodding his head. "Unless I had given explicit orders that you not do so without my permission. And this girl you cut down, were you there when she supposedly murdered our men, hm? Did oyu catch her with knife in hand?"


    "No¡­ but¡­" the man started to make excuses for himself. Apparently a group of them had found Charlotte hiding behind a tent, in tears, after they''d discovered one of their men murdered. She''d had blood on her skirt.


    "Blood on her skirt, was it? But I look at this body, and there is none on her hands, mm?" Lombard pointed out. "Have you ever known an assassin so adept that they could avoid getting blood on their hands, yet they would still allow it on their dress?"


    There was no one to properly answer his questions. Lombard drew his sword from his belt.


    "By all ounts, Bournemouth, it looks as though this particr woman that you''ve in is innocent."


    "They''re all the same!" Bournemouth spat, his fear making him indignant. "They were surely working together on it. And what is the life of what viger, whenpared with three trained soldiers?"


    "You make a point," Lombard nodded. "Losing three trained men is a cutting blow. But this was never an issue of exchange ¨C it was you who made it that. You added to the body count without my permission. Such unpredictability is not something I need in my men. Kneel."


    Bournemouth turned to look at those around him, as though expecting that they would fight on his behalf. But he found, that even the men who had been so eager to catch Charlotte with him, to exact the same justice, they had abandoned him. He had swung the sword, after all ¨C they did not feel so passionately that they wished to die alongside him.


    He dared to take a step back. "Seize him," Lombard said mercilessly. "You could have died with still some of your honour intact ¨C that was a shame."


    Beam watched the proceedings without a shred of mercy. Even Loriel had looked up, fury in her eyes. She said nothing, yet her gaze damned the man to justice.


    The soldiers on either side of Bournemouth seized him at their Captain''s orders. Bournemouth kicked and squealed. "You''re really just going along with this? They killed one of our own! Since when did vigers matter more than soldiers? He''s only giving this order because of the boy!


    He''s putting a damn peasant before the lives of his loyal men!"


    He tried to point a finger in Beam''s direction, but when he felt the waves of hostility radiating from Beam, that jabbing soon stopped. The quivering soldier could not even look in his direction. Out of the two executioners, somehow, Lombard seemed the kinder.


    "That is a mighty usation," Lombard noted. "Albeit a true one. If you had been a morepetent troop, perhaps I could have managed to spare your life, despite your grievous mistake. s, you are merely a seed of discontent and disloyalty. My army needs loyal men as much as it needspetent ones. You have no ce here any longer, Bournemouth.


    And as a man of the serving ss that you are so proud of ¨C you also have no ce left in this world."


    The trio of soldiers that had seized Bournemouth dragged him in front of Lombard. When he gave the nod, they kicked his knee from the back, forcing him to kneel in front of the Captain. Even their movements that were hesitant and first and sympathetic, thy had regained a anger the more Bournemouth squealed, as though they refused to be associated with him any longer.


    Lombard readied his sword, as a soldier forced Bournemouth''s head forward.


    "In the name of Lord ckwell, ruler of Ernest and loyal servant of King Albert, I charge you with the crime of insubordination and I do sentence you to die," Lombard said coolly. And then he swung his sword, without an ounce of hesitation. It tore through meat, and plunged its way through bone, severing the headpletely.


    With a dull sound, that head hit the floor. A spray of blood came with it.


    Lombard flicked the red from his de, and resheathed his weapon. The headless body copsed with it, adding more red to the snow, his blood joining Charlotte''s as they both made their journey to the afterlife.


    "Now," he said. "There seem to be other problems to tend to. Gather the prostitutes and imprison them ¨C but let them not be harmed. You fools that would act against my orders ¨C I give you a warning: these killings are just as likely to be the work of our enemy. Who else would benefit from such discontent? Thus, I will not tolerate further drama, not until I have verified the situation myself."

 Chapter 237: Hell Unleashed - Part 4

    "Merchant ¨C you go with them. Both as a prisoner, and as an overseer. I trust that you will ensure there and no problems, mm? What with the weight that you already have hanging over your neck," Lombard said.


    Greeves looked regretfully toward Charlotte after the order he was given, and then he rose to his feet, and nodded towards the Captain. But even as he moved, Loriel still did not budge. She tightly grasped Charlotte''s hand, crying a seemingly endless stream of tears.


    "C''mon, Loriel, let''s go," Greeves said quietly. "We''ll bury herter. First, we need to make it out alive ourselves, right? Charlotte wouldn''t want to see you die alongside her ¨C I can''t say she''d think the same about me, but that''s the way it goes."


    He attempted a grim joke even as he consoled her, but Loriel did crack even the slightest hint of a smile. She clung to Charlotte even tighter, as she cried out her pain.


    A party of soldiers had stepped forth, sympathetic looks on their faces. They looked to Greeves for confirmation, apparently not sure whether they should pry the grieving girl away. With a pained look, Greeves nodded his permission, as the soldiers slowly and carefully pulled her away.


    But Loriel resisted all the while. Like an abused puppy, she cried out, even as they attempted to treat her tenderly. Beam''s heart felt a pang at the sight, and his fist clenched once more.


    The man who had killed Charlotte was dead, yet he didn''t feel the slightest ounce of satisfaction. The girl was still dead, after all ¨C they had merely added to the pool of blood that had been spilt.


    With Loriel screaming out curses, and the soldiers dragging her away, and Greeves walking with his head hung behind them, the party disappeared in the distance, towards the other side of camp.


    "Now then ¨C this needs cleaning up," Lombard said. "Tolsey, see to it. Have the girl''s corpse kept for the vigers to bury. We''ll burn out dead on the pyre tonight."


    "Sir!" Tolsey said with a salute, before moving to carry out what he was instructed with.


    "And you boy," the Captain said. "Youe with me a moment. They have need for you on the battlefront ¨C but I have a feeling if I do not walk you there myself, then you will not arrive."


    Beam''s fist was clenched tightly, but he assented to the order, following along behind Lombard.


    As soon as they were the shortest distance away from the crowd, Lombard spoke suddenly and emphatically. "You will see that it has already begun, mm? The cmity that your master spoke of."


    Beam froze at that, momentarily stunned. He''d been so caught up in the moment, in seeing the body in front of him, the dead, and his failures, that he''d nearly forgotten about the bigger picture. Granted, it had only been a few moments since he had woken up, but he couldn''t help but think that he had blundered.


    "You feel responsible for the death of the girl?" Lombard noted as he nced over at him as they walked. "Interesting. Though I would warn you to harden your heart ¨C there will be many more dead before this conflict is over. It has not yet even truly begun, after all."


    "Why did you allow the prostitutes back into camp?" Beam asked suddenly. "There had been trouble with them already. Why did you allow for more?"


    Lombard nced at him. "A blunder on my part, I suppose. I did not expect that my men could have their lives taken from them when they were already on guard. And yet It happened. Somehow, trained soldiers were overpowered by mere women of the night, despite knowing that they should be on guard ¨C it pushes me towards a different, stranger interpretation of these events.


    I doubt the involvement of the prostitutes at all, to be frank."


    Even after receiving an answer like that, Beam couldn''t be satisfied. He''d known from the start that Lombad had hardly believed the prostitutes hadmitted the murders themselves. He had merely been using the obvious position to leverage a bit more authority over Greeves, and have him obey him.


    "I still do not know why you would take the risk," Beam said.


    "You seek to me me, boy?" Lombard asked, noting how intense Beam''s line of questioning had gotten. "There is an emotionalness to you today, one that I did not expect. Do you not recall the magnitude of enemy that we are facing? I do not deny that I blundered ¨C that I likely should not have let the prostitutes back inside the camp, even as my men asked for it.


    But do you truly think the night would have been an uneventful one if I had not, mm?"


    Being used of being emotional, Beam was once more forced to reevaluate himself. He twisted his lips in annoyance. He could not deny the anger that coursed through him. It was more than it normally might be. More than he really knew what to deal with. He couldn''t bear to set it aside.


    "No¡­ I don''t me you. If I had been more alert, I could have stopped it from happening. I should have been awake," Beam said bitterly.


    "That too is unhelpful," Lombard told him. "I''m afraid, in battle, just because you make a single mistake, the war does not suddenly pause. It does not offer you due time to reflect. Thates when the battle is over ¨C or when you''re dead. You''re forced to fight against what is in front of you.


    If you continue to wallow in this mistake of yours, and curse your weakness ¨C then you will indeed be weaker, and more people will die."


    "¡­I guess so," Beam could do nothing but agree.


    "You will not forget the people that died on your watch ¨C and nor should you. Do what you can to ensure no one else dies," Lombard said, unashamedly putting that kind of pressure on a boy that was less than half his age. And he did so with confidence ¨C knowing that this here was the pupil of Dominus Patrick. Great things were to be expected of him.


    They arrived at the battlefront, and already the soldiers were engaged in fierce fighting. The changing of shifts had not urred yet. In other words, they werete.

 Chapter 238: Hell Unleashed - Part 5

    "And if you can find it in your heart to spare some sympathy for my men, and keep them alive, I would appreciate that," Lombard said. "I will tend to the camp. You have my word that I will get to the bottom of this. Do I have yours that you can be relied upon?"


    Slowly ¨C still wearing the same dissatisfied look ¨C Beam nodded.


    "Say, ''yes, Captain''," Lombard said, correcting him.


    "¡­Yes, Captain," Beam begrudgingly said. Lombard had to stifle augh seeing that look on his face. He truly was a boy, after all. If only he would be reminded of that fact more often.


    But as he turned to leave, leaving Beam to his duties, Lombard''s budding smile quickly disappeared, and he wore a dark look of his own. Just as Beam had, he found himself clenching his fist and grinding his teeth. Three men had already died on his watch in a single night ¨C and the fourth he had had to kill himself.


    Throughout the many years of battles that he had endured, losing a man never grew easier. It was even worse when it seemed as avoidable as it had been now. He knew as a Captain, he had to keep his public doubts to a minimum ¨C but though he had said one thing to Beam, he found himself heavily regretting his decision to let the prostitutes return to camp the night before.


    Though he had expected something would happen, it might not have been something quite so chaotic.


    With the Captain gone behind him, Beam tried to right his mind for the uing day of battles. He picked his way through the defences ¨C vicious stakes that had been driven into the ground ¨C and hopped over the shallow trenches.


    "Shift change," he called. The soldiers nced behind them.. Even though they were in the midst of battle, there was an obvious look of relief on their faces.


    Two squadrons ¨C ones that had been posted to support Beam as he worked ¨C were already on standby. They nodded in his direction, bows in hand.


    "I thought we might not be seeing you today, Mountain yer," one sergeant said, approaching him. "It is unlike you to bete. Though, I suppose it''s understandable, with the state of the camp. I had a hard enough time gathering the rest of the men."


    Beam nodded in vague agreement.


    "Well, let''s get started, shall we?" The sergeant said. "Men! Take your positions! The boy is heading out!"


    Two squadrons of soldiers lined up at opposite ends of their newly formed ¨C or half-formed ¨C defences, one squadron of 5 bowmen on the leftmost part, and one squadron of 5 on the right.


    Once they were in position, Beam grasped his sword and set forth to meet the men that were already in battle.


    The opponents for that morning looked to be three Gorebeasts and two Konbreakers ¨C a challenging attack to deal with, for sure, and the soldiers were already showing signs of buckling, even though there were eight whole squadrons of them.


    It was the Konbreakers that caused the most trouble. Even with two squadrons per beast, they were having a hard time pinning the creatures down ¨C especially because the monsters seemed to be working together,pensating for each other''s weaknesses, and protecting each other''s backs.


    It was there that Beam targeted first. He could see where to strike even from a distance away. It was a precarious bnce that the soldiers and Konbreaker had formed, and with Beam in the mix, it would be over quickly.


    One moment he had only just made it to the opposite side of the trench, and the next, he was shoulder to shoulder with the squadrons fighting a short distance away. He ducked through a web of spears, having to take just as much care to avoid allied attacks as he would enemy attacks, for the majority of the men had not realized he was so close.


    But that too worked to his advantage. The fact that the soldiers did not react to his approach meant that the Konbreakers weren''t given any clues either. As the soldiers distracted them, Beam drove in towards an exposed back.


    Red eyes flickered towards him, as Beam''s de caught the winter sun. But even as it turned in rm, its beak cking in dismay, Beam found the soft spot just under its ribcage, and his de tore down, taking several organs with it.


    Just that single attack ¨C that single motion ¨C was enough to cause the tower of cards toe crashing down. Like a tidal wave, four squadrons of soldiers fell upon the remaining Konbreaker, as it turned towards Beam, distracted by the death of itsrade.


    Several spears pierced it through the back, and hot dark blood fell down to taint the muddy snow.


    Cheers erupted from the men. They''d been locked in this particr battle for nearly twenty minutes, and with them already tired from the rest of their three-hour shifts, most of them had merely been eyeing the skyline, waiting for dawn to break, when they knew reinforcements would inevitably arrive.


    But even as the men celebrated their victory, Beam was already moving, set to clear the rest of the battlefield.


    The other half of the squadrons were still locked in battle with three Gorebeasts. Their strategy had been simple: three squadrons would hold the beasts in ce, while the fourth acted as a mobile unit, that could attack the distracted beasts from the back, and support the other squadrons as and when was necessary.


    They were already seeding with such a strategy. Beam could see that one of the Gorebeasts had a fatal injury, with its organs clearly visible through a gash in its side. But it had not fallen quite yet, and even as it neared death, it seemed to grow more violent as a result.


    When Beam''s sword found its tough skull and ended its life for good, there was much relief as a result. The men did not pause to cheer yet ¨C they instead moved to help the other squadrons, and ensure the death of the remaining Gorebeasts.


    But before they could get much closer, Beam had already entered the fray. With a swing of his sword, another distracted Gorebeast fell. It was almost a crime the ease with which he dispatched such frightening monsters. His de was even stronger that day, lent power by his anger, as he sought an outlet for the uncertainty that still assailed him.

 Chapter 239: Hell Unleashed - Part 6

    The soldiers watched, stunned, as they came to a halt, realizing that they would only have been in the way if they continued in their intent to offer assistance.


    A short momentter, Beam cut the final Gorebeast''s hind leg from under it. It copsed, only to be skewered by half a dozen spear points as a result.


    "Hah¡­ Thank the Gods," a sergeant said, mopping his brow. There were murmurs of agreement from amongst the rest of the soldiers. "You werete this morning, boy ¨C but I won''tin too much. You saved us a good bit of struggle back there."


    "Apologies," Beam said. The fighting had severed to work out his nerves just enough that he felt it right to apologise for the inconvenience he''d caused, but his words were still sharp, and it was clear to all around him that he was not in a mood to be bothered.


    The sergeant seemed to take note of that, for he regarded him a moment with a raised eyebrow, wondering if he had merely slept poorly ¨C for the men on this fighting shift had not heard about the chaos of the night yet.


    "We''ll see to the corpses for youd," the sergeant said, taking care to be friendlier than usual with his grumpyrade. Most of the soldiers treat him with cautious gratefulness now ¨C well aware of the load that he was lifting for them. "I wish you luck."


    Beam nodded in reply this time. His eyes were already focused on the trees ahead of him. He could sense the next wave already approaching. He hardly spared the soldiers a nce as they dragged their corpses past him, back towards the line of defences.


    The soldiers were still fighting in front of the stakes that they''d made, and the shallow trench that they''d dug ¨C that was to ensure that building could still continue, even as they fought the waves off. So though the defences had improved, they were not making use of them quite yet.


    The soldiers soon streamed away entirely. The officer in charge of the day shift ryed the movement he saw within the trees, and barked out orders.


    "A party of Rare Goblins ¨C prepare your arrows. We''ll follow the boy''s engagement," he said.


    Those that had worked with Beam over thest couple of days soon learned that he was most unfamiliar with group fighting tactics ¨C as would make sense, for the soldiers had to be drilled relentlessly for nearly a year before they''d bepetent enough to hold their own as part of an army.


    As such, being reserve units as they were, meant exclusively to support Beam, they did not try tomand him. They merely based their attacks on working around him, on distracting the enemy as Beam made his attacks, so that he might finish them off more quickly.


    The horned goblins made their way from the trees ¨C or Rare Goblins, as the army called them ¨C ncing about nervously. They could see the blood on the floor, and the field of half-melted slushy and muddy snow that the previous night''s battling had left.


    But more than that, their focus was on the meat-scented fire that burned behind that thin wall of stakes. They cast their noses to the air and caught a wiff ¨C the scent of monsters even stronger than they were, the scent of promised power. They began chattering in excitement.


    "A hobgoblin as well!" The officer called out, causing Beam to pause, just before he''d been about to run in.


    The hobgoblins were rare enemies, especially on this forest front. Beam wasn''t quite sure the reason for that, but it was enough to make him pause anyway. They were a little stronger than Konbreaker''s after all, and the monster that he had the most history with.


    But he only paused for a moment, before they could even fully leave the trees, Beam pounced on them.


    "ARROW FIRE ON THEIR RIGHT!" The officer shouted, as much for Beam''s benefit as for the soldiers''. A cloud of arrows came storming in, just where the officer had said they would be.


    Beam hit the party on the left, instead. He could see no archers amongst this party of horned goblins, which in itself was a rarity ¨C but their spears were just as troubling.


    Or, they would have been, had the eyes of the goblins not been continually flickering toward the cloud of dangerously approaching arrows. Just that momentarypse in attention was more than enough for Beam now.


    His sword was faster than it ever had been before. It seized on the opportunity. The goblin moved to react ¨C it would normally have taken abination of attacks before Beam could have overpowered it enough tond the killing blow. But with the arrows, and its dyed reaction, his sword brushed its throat on the first strike and ended it.


    He saved the extra movements that he would have wasted on dealing with a single goblin and instead used them to dismantle the entire party.


    Three horned goblins had been caught directly in the arrows line of fire. They were intelligent creatuers ¨C intelligent enough to know that arrows were worthy of dodging. Perhaps they even respected the arrows too much, for their own kind used them, and were well aware of the dangers.


    As such, long before the arrows couldnd, they were moving out of the way with almostical vigour. But in doing so, two showed their backs to Beam ¨C a fatal mistake. It only took a single sh each to end them both ¨C these creatures that would have been so bothersome for the soldiers to have dealt with alone.


    "I have to say¡­ watching him go about it like that, making it look so damned easy ¨C pretty terrifying to watch," one soldier said lightly. All he''d done was fire a single arrow. He hadn''t even had to move from his post.


    The day shift, as such, was bing rather fought over. Men knew that it''d be basically a walk in the park, firing arrows all day ¨C every single one of them was trained with the bow, as well as the spear ¨C so they fought to make sure that their shift, if any, was the day shift.

 Chapter 240: Hell Unleashed - Part 7

    After all, they were granted the same rest days no matter which shift they did, so if they were to do any, they were of the opinion that it should definitely be the day shift. It was easy, for a start ¨C and they got to watch a near-effortless ughter of a foe that all of them despised.


    "Is it me, or does he seem even more aggressive today?" A sergeant said.


    "Now that you mention it, I reckon you''re right¡­ I don''t know if he''s pissed off¡­ Or maybe he''s getting even stronger? He can''t be, right? There''s gotta be a limit," the same soldier said in reply.


    "Fighting monsters from dawn till dusk, all but alone. It wouldn''t surprise me if he was getting better," an older soldier said.


    And indeed, that was the case, to a degree. Just as when Beam had been training in the mountains, he approached his days of monster ying with the eyes of a man that desired progress. He did not mindlessly swing his de, as a daybourer swung a shovel, merely to get the job done.


    He swung his de with the aim of improvement, with the idea in his mind that if he looked at the set of problems just right, that he''de up with a new idea and be able to act upon it.


    Now, there were only two horned goblins left, and a lumbering hobgoblin that a club in its hand that looked more stunned than anything.


    But where that hobgoblin was merely stunned, the horned goblins knew to feel fear. Beam had not once exercised his power whilst fighting on the soldiers'' battlefield. But the monsters could still feel his aura anyway ¨C they knew to fear him. Beam''s verybat style had been trained up to this point with the aim to instil that fear, after all.


    The horned goblins tried to run, but they only quickened their own demise. Beam dealt with them easily. Without their group fighting tactics, and without their spears pointed in his direction, the horned goblins were the weakest of all the foes that he had to face. He thought that to himself, as his sword shattered rib cage.


    Now it was merely the hobgoblin that was left. Beam''s eyes fell to its, and already the creature was wavering. Beam knew that if he gave themand, the beast would likely kneel before him, and offer him his life, but Beam wouldn''t have been satisfied with that.


    The death of Charlotte left a poor taste in his mouth. A terribly poor taste ¨C something that he knew he would not be able to wash out for weeks. But something the Captain had said left him with a realization: there was nothing he could do about his failure. The only path currently open to him was the path of strength.


    No matter how he thought about it, if he was only stronger, the situation would be better.


    If he was strong enough ¨C if he was aware enough ¨C he would have noticed the violence going on within the camp, even as he slept. He was sure his master certainly would have. Dominus had demonstrated levels of perception that bordered on precognition. Beam knew such states of power were achievable, and now, as the anger stormed through him, he sought them desperately, just as he had in the past.


    Once more, he wanted progress. Once more he wanted power. Enough so that problems like this would no longer trouble him. Enough so that he could defend those he had taken responsibility for.


    It hadn''t been so bad in the past, when it was merely him. Those years when the progress hadn''te, and he''d had to struggle only to be met with dust as a reward ¨C he could have fought endlessly in that state, for it was merely his own life that was at stake.


    Now Dominus had saddled him with the lives of the many, and Beam was not yet equipped to deal with that responsibility. He sought a method of growth so that he might match it, just as Dominus had intended for him.


    The hobgoblin growled uncertainly, and waved the wooden baton on its hand around threateningly ¨C the piece of wood was as big as it was, with the bark still on it from where it had plucked it from the ground.


    But Beam was used to them wielding greatswords that size. Even if the weapon packed a considerable amount of force when swung by the rippling green muscles that made up a hobgoblin''s arms, it was hard to show it the same level of respect as the viciously sharp greatswords that he had seen so often forced into their hands.


    It swung at him, with that mighty piece of lumber, and Beam easily stepped back, letting it fly in front of him, just out of range.


    There were things he wanted to try on this foe, after all. His misdirection skill was only continuing to grow stronger with his speed, though he had not yet made it moreplicated, or really added that many techniques to it.


    His skill at overwhelming was at the point where he almost matched it ¨C he was far stronger than he was, after all. He was beginning to learn that it was not just strength or speed that made for an overwhelming strike, but it was timing as well.


    It was there that his skill at overwhelming and his skill at misdirection began to ovep ¨C for misdirection allowed him to dictate the pace, to create that timing.


    The log hit the ground in front of him, sending him a spray of snow and dirt. Beam could have ended it right there and then ¨C he was far faster than the hobgoblin by now, after all, and its arm was so dreadfully exposed.


    But there was a thirdponent to Beam''s style that he had begun to work on. That method of monstrous fighting, imitates the style ofbat that a goblin might inflict. That mode ofbining flow with the infliction of fear ¨C that was his new element. That was the puzzle that he sought to solve.


    The hobgoblin did not make for the best test target, for there was already fear in its eyes. It was already a dead opponent, in truth ¨C there was already enough of an advantage on Beam''s side for him to take that victory. But he sought to create a further advantage, to use the opportunity to practise that which he was weak at.


    He allowed his sword to go ck in his wrist ¨C almost to the point of allowing it into the reverse grip, but not quite. He merely didn''t force the same rigidity in his arm that he had had before, so the weapon didn''t sit quite straight, but moved a little, ording to Beam''s whims.

 Chapter 241: Hell Unleashed - Part 8

    Then he lowered his shoulders, as a goblin would, and bent his knees, and he circled.


    "What''s he doing?" One soldier asked, unnerved. Beam hadn''t dared to practise this style in front of the soldiers that often, knowing how strange it looked. But today, he didn''t care what strange looks he received ¨C he knew there to be potential in it, or at least he thought there to be. He saw a road to greater strength through it, and so he put it to work.


    The hobgoblin grew cautious at Beam''s changed stance ¨C the fear in its eyes already grew. It was already unsettled to see a human moving differently to what it had grown ustomed to. Beam''s footwork was erratic. He didn''t step in carefully as he would before, where one foot would lead, and the other would follow, keeping him bnced.


    Instead, he moved around yfully, erratically, without thought to his feet, yet still somehow he kept his bnce under him, like a wild animal.


    He circled the hobgoblin, cutting in space here and there, slowly sensing the flow of battle, controlling the distance between the two of them with threats. Even though he moved like a monster, he didn''t force himself to stop the sense for battle that he''d built up. Instead, he augmented the two.


    Without even really being able to understand what was happening, the distance between the hobgoblin and Beam shortened, until the beast was well inside Beam''s sword range. It only seemed to notice that toote, for it gave a panicked swing of its lumber across the horizontal, but Beam was already moving past it.


    He rolled under the log, and towards the hobgoblin ¨C a feat of acrobatics that he would normally be loath to attempt, unless he was putting distance between himself and his enemy, and he knew they couldn''t reach his back.


    Coming out of that role, his sword had fallen into reverse grip in his hand, and he shed at the hamstring behind the hobgoblin''s knee, buckling it.


    Even with its hamstring severed, it was still mid swing with that heavy log. The extra momentum carried it, tilting it off to the side. The only part of its body free to move was its eyes, and they met Beam''s, full of terror.


    As it fell, Beam regripped the sword, allowing it to fall straighter in his hand. He used that added reach to drive the point below the creature''s armpit, and through all the upper organs of its ribcage.


    Itnded in a messy pile, with its limbs strewn out at unnatural angles from the unbnced nature of its fall. Even with that fatal wound Beam had delivered it, it continued to struggle, even as its green blood pooled beneath it.


    Beam''s sword found its neck next, and finished the job.


    The soldiers had watched, unnerved, as the brutality took ce. Of course, they were somewhat used to Beam''s fighting by now ¨C but not once had they ever seen him move in such an unorthodox way. Beam noted the unease emanating from their direction, and he wondered whether this style of monstrous fighting would be particrly effective against humans.


    "¡­Get the first squad out there to deal with the corpses," the officer said, after a stunned moment in silence.


    "Yes, sir!" A sergeant saluted in response.


    And so the corpses were dealt with. Beam''s eyes were already focused on the next wave, though, as he sought to strengthen his de, as he aimed to control that which was in his reach, and achieve greater strength, before the cmity that his master had warned them of truly befell them.


    With such thoughts on his mind, Beam fought, and he fought relentlessly.


    By the time midday came around, he''d dealt with over a hundred different monsters. The waves seemed toe thicker than they had before, and there was less time to catch his breath than he usually had.


    Around this time of day, he would begin to eat. The soldiers had brought rations over for him as the shift changed and new men reced the old.


    He would eat what he could in between bouts of fighting, before returning back each time for more food before the next wave. It was when he was forced to eat like that did the soldiers really understand how far they were pushing him, though few had yet to see him like that.


    They grimaced as the shift changed, realizing how easy they had it, with mere three-hour shiftspared to the dawn until dusk duty that Beam had taken up.


    Usually, a man would volunteer to take care of Beam''s food for him, to ensure that he was able to refuel himself as swiftly as he needed to. That man was usually a soldier lesser in rank. But today, it was a young man with a blonde beard.


    "Vice-Captain," Beam said, surprised, as Tolsey held onto a tray for him. A steaming bowl of stew and a piece of hard bread to mop it down with. He''d even ced an apple on the side.


    As he took the bowl of stew from the tray, the boy cast his eyes towards the trees. He figured that the Vice-Captain had something to say ¨C he was making sure he had the time to listen.


    His eyes didn''t pick up any signs of life yet, but the trees were thick, and that didn''t mean there were no monsters there. Understanding the urgency, and the meaning behind the look, Tolsey hurried to fill him in.


    "There''s chaos in the vige," Tolsey exined. "Eleven children went missing before dawn. The vigers are frantically out looking for them. There''s been calls to get the soldiers involved as well. The Captain thought you should hear it."


    Beam epted the words with a slow nod.


    "Did you hear what I said?" Tolsey pressed, when Beam did not reply.


    "I heard you. What of Greeves and the prostitutes?" Beam asked.


    "Nothing yet. They''re being held until more evidence has been gathered."

 Chapter 242: Hell Unleashed - Part 9

    "I see," Beam replied. Hisck of a reaction was beginning to unsettle the Vice-Captain.


    "The Captain expected that you might want to abandon your duties here in favour of searching for the children. Was he so wrong?" Tolsey asked.


    Beam nced at him. "It did cross my mind. However, if the monsterse streaming through here, everyone will suffer. The children are only missing, yes? Not dead? Then we will find them.


    Has the Captain made ns?"


    "¡­I see. The Captain has ordered our reserves to muster. He judges that they''ve rested for long enough. From now until dusk, they''re all going to work on the defences here on the forest''s edge. That''s so he can free you up."


    In line with Tolsey''s words, Beam could see movement from further within the camp. A steady stream of soldiers began marching their way. The majority had shovels in hand, but others brought with them massive mallet hammers meant for bashing in the long stakes that would surround the trenches.


    The monsters were not so patient as to allow them to wait, though. The fire of monster flesh burned as strongly as ever before. Piles upon piles of valuable monster meat ¨C the soldiers had remarked on more than one asion how much money they were missing out on by burning the corpses ¨C and that meat cast the sweet scent into the sky. No smell could be more enticing for a monster.


    Both Beam and Tolsey were ncing towards it now. It seemed that another Konbreaker had strolled up.


    "¡­What the hell is that?" They heard the eagle-eyed officer say. He spotted the abnormality long before it hade into range.


    "Gods!" Only now did Tolsey see it properly. Like Beam, he had assumed it was a Konbreaker ¨C which would have been a thoroughly unsettling beast nheless, but at least they knew they could deal with it.


    Now this¡­ He didn''t know what this was. It looked like a Konbreaker, but it had the unmistakable legs of a Gorebeast. It was as though one was standing in another''s shadow, making for a truly haunting optical illusion.


    But as it came further and further away from the trees, it became clear that their eyes were not deceiving them. This was indeed an abnormality of the highest order. There were three legs under it, all of the topped with the unmistakablews of a Gorebeast ¨C it even moved like a Gorebeast, with that tender way of picking its way over uneven terrain.


    Yet its body, with that shell, with that head and that beak. That was a Konbreaker without a doubt.


    "What manner of creature even is that¡­?" Tolsey said, his hand quivering. He could feel the overwhelming aura of the beast. It felt like a Second Boundary knight. It frightened him.


    "A Half-Titan¡­" Beam murmured. It was his own naming system that he''d settled on, after seeing the Titan in the woods. But as Tolsey heard him say it, he couldn''t help but think that it seemed fitting. Indeed, Titan¡­ That was a word that adequately described such a monstrosity.


    But wait, what was that word the boy had slid in front of it? ''Half''? It made Tolsey shudder to think about. What would a full one look like?


    "Boy¡­" Tolsey said, his hand was reaching for his sword. He seemed to realize that they would have to tackle this together. But Beam waved him off.


    "I can handle this, Vice-Captain. We don''t have the manpower to spare. Alert the Captain to the change. We will continue building our defences. Reassure the troops," Beam said.


    It startled Tolsey to hear his voice sound somanding. For him to so freely order a noble like himself around. He''d never heard the boy speak like that before. He wondered if it was the anger, or whether it was the fear that was making him so bold. The boy hadn''t seemed right since this morning, when he saw that girl killed.


    But despite thinking it to be odd to be receiving an order like that from a child, Tolsey knew it would be even more childish for him to refute it. For the advice was good. The n was solid. It was a n that his Captain would certainly agree with.


    A n that Tolsey realized he stillcked the grit to carry out ¨C his kind heart could not abide continually sending such a young boy into the face of great danger whilst he himself merely gave orders.


    There was nought to be done about it though. He clenched his fist,menting his own inadequacy. As he gave a nod to the boy, and turned on his heel to make haste, he reflected on just what a strange vige it was that they''de to.


    Far stranger than any battlefield he had been on yet. Though there would be arrowfire at all times of the day, and explosions from devices made by their entric Eastern enemy, there was still, somehow, an order to things on the battlefield. There were certain rules, and certain truths that were held in ce.


    In Solgrim, all those truths that he had learned were upturned. Things that had been obvious to him before now seemed like vague uncertainties. It was enough to make a man lose his mind. It took a great effort from the young Vice-Captain to hold it together. He passed the troops as they came out with their building supplies, and forced power into his voice.


    "Officers! Your debrief: the magnitude of enemy offered by the Northern Front has increased. Beam will hold it for as long as he can. Make haste with your building, and keep an eye on the status of battle. Our defences must not be breached ¨C hold the line!"


    Even the soldiers were shocked by the renewed energy in Tolsey''s voice. Even though he was given the status of Vice-Captain, he seemed to feel embarrassed to actually wield his authority. Yet now there was a stony look on his face, a harsh resilience. The soldiers found themselves saluting, as though it was the Captain himself who had given those orders.


    "Sir!" They barked, nearly fifty men saluting to him at once. Another time, in another ce, that might have sent chills down Tolsey''s spine, yet the chills down his spine flowed for different reasons. He could feel the aura of the enemy at his back, even as he marched away. With quick strides, he crossed the encampment, and headed towards his Captain''s tent.

 Chapter 243: Hell Unleashed - Part 10

    "Right¡­" Beam murmured, watching the Vice-Captain go. The soldiers were well on their way with their supplies. Beam nced at the half-eaten tray of food that Tolsey had brought for him, set upon a barrel before the Vice-Captain had dashed away. "I suppose there isn''t much time for that."


    The enemies were streaming from the trees. The Half-Titan led them, like some kind of demonic general. Three Gorebeasts slinked behind it, and behind them, there were two parties of Horned Goblins.


    The Half-Titan made a noise that sounded halfway between a growl and a cough, and the three Gorebeasts tilted their heads as though listening. And then they walked their way to the front, taking the front line.


    The Horned Goblins chattered noisily behind the general, their movements as erratic as always, as though they''d drunk half a barrel of purple coffee. Yet, they were silenced by a growl from the Half-Titan.


    They paused again, as though listening ¨C and then they went to take their ce beside the Gorebeasts. Six spear units joined the Gorebeasts, and four archers stood behind them. It was unmistakable at this point. That clearly seemed to be a battle formation.


    Beam had never seen another species take propermand of the Horned Goblins. They had always seemed to be opportunistic monsters that looked out for themselves. Yet there could be no mistaking what was happening now. This was clearly a monster brand of battle strategy.


    The soldiers noted it as well. Those still on duty, with bows in their hands, who had been tasked with assisting Beam, and those carrying building supplies, meant to be fortifying their defences. None of them could hide their dismay.


    "What the fuck is that?" Came one especially distraught cry. "What the hell is that thing? It''smanding the monsters, isn''t it? How the hell are we meant to fight against that?"


    "The Vice-Captain gave his orders. He seems to think we can hold the line against it."


    "We? He expects us to get up there and fight that? Come on now¡­ It would swipe through our spear wall with a single swing! It''s suicide!"


    "Not us. Him."


    Beam could feel the eyes on his back as he made his way away from their defensive line, and back towards the battlefield.


    The ground was slick underfoot, from where their intensive battling had trampled the snow enough to melt it, rendering it a wet slush,plete with a slimy mud just beneath it.


    The terrain, in that messy state, favoured monsters far more than man. For their ws were far more used to digging into the slippery earth than the meagre wooden treads that clung to their bootsoles.


    Even with the sky clear and free of clouds, the air was deathly cold. Beam had abandoned his coat a few hours ago, and was merely in a thin blood shirt, dotted with mud and blood, that he did his battling in.


    He was not able to witness it, for his eyes were already primed on battle, but the effect that his sliding from its sheath had on morale was nearly miraculous. The doubt seemed to disappear.


    "Damn it! I guess we''re doing this then!"


    "Soldiers, at the ready! We need to help the boy break that defensive line! Distract their infantry!" Before they knew what was happening, the officer in charge was already giving orders. But strangely enough, these were the sort of orders that one would hear on a human battlefield. Never did they expect that they''d need to out-strategize monsters.


    With the soldiers ready to back him up, Beam took a few steps forward, merely to gauge the monster''s reaction.


    There was a growl, and arrows came whizzing Beam''s way. He dodged them easily, and tapped one aside with the de of his sword, as he continued to walk forwards.


    The Horned-Goblins frantically reloaded, at the behest of their monstrousmander. Another order was given, and the front line began to advance.


    The three Gorebeasts formed the centre, whilst there were three spear-wielding goblins on either side of each. The whole line slowly crawled forward, caution in their eyes. They seemed to realize that Beam was an enemy to fear.


    As they walked, the pressure of their force could be felt. Unified as they were, they were far more threatening than they would have been alone.


    Once the distance was short enough, Beam rushed in, charging head-first at the Gorebeasts in what could only be described as foolishness.


    Even the soldiers that were meant to be his allies couldn''t guess his intentions. The officer was forced to pick a target at random. "FIRE ON THE LEFT FLANK!" He ordered.


    A cloud of arrows went sweeping through the air. The spear-wielding goblins made for prime targets. If they didn''t move, they would soon be dispatched of. The Horned Goblins knew that better than anyone. They squealed and rushed back, even at the cost of ruining that defensive line that had been set up.


    Beam saw the opening midcharge. Where there had once been a mere imprable t line, now there was a wide-open Gorebeast nk.


    The Gorebeasts attempted to move as one, as the Half-Titan behind them growled out orders. They did as they were told, but what they were told wasn''t nearly as effective as it would have been, had they merely done what was instinctual.


    Beam''s de tore through the leftmost Gorebeast''s neck, severing its head in a single clean blow.


    These were pack animals. They were meant to encircle their prey, using their speed, and wear it down as they bit away at it, alternating, before diving in and taking the throat once their target was weak enough. They didn''t benefit from this uniformbat ¨C not when they were utilised in the same way as spear infantry. It restricted them, and stopped them from showing their truest strength.


    It was only when Beam dealt with the near-rigid Gorebeast that had been forced to keep its position on the left that the other two Gorebeasts seemed to realize their folly. Used in war, such creatures should have been utilised in the same way as cavalry.


    Their monstermander was clearly not as adept at using his troops as he could have been. Their fear of Beam overwrote their fear of their impromptu leader, and the ranks broke.

 Chapter 244: Hell Unleashed - Part 11

    The monster general cked its beak together in frustration, trying to reinstil his troops with the same kind of orderliness that they''d had before, but the Gorebeasts would no longer listen.


    They''d scarpered a short distance away ¨C their eyes were still on the battlefield, as they opportunistically searched for a moment to attack, but they certainly weren''t willing to stand directly in front of Beam.


    The goblins were of a different sort, for this style of battle suited them thoroughly. Especially for the Horned Goblins, who had such battle tactics bred into their very DNA, they knew the efficacy of a solid spearwall and a single unbreachable line.


    After they were quite sure that the storm of arrows had ended, the two groups of spear goblins rejoined, creating a threatening wall between Beam and the enemy general.


    It hadn''t gone exactly ording to its instructions, but seeing the goblins positioned as they were, so poised and ready forbat, it seemed to calm that Half-Titan down somewhat, for it ceased the cking of its beak, and instead emitted a slow and steady growl as it focused its gaze on the Gorebeasts.


    With the Horned-Goblins in front of him, the Gorebeasts slunk behind Beam, manoeuvring more like the cavalry that Beam knew they''d be good at emting.


    The Horned Goblins archers sent in another volley of arrows, forcing Beam to dodge backwards. With that, it looked like the momentum that he''d been building up had been thoroughly blunted.


    The Gorebeasts slowly made their way behind him, as Beam kept his eyes to the front. He would have whirled on them in a simple surprise attack, but a mere nce behind him, at the way they were putting their weight so much more heavily on their backside, it seemed they were prepared to run at any moment.


    Now their formation was beginning to look imprable. The Horned Goblin spears were too long for Beam to leap over, and if he rushed in carelessly, he was quite sure that he''d be skewered several times over.


    "This isn''t looking good, sergeant. Are we not going to fire yet?" One of the soldiers asked, his bow was half-taut, ready to be drawn and fired at any moment. "There''s no way he''s breaking through that without us taking out some of those goblins first, is there?"


    Their soldiers had all grown to respect Beam''s skills, but against this new manner of enemy, and the sheer volume and organisation of their number, even they couldn''t help but think that it was a tall order. It made them nervous to watch ¨C for if Beam fell, then half their defence would fall with it.


    The sergeant nced nervously towards the officer as he received the soldier''s question. The man still had not given amand yet. He was staring intently towards the battlefield. That gave the sergeant all the answer he needed.


    "¡­Not yet, I suppose. We''re sticking to the original agreement. We fire to back the boy up ¨C he leads the show."


    Leading the show was indeed what they had agreed on, but with such a deadlock of position, it hardly looked like Beam could make a single move at all.


    The monsters seemed to pick up on that, for as Beam''s movements came to a halt, their confidence grew. The goblins twittered happily, and even the Gorebeasts seemed to regain some of their former glee, as salvia dripped from their iron jaws.


    "Not good enough," Beam murmured to himself, feeling the tension of the deadlock. There were ten Horned Goblins and there had been three Gorebeasts. He ignored the Half-Titan for now ¨C for the beast seemed intent on ying the role of the general, and didn''t seem to want to get involved itself until it was absolutely necessary.


    Beam had fought a Titan before, the likes of which eclipsed that which was in front of him. He recalled that hard-fought battle, that dice roll between death and victory. What stood in front of him made a mockery of that creature''s strength. These monsters were frayed in the same way that enemy had been frayed. There was something about their spirits that seemed unstable.


    He could see it in the movements of the twitching of the goblins, in the movements of the Gorebeasts, and in the unsteady way, their general tittered back and forth. If this was a battlefield out of sight, in the quiet, he knew he could break them merely with fear ¨C he could make them kneel.


    But that wasn''t good enough. That was the strength that Beam sought. Danger wasing ¨C true danger. Beam had been fighting this manner of foe for days now. Perhaps they weren''t Half-Titans and perhaps they weren''t quite so organized, but the act remained that this was an enemy he had sent to the ground several times over. There was no reason in his mind that he should be stalling now.


    "Hell ising," he told himself, as he clenched his sword tighter. "If I don''t be a demon myself, I won''t besting in it."


    He loosened his grip on his sword, and slowly slid his backfoot behind him. He had misdirection and he was beginning to get a sense for the flow of battle. But he wanted something more than that. Something he could truly believe in ¨C something to bind It all together.


    His style now favoured the water and it favoured deceit. He admired flow and he admired power. He felt his flow had eclipsed his power for some time. It was a monster''s approach that could bind the two together.


    He let his sword go ck in his hand, just as he had earlier. He lowered his shoulders and squatted down. He even felt his face distort, as he red at the Horned-Goblins, and mimicked their expressions. He allowed their madness to wash over him, their desire for violence, and he fed off it, he tried to learn that erratess, that unpredictability, that feeling of absolute pandaemonium.


    And then he charged ¨C straight at the Horned Goblin spear wall, an obstacle that even he hade to respect over the course of many encounters. The spears were long, after all, and he could hardly dodge them all. Even if he leapt, they''d skewer him midair, like a hog on a spit.

 Chapter 245: Hell Unleashed - Part 12

    Yet he leapt anyway. He leapt off his back foot with such force, that even as the Horned Goblins tried to gloat their almost certain victory, there was a hint of anxiousness in their movements, as they hurriedly tried to respond to the speed at which the attack hade.


    Three points neared Beam''s chest, as he lunged at them, his sword arm just behind him, and a monstrous scowl on his face.


    "ARCHERS! LEFT FLANK! FIRE!" The officer ordered hurriedly ¨C even the soldiers were thoroughly put off by Beam''s reckless attack. Some even looked away. They''d seen men charge at the spear wall more than once ¨C more often than not, it was their own spear wall that the enemy flung themselves on.


    The oue was never pretty. Even chain-mailed opponents would find themselves pierced. The sharp spear point would carve open a lung, or burst even a heart. They''d nce down at the weapon that had taken their life, blood would rise from their mouths, and they''d copse at the feet of the spear wielder.


    Few could bear to see a mere boy go through the same hardship.


    Yet, as those spear points neared Beam''s chest, even mid-air as he was, he remainedposed. The sword was ck in his hand, with his arm behind him. When he finally tensed that sword arm, and put might into his swing, the strike came with such speed and force that it surprised even himself.


    Rarely did Beam put his all into a single, and never before had he used a backhanded sh as a power strike. Such a thing seemed illogical. But he was in the monster''s mind at the moment. The only thing that mattered was power, crushing the enemy in front of him.


    Even without his legs beneath him to lend it power, the twisting of his body lent his de such fearsome might that the air rushed around it. The spear points that neared him were severed cleanly, before they could even near his skin, and the enemy was forced back, in a thoroughly dominant disy.


    As Beam came to the ground, a Horned Goblin copsed beneath him, taking the full brunt of his weight as Beam''s feet stamped atop its ribcage, the soldiers let out an awed gasp.


    They knew what it meant to ovee a spear wall, after all. They knew the might a soldier had to summon up to overwhelm such a positional advantage. But such was a necessary task on the battlefield. A task left for the heavy infantry, or for those insane enough to try it.


    There was a name for those men ¨C knights that refused to take leadership. Knights whose only purpose were these suicidal charges, to break up the enemy line, like water finding a crack in a rock so that it might tear down an entire cliff.


    "Berserker¡­" one soldier murmured, seeing the simrities.


    But Beam was no mere berserker. Berserkers were still men, after all. Beam was a pure monster. He used the madness of the monsters against them, hitting them with the same unyielding aggression that they hit their own enemies with.


    In the heart of their formation, with their spear wall crumbled, Beam''s sword went to work.


    In a sh of steel, his sword met the goblin to the left of him. It tried to raise its arms up in defence ¨C for the wooden shaft that remained of its spear was no good for such a close-quarters attack ¨C but Beam''s de bit through arm and ran straight through its neck, killing it on the spot.


    He treated these men on the floor with the same aggression and speed that he had put into his initial attack. He didn''t hold anything back. Ordinarily, he would have considered it wasteful. A single heroic strike was all that was necessary ¨C and then he would flow and pick apart the enemy from there, wasting minimal amounts of energy.


    Yet that was not the philosophy of a monster. A monster only wanted carnage. Perhaps it was not the best style to be used continually, but Beam sought its development, for he could sense his strength. He needed it stronger so he could bind it with the rest of what he''d learned, so he could evolve his understanding, ande up with something new before hell broke loose.


    Beam''s sword dug into the shoulder of the Horned Goblin on the right of him before it could even react. The goblin beneath Beam''s feet was barely holding on, even as its crushed ribs pierced its lung. He spared it a sh that carved across its face, using far more energy than he normally would have wasted on a downed opponent ¨C but it made for a far more intimidating sight.


    Arrows were flying through the air, heading their way towards the leftmost nk, just as the officer had ordered. Beam turned his attention to the right, and the Gorebeasts that were eyeing his back.


    Three Horned-Goblins were already dead, and their ranks buckled as Beam crashed into them. The monsters moved to run, but they were far too slow. The next goblin on the right presented its back to Beam, as it made a mad scramble forward, nearly falling over in its attempts to run. Beam''s sword cut deeply across its back, in a single and merciless sh.


    Even as that strike fell, Beam was moving onto the next. He kicked the corpse out of the way with the irritated movements of an animal, and he stepped into range of that final enemy. It was only just in range of his sword.


    With a single vicious swing, Beam hacked its leg off.


    From the sounds in his ears, of arrows hitting soil, Beam was able to tell that the soldiers'' attack had alreadynded. He finished off the goblin.


    Two Horned-Goblins remained and two Gorebeasts, and a very angry Half-Titan that could hardly believe how easily its army had been ploughed through.


    The Horned-Goblins that managed to escape on the left retreated back towards their archers, who were in front of the Half-Titan a short distance away, as though they''d earned its protection.

 Chapter 246: Hell Unleashed - Part 13

    Both goblins were twittering unhappily, nervous with fear, but one was more vocal than the other, enough to draw the attention of the Half-Titan. It watched it for a second, before reaching out with an irritated fist.


    The Horned-Goblin''s head was trapped within those vice-like Konbreaker ws before it even knew what had happened. There was a soft murmur, as it finally quietened down. But it was far toote by now. The Half-Titan vented its irritation. With a single slight squeeze, the goblin''s head exploded.


    Fragments of skull, brain and blood drifted to the floor. A headless torso copsed with it. Like that, without even raising another finger, another one of Beam''s enemies had been dealt with. But it was not as though that death came for free. The Half-Titan''s actions quietened its subordinates.


    They finally stopped looking to run away from Beam, as they realized that there was just as fearsome an enemy right at their backs, and now they''d plonked themselves in front of it.


    Beam noted a sh of movementing from behind him. His back had been towards the Gorebeasts the whole time. It seemed that their predatory nature could hardly resist such an offering. Or perhaps it was the disy they''d witnessed from their leader ¨C the fear of antagonizing it just as the Horned-Goblin had, perhaps that was what gave them the extra gal they needed tounch that attack.


    But Beam had clocked theiring long before. His awareness of his surroundings was still a major weakness. He had a clumsiness to him, in mind and in body, that he struggled to rectify. There would be moments of brilliance in the mostplicated of tasks, but then he would fail to notice something mundane.


    He noticed this, though, for it had been part of his n from the start. Though he moved like a monster, he did notpletely abandon all wisdom of the human mind.


    The soldiers called out to him.


    "GOREBEASTS AT THE BACK, BOY!" The officer shouted. "MEN! LOAD! TARGET THE REMAINING HORNED-GOBLINS!"


    Beam''s sword shed, and a headless Gorebeast went skidding past him. The other Gorebeast tried to change direction at thest second, but Beam had already turned upon it now. They were fast creatures, for true, but Beam had been getting faster every day. He still had yet to hit the limits of the second boundary.


    It turned, and Beam''s sword raked against its side, sending it off bnce, and skidding into the slushy snow. He went after it, and with another blow, he ended its life before it could get to its feet.


    His movements were beginning to grow overwhelming. There was a casualness to the way he dispatched of such enemies now that reeked of power. It was enough to unsettle enemies and inspire allies. Even with the Half-Titan still alive, and half the Horned-Goblins still remaining, such a feat ofpetence was enough to get the soldiers cheering.


    "HAIL TO THE MOUNTAIN SLAYER!" One soldier shouted. He was a member of the defence team. They''d been busily digging the trench, seeking to deepen it and widen it, even as the battle went on. But hardly a single one of them managed to tear their eyes away from the battle for even a second.


    Beam ¨C and those single two reserve squadrons of archers ¨C were all that stood between them and the most frightening monster that they had encountered on their entire expedition. For many of them, it was the most frightening monster that they''d seen in their lives.


    Yet this young yer was dealing with its offerings one after another, with more contempt than they''d ever seen anyone deal with them before.


    "THE MOUNTAIN SLAYER!" Another soldier echoed, raising his shovel in a salute. They had to. To let such prowess go without acknowledgement felt like a crime. More shovels were raised as they cheered his sess.


    Normally, that would be when they earned themselves a scolding from their officers and their sergeants, but today, the officers remained quiet. They could hardly hold themselves back from joining in the cheers.


    Even with a good portion of the enemy dealt with, the battle was still far from over. The main issue ¨C the immovable boulder that was the Half-Titan ¨C still lived. Not a single wound had been inflicted upon it.


    Seeing that, Beam felt dissatisfaction well-up inside him. He was moving better than he had before. He was able to ovee enemy defences and encirclements faster than he ever had before. But he could still feel that it wasn''t enough. He''d seen the enemies in the forest, the shadows of the woods. Their supply of monsters was nearly endless.


    If he couldn''t dispatch of a Half-Titan with ease, then how would he fare against two of them?


    The magnitude of the cmity capable of causing these kinds of repeated monster attacks ¨C it stood to reason that such a cmity would be far greater in strength than the monsters themselves. Speed was of the essence, strength was of the essence. This needed to be easy, Beam told himself.


    The next cloud of arrows went flying. Beam ran with them.


    Finally, the Half-Titan stepped forward. It used that shell on the front of its body, and easily repelled the arrows before they embedded their way onto the goblins that it had behind it.


    The goblins were lucky that it did, for they were nearly frozen to the spot with fear. They knew that if they even showed the slightest signs of moving, then this cruel general of theirs would reach out with that stone-crushing grip and shatter their heads, just as they had seen it do before.


    With the Half-Titan finally up front, it seemed as though it had given up ying the role of themander. It gave a ck with its beak and the goblin archers loaded their bows behind it.


    The final spear wielder amongst them was left with nothing to do aside from shiver, but that did not escape their leader''s attention. It gave an order, but the creature didn''t move. Beam could guess what the Half-Titan had asked of it.

 Chapter 247: Hell Unleashed - Part 14

    The creature was battling between its fear of Beam and its fear of the Half-Titan. At the second urging of itsmander, it finally set forth, albeit at an impressively slow pace,pletelycking the aggression of one that should be devoted to the attack.


    Beam noted the way its eyes darted about. Its n was written on its face. It wanted to get halfway between him and the Half-Titan, and then make a mad dash for the trees, in an attempt at securing its safety.


    Seeing the Horned-Goblining towards him, Beam walked out to meet it, the thought of speed still thoroughly on his mind. He evaluated the goblin with the smallest part of his attention, whilst he spared the rest of eyeing the Half-Titan.


    This was the deciding factor for him ¨C if he could deal with the Half-Titanfortably and quickly, then such encirclements now and in the future would not pose much of a threat. But the key was the speed.


    He clenched his fist. The Horned-Goblin came rushing, and then it attempted to dart to the side at thest moment,  so that it might avoid both beings that sought to im their lives. With a degree of carelessness, Beam ended it. His sword arm snuck out like a snake, its reach misleading.


    With a slight nick on the creature''s throat, and a spurt of blood, it fell to the floor, frantically grasping with its hands to close the wound. But to Beam, it was already forgotten, his eyes were still pinned on the Half-Titan. He needed to connect the tools that he''d been developing in his arsenal for the longest time.


    With fear, he sensed he could make this whole army buckle. But thatmand of fear wasn''t a tool he could wield freely, not where people were.


    With his monster''s approach, he figured he could surprise the beast enough tond a fatal blow. But as he looked for weaknesses, ces to strike, ces to overwhelm, the targets seemed limited. He could sense the speed that the Half-Titan had within those Gorebeast legs of it, and he was already more than familiar with the crushing strength of a regr Konbreaker.


    Normally, with that shell in front, the n would have been to go around the back, and attack there. Beam was quite sure that he wouldn''t manage to breach the shell armour, even with his strongest blow. With reckless assaults not as an option, he had to use the other tools he had in his kit.


    Misdirection, and the hero''s swing ¨C bait him into throwing himself off bnce, then hit him with a single overwhelming attack. What about the monster''s approach, how could he fit it all together? He puzzled over it. He needed to unify those separate skills.


    He''d felt the power of the monster as he shed through the spear wall, but now he needed that monster to be supported by flow, to lead the enemy off bnce, so that such strength and speed might prove effective.


    The Half-Titan was eyeing him simrly. Beam could see a nervousness about his face now that they hade closer. Without realizing it, Beam''s eyes had begun to sparkle with a purple. The golden flecks had been there nearly all morning, but now, as he sought a hero''s desire, it was udia that made her presence known, and offered him the strength to reach higher heights.


    Beam lunged in with a testing strike. He didn''t seek to achieve anything with it, other than start the flow of a river, tomence battle.


    As he''d expected, the Half-Titan easily pushed the strike aside with those monstrous arms that it had. But even from that single strike, Beam could sense that the battle had changed. He''d put less strength into the lunge than he normally would with his attacks, and that had changed the expression on the Half-Titan''s face.


    The nervousness that was there seemed to vanish. The muscles on its right arm tensed up. It was looking for a blow of its own.


    ws came streaming past Beam''s face. He moved his head just enough to dodge them. Again, the battlefield had changed, the problems to be solved had shifted. A scaled arm was fully extended past his face, with a vulnerable elbow. The entire Titan was off bnce.


    But Beam''s movements were not primed for a counterattack. Just as the Half-Titan was off bnce, so was he. He''d reacted, rather than flowed, he realized. If he''d baited that arm in intentionally with misdirection, then his right foot would have been behind his left, and his sword would have been swinging down from overhead.


    What was it? What was that little spark that made Dominus brush off every attack that Beam threw at him? What was that illusion that seemed like precognition, that seemed as though every move Beam could make was eternally being predicted?


    It was that instinct for battle that he''d thought about before. The flow that the fight settled into. How merely the movements of his feet could build up into a grand wave that set the enemy off bnce. But his understanding of it was merely a vague theoretical ¨C he couldn''t truly use it as a weapon, not yet. But he needed to.


    The Konbreaker pulled its arm back and repositioned itself before Beam could bring his sword down at it.


    "Not enough," Beam knew. He could charge forward now, he could use that strength of his, and he could eventually corner the enemy through sheer overwhelm, but it wasn''t enough.


    He settled into his rhythm of misdirection, as he did before. That flow of battle had something to do with controlling space, he''d realized before ¨C his misdirection was connected in part to the true heart of the matter, the flow that governed everything. But it wasn''t it entirely.


    He jabbed his sword towards the Konbreaker torso. They weren''t jabs meant to kill, or even wound, really, they were merely jabs that controlled the centre distance between them, that nted an idea of danger in the Half-Titan''s head, that forced a perspective on it, that it needed to dodge that space.

 Chapter 248: Hell Unleashed - Part 15

    As Beam''s arm twitched again for another jab, the Half-Titan unleashed a vicious swing towards Beam''s head. It was perfectly timed, all in line with that reality that Beam had been creating, that sense of expectancy, that the attacks would rain down in this position, regrly.


    But as it threw its overhand, Beam was already ducking down, in a sh of his sword that started at the ground and flew up towards the Konbreaker''s torso. He''d won the exchange ¨C that much was clear, as the wind rushed past his ear, and his bnce was perfectly contrary to the Half-Titan''s, hended an attack clean on its torso.


    Of course, an attack on the torso of this shelled Half-Titan meant very little. As Beam had expected, the edge of his sword couldn''t catch, he couldn''tcerate the shell. If he''d put any more force in, then his de would have shattered.


    Then, what was to be done? His misdirection had created an opening, now what? His style of overwhelming might, that hero''s sh, it would have no effect on that shell, no matter how much force Beam put behind it. Not only that, the superior manoeuvrability of this creature,pared to a regr Konbreaker, was already beginning to make itself apparent.


    The Half-Titan was already shifting its legs underneath it, to recover its bnce, and to return the battle back to an even state. Beam sought the answer to the question ¨C he sought apleted solution, a total battle art.


    He could create openings, he could end the enemy in a single sh, and at times he had even been capable of using momentum, but how did he keep the state of battle for himself once he''d taken it?


    The eyes of a monster seemed to offer him insight into that instinct. Those predatory eyes, that searched for the slightest hints of weakness. Those monster eyes that delighted Ingolsol so thoroughly.


    It was with reckless abandon that Beam moved forward. His sword had failed to do the job, and so he moved in with his fist next, forcing the Half-Titan to defend perfectly, as his knuckle aimed for the underside of its hard chin.


    The Half-Titan had been in the midst of moving backwards, and its centre of bnce was off. It managed to dodge, but that only set it further off bnce.


    It was a state of battle that Beam had seen many times before, that state of overwhelm, of shifting the momentum, of attacking continually until the fatal attack finally presented itself, as the enemy grew more and more off bnce, and spent more energy on thest attack than this one.


    But this time, it felt different. It felt more whole, less like separate thought processes, and more like a singrity, a single idea of poison and of flow. To get under the enemy''s skin, and slowly wear them down, until there was nought they could do but ept death.


    His misdirection bolstered the monstrous instinct, that free-flowing style of aggressivebat. As the creature dodged Beam''s fist, Beam leapt at it with a kick, attacking the same area that he had before.


    Just as with his earlier jabs, he imnted an idea in the Titan''s mind that he controlled that space, that such an area was to be avoided, and now, off bnce as it was, as it moved away, it moved straight into the path of Beam''s de.


    Not only did it leave itself open for the attack ¨C its momentum was so off that it lent the attack extra force. Beam''s de easily ran through its neck, missing the lip of that harder outer shell, and severing yet another head.


    The head fell to the floor with a thud, with a weighty thing. It hit the ground like a chunk of rock falling from a cliff. Its body took a few unsteady steps on those three Gorebeast legs that it had, and then it copsed,pletely and utterly.


    Beam acknowledged the death with a brief nce. His thoughts were more on his technique. His hand felt hot. He felt like he''d touched something special. His heart urged him to grow excited, feeling as though he had earned such a pleasant feeling, but with the danger so near on the horizon, Beam couldn''t be satisfied with anything less than the finished product.


    For the first time, he''d managed to seamlessly push his three different styles together, with his misdirection creating opportunity, his monster''s style creating momentum, and his hero''s style delivering the execution. But though it was overwhelming, it wasn''t where he wanted it to be yet. He felt more potential from it. It needed to be more unified, more seamless.


    They shouldn''t be separate styles at all. They needed to be one unified idea.


    A stunned state overtook the soldiers as they watched him end that Half-Titan so easily. One pair had to share a nce with each other, so that they could confirm that they''d both seen the same thing. With the Half-Titan head on the floor, they were uncertain ¨C could things really have been ended so easily?


    But when the body tottered and copsed along with it, it was clear that they could and they had been.


    Cheers erupted as they abandoned their work and raised their shovels up into the air once more. A mighty enemy, indeed it was, but they had a mightier ally. They raised those spades up high and cheered that fact.


    Beam was already running down his next set of enemies ¨C there were still those bothersome archers to deal with, after all. But as soon as he closed the distance between himself and them, the ease with which he ughtered them, even being Horned-Goblins as they were, was almost tragic.


    They raised their bows up to fend off his sword, but his sharp de easily passed through the wood and the string, before burying itself into necks and into chests, taking organs and taking throats.


    They were dealt with soon enough, and Beam left the battlefield as clear as it had been ten minutes before.

 Chapter 249: A Counterattack - Part 1

    Tolsey had watched the victory from a distance, with a look of scrutiny in his eye. Captain Lombard stood by his side, as he sought to reassure his younger Vice-Captain.


    "The boy has bought us time ¨C and will continue to do so. We have until sunset, Tolsey, then he will want to move. Have a little faith in him, mm?"


    It wasn''t exactly the boy that Tolseycked faith in, but more in himself. They were both denizens of the Second Boundary, after all, yet he knew he would have struggled against such a foe. He could feel his skin prickle from its aura even at a distance.


    Yet the head was easily cleaved from the beast''s shoulders, or so it seemed. Neither knew what was going through Beam''s mind as he fought. If they learned that he was dissatisfied with such a victory, it might have robbed them of all reason.


    Beam cleared off hisst wave of Half-Titans. There had been two, this time. From midday, all the way until dusk, Half-Titan waves had appeared with such frequency as to be almost unfair. Beam met them well, however. He''d already had it in his mind that day that things would likely get worse, and that he needed to get stronger.


    Getting stronger was exactly what appeared to happen as well. As the soldiers worked, they continually nced towards the battlefield, the anxiousness written on their faces. They were all thoroughly expecting the boy to slow, for exhaustion to catch up to him, and for the tide of battle to change.


    When two Half-Titans arose at once, that feeling was multiplied, along with something that approached despair. They''d seen the boy fight for a good portion of the day, they''d seen him cleanly dispatch of the enemies, but none of them dared to hope for more out of him. His strength was already too good to be true, especially for a youth so young.


    And so when his movements only continued to grow sharper, as Beam forced his styles together, condensing them into a single idea, they could only imagine that their eyes were ying tricks on them.


    "Is it me, or is he getting even faster?" One soldier had asked.


    Another had looked up in reply, as he shovelled dirt over his shoulder. "Doubtful, that is. He''ll be knackered by now. I reckon he''s just making a show of not showing weakness to the monsters ¨C you know they get."


    And then those two Half-Titans came, just as before, with Konbreaker bodies and Gorebeast legs, with an army strewn out in front of them, using 10 spear-wielding Horned-Goblins between, 6 bow-wielding goblins, and then 4 Gorebeasts to function as cavalry whilst the two sat in the back to takemand of it all.


    That made for a rather intimidating sight. Beam noted as well, that as he fought them, their battle tactics were improving. After ying the first Half-Titan, none of the subsequent ones made the same mistake of trying tomit the Gorebeasts to the infantry. They allowed the beasts free roam, and had them hanging behind him as an ever-threatening presence towards his rear.


    Thus, the cage wasplete, just as the sun was beginning to set, and Beam''s shift was almost over. The soldiers had all but finished their defences now. They''d worked nearly as hard as he had. They''d deepened the trenches and filled them with stakes, whilst lengthening the stake wall that was around the perimeter of the camp.


    They''d even shifted the monster lure fire that they had, so that their enemies would be more likely toe towards the centre of the wall, where they had the highest advantage.


    ncing at the sky, Beam knew this to be thest wave of the day. Most of the soldiers had finished their work by now too, as it was only a case of clearing away the dirt piles and excess wood, and there were only so many hands that could be useful for that, so many of them fell to watching how Beam would deal with this new enemy.


    "Is this the biggest load of the day?" A soldier asked, as he leaned against his shovel. "Sure seems like a lot of them. We''d need¡­ 12 squadrons to deal with that?"


    "Pah. Even 12 squadrons would do no good if we can''t bring that mutant bastard down. Naw, we''d need the Vice-Captain or Captain to ever have a chance of dealing with them¡­ But seems like the boy has their number. He fought two of the mutants at once earlier in the day and finished them handily... but then the army underneath them is twice the size now," an older man said in reply.


    "Don''t you think we''re pushing thed too hard? He might be a peasant and all ¨C but he''s damned strong. If he crumbles, we''re done for. Imagine if we had to take care of this defence alone?"


    "That''s where you young soldiers go wrong ¨C you raise people up too high, so when they fall, it''s bound to be a tragedy. The boy is just that: a boy. He''s a prodigy with a de, that''s for sure, but he''s a boy. You should be expecting him to fall. ''Cos there ain''t no man on the capable of keeping this up for days at a time. Not with the enemy getting stronger."


    Beam had already begun his attack. As he pushed his martial style into one movement, his actions became faster, as did his decisions. He was like a spear now, an adaptable spear made of water, that could bend itself to find even the smallest cracks in the enemy''s armour.


    There was a wall of spear-wielding goblins to the front of him. Now, as he attacked them, he did not even hesitate. He barrelled straight through, like a great crashing wave. He knew that as he leapt into the air, there would be but a single reaction: their points woulde rushing towards him.


    As he was now ¨C especially against such lesser enemies ¨C if he could merely lead them towards an expected oue, Beam held all the advantages.


    As those points aimed at his chest, just as they had earlier in the day, Beam merely threaded his sword under one of the spears, and flung that point across, disorganising the wall on the left side instantly, as the goblins nearly fell over each other trying to keep their spears straight.

 Chapter 250: A Counterattack - Part 2

    On the right side, he dove straight in. Their spears still came searching for him, but they were just slow enough that it didn''t pose a problem. There was already a gap opened up in the centre, a ce for Beam to gather his footing.


    As soon as his feet hit the ground, he was a storm of steel. Faster than he had been mere hours before, he sliced through goblin after goblin with all the efficiency of a meat grinder.


    The reason was two-fold. One, he''d grown used to fighting against this style of army. Beam was telling himself that fact continually, as he sought to praise his own progress. But the second reason was that he was indeed getting stronger. There was a style approaching his own now, a unique style, growing denser with each passing moment ¨C so dense that he almost had a name for it.


    Like that, five spear-wielding goblins fell to the floor, dead.


    Beam rushed towards the general''s next. They were the heart of the problem, after all, those two Half-Titans that stood just behind the wall of archers. As Beam breached the spear wall on the right, and came plunging towards them, the two hurried tried to assume the defensive, and protect their missileunching troops ¨C but they were already far toote.


    The goblins themselves turned to run. But they were already caught in Beam''s web. He sliced through all six of them, in a manner that was both inefficient, and super-efficient. With one strike, he would cleanly end a goblin''s life, by severing an artery or delivering a fatal sh to some organs.


    With another strike, he would hit them with such monstrous force that the body went flying. There was an unpredictability to his fighting now, an unpredictability that to the outside observer was difficult to prate, but Beam hade up with his own logic for it now.


    With his misdirection, he set the stage, he created the battlefield and he dictated the flow ofbat. When hebined that with his monstrous style, he created something unpredictable, but fluid, as though he was dragging the enemy into deep and dark waters. And when they were in those dark waters, he wouldunch a fatal strike.


    The first Half-Titan attempted to step towards Beam, but there was already panic in its eyes. Beam''s movements on the battlefield were seamless now. He''d already set the stage with his ying of the archers, he''d already controlled the space and spun a web, pulling the Gorebeast in a certain direction. He''d subconsciously nted the idea within it that Beam would target the legs.


    He''d gone low on all the goblin archers, after all, and the Half-Titan was far bigger than they were.


    With a slightly exaggerated motion, he drew his sword back behind him, and moved to target the creature''s legs, just as it had begun to expect. A fist was ready to meet Beam to counter that strike.


    Of course, Beam had predicted such a response, for the stage had been set up by him from the start. He was thoroughly in flow with the timing of the battlefield. The current was his ¨C the crashing waves were his. He severed that arm at the elbow.


    The Half-Titan looked at its arm, stupefied, hardly able to process what had happened. Because of Beam''s positioning, and Beam''s flow, his counter on the monster''s attack had been lightning fast. Indeed, it was almost like he''d been throwing his own strike to counter before the monster even began throwing his.


    The sequence was concluded. With no right arm to defend itself, Beam pivoted to the Half-Titan''s right. His sword speared into its lower gut, as its eyes still failed to process what was happening, and its arms iled directionlessly.


    As it buckled under the damage of that blow, Beam swiftly withdrew his sword, and sliced out a chunk of its throat, half-severing its head. He allowed the body to copse behind him and he rushed towards the next Half-Titan.


    "Captain!" The officer on duty saluted, as he finally noted the presence of Lombard beside him. His men had just loosened a volley, aiming at the left nk of the spear-wielding goblins, but the arrows were about to fall short, as they had all day. Their only real purpose was that of distraction.


    Lombard watched the battle, almost smiling, as with three movements, he dealt with the second Half-Titan, before he began butchering what remained of the battlefield, starting with the four Gorebeasts that had been rushing in to attack his rear.


    "Are my eyes deceiving me, or did our youngrade deal with those with deceptive ease?" Lombard asked. It was more a question to himself than anyone, but the officer dared not run the risk of offending him by remaining quiet.


    "For the magnitude of enemy, I''d be in agreement, Captain. He seems to have grown more adept at ying the foe throughout the day. A few hours before, it took him far longer to deal with just a single one of them, and an army half that size," the officer informed him.


    "Is that right?" Lombard murmured, tapping the hilt of his sword. "His movements do look sharper than I''ve seen them previously. Or perhaps it''s that he''s merely grown more ustomed to fighting this enemy?"


    "It does seem unlikely that one could improve their strength in just a matter of hours," the officer said, by way of agreement.


    "Mm," Lombard murmured thoughtfully. Perhaps it did seem rather unlikely, at least from the eyes of a soldier. But the knights dealt in different things. They knew of the boundaries that the Goddess udia had set. They knew just how exceptional progress could be once it was loosened.


    ''And this is Dominus Patrick''s apprentice, after all,'' he thought to himself. ''Nothing would be beyond the pale if it involved that man.''


    "Ah. It seems he''s finished. Have the men deal with the corpses," Lombard said.


    "Sir!" The officer saluted again, before he barked some orders to the sergeants beneath him, and men began to move. "By the way, Captain¡­ I was wondering ¨C what of the night shift?"


    "Ah, yes. Indeed, I expect many of our men will be wondering about the night shift¡­" Lombard said, nodding along.

 Chapter 251: A Counterattack - Part 3

    "The boy is the only reason we were able to hold for this long during the day, after all¡­ For the enemy to be growing even stronger. It does not bode well," the officer murmured.


    "I expect that things will not continue this way for much longer," the Captain said cryptically. The officer looked up sharply at that. The Captain smiled at him. "I n to set the boy loose, this evening, after all."


    From a Captain that hardly smiled, It was a look to make the officer shiver. He would have asked a follow-up question, but Beam had already strolled over, after hoping up the deep trench with a single leap.


    His clothes were stained with blood and filth. They looked ready to be burned rather than washed. The officer could not imagine any bath managing to get the boy clean again. It was hard to tell just what colour his skin was underneath all that filth.


    With a motion of his head, Lombard dismissed the officer. The man saluted again and scarpered away.


    "No Tolsey?" Beam asked, ncing around. He hadn''t seen the Vice-Captain since midday, when they''d seen the Half-Titan together.


    "No. I''ve set Tolsey about other tasks. How do you fare? Exhausted?"


    Beam flexed his fingers. "I feel fine."


    "From that look in your eye, you''re nning to go into the vige, yes?" Lombard asked. "That girl has already been hard at work, gathering information on those missing children. She''s roused half the vige to her cause. They''ve been moving like an army."


    "And? Did they find anything?" Beam asked, his eyes urgent.


    Lombard slowly shook his head. "No¡­ But I think they''ve narrowed down the possibilities. Also, there''s a bit of business I want you to attend to, while you''re in the vige. As a soldier of mine, mm?"


    Beam frowned at that. "I thought I was done with my shift for the day."


    "Oh, you are. I just thought you might have enough time spare to deal with a little problem. There''s been chaos in the vige since the morning, and of course, I summoned the vige leaders to attend to the problem. Those you called the major families arrived without issue, but their influence seems to only be in title.


    There was a missing face that I was particrly displeased not to see ¨C that of the vige Elder," Lombard said.


    As Beam listened, there had been an irritated look on his face all the while, but as the Captain mentioned the vige Elder, he looked up sharply, finally understanding what the Captain was getting at.


    Lombard nodded, appreciating the boy''s understanding. "For a leader such as himself not to respond to the summons of a noble ¨C that is a grave offence. I can only imagine that something has happened to him, that, or he has rebelled against me. Either way, my hand is forced. I would ask that you drag him before me for an exnation."


    Though they had not said it explicitly to each other, both harboured suspicions about the Elder, especially given what had happened at the Ingolsol festival the previous night. There was a palpable darkness to the man. Not something that would inform someone as to what it was, but just enough that it made a perceptive man wary.


    Of course, wariness was no evidence to move on. Even a noble like Lombard would face issues if he dragged the vige Elder away without even probable cause to go on. But now, the Elder hadmitted the mistake on his own. Whether intentionally, or through a sheer blunder, they now held the legal upper hand on him.


    "We''re in agreement then?" Lombard asked.


    "We are," Beam said.


    "We are, Captain," Lombard corrected.


    "We''re in agreement, Captain," Beam said, without even his usual hint of mirth at being corrected. He turned to leave there and then, his gging energy all but restored. Finally, they had a chance to verify those suspicions they had of the Elder. But before he went, he remembered something. "What about the battlefront? Can your men defend it by themselves?"


    "Ah," Lombard nodded. "Good of you to worry about that. I had imagined that you''d leave straight away, to see to this cause of yours. But you needn''t worry about my men. They are far hardier than they look. Besides, I think it''s about time I joined the fray."


    He drew his sword to ent his words. Beam was struck by a notion of rightness, as Lombard stood there, sword in hand. His de was as simple as Beam''s. It had none of the gaudy decorations that one would expect from a noble. It thoroughly matched the personality of its master.


    The Captain exuded strength, when the sword was in his hand like that. He unbuckled some of his aura as his sword sat there. A feeling of strength washed over Beam. A quiet and charismatic strength ¨C a strength that emboldened allies. Beam was struck by an urge to see the Captain inbat.


    "The night is yours, boy," Lombard said. "Bring me something decisive. I will hold back the enemy in your ce."


    Beam nodded seriously, and clenched his fist. "Consider it done."


    "There''s a squadron of men waiting for you on the outskirts of camp, towards the vige. They''ve been told to take your orders," Lombard told him. As he said those words, he wondered if the boy would understand the significance of such a thing ¨C for members of the Serving ss to be taking orders from peasants. But Beam showed no hint of surprise. He merely nodded.


    "If you understand, then be off with you," Lombard said with a flick of his wrist. "I''ve battling to do, and stresses to get rid of."


    Beam set off towards the edge of camp at a jog. He''d targeted the vige square in his mind. He wanted to meet up with N as soon as possible, and gather any information that she had first-hand. There was also another reason: he would have felt bad leaving her out of something so big.


    The further he went away from the centre of the camp, the more things darkened. Not all the torches had been lit yet, and the majority of the men had been busy for the day, ensuring that the defences to the north wereplete and adequate.

 Chapter 252: A Counterattack - Part 4

    When a voice called out to him, Beam had to re hard into the shadows to see where it came from. After a moment, his eyes adjusted, and he noted a particrly big shadow.


    "Oy! Beam! Over here!"


    Beam moved towards them. Sat on a bundle of barrels, there was Judas, waiting, with chainmail over his chest as though he had been wearing it his whole life. There were five soldiers with him ¨C the squadron that Lombard had promised.


    The men seemed clearlyfortable with each other. From the way that Judas was lounging about, he too feltfortable amongst them. That ability of Judas'' to seemingly get on with any man was something that Beam marvelled at.


    The men straightened a little as Beam approached. Therge majority of the soldiers treated him with respect now, some even feared him. All knew of the feats of the Mountain yer, even if they looked down upon the peasantry.


    "I see you''ve got yourself some equipment," Beam said, nodding at Judas'' chainmail, and the sword at his hip.


    "He''s been on the field as much as any of us, so I figured I ought to get him kitted out. What good''s an oxen like him if he gets taken out on the first sh, after all," a soldier said in reply. Beam recognized his face, but he didn''t know his name.


    "We''ve been told to listen to you today," another man spoke up. Beam recognized him as a sergeant from the red patch on his arm. "Are we set to go?"


    They were clearly eyeing Beam''s appearance, covered in filth as he was. The question seemed to contain another. ''Do you want us to wait until you clean up first?''


    But Beam had no reason for such vanity. He''d never presented himself particrly well before the vige in the past, at least not in terms of appearance ¨C today would be no different. There was haste to be made, after all.


    "We''ll move out now. I want to meet up with N, then we''ll make our way to the Elder''s house," Beam said.


    Judas stiffened at that. That house was not a seat of pleasant memories for either of them. "So we''ve finally got the go-ahead for that..? I''m sure the boss would be pleased, if he wasn''t locked up¡­"


    As he recalled his master, a bitterness crossed Judas'' face. Beam could see that the big man felt as regretful as he did about the death of Charlotte. "If we manage to gather some evidence here, then Greeves shouldn''t remain under suspicion for too long. I''m sure if you manage to find something good, he''ll reward you."


    Judas perked up at that, and he nodded, his grin broadening at the thought. "That''s right! He would, wouldn''t he?" He turned to the soldiers. "I''m gonna be relying on you fes tonight, then! Keep your eyes and wits about you, and I''ll owe you a favour."


    They nced at him and rolled their eyes. Apparently, they were used to Judas'' mannerisms by now. Some even seemed to find his ways amusing, for there was a grin on their lips. The boundary between Serving ss and peasant was growing ever smaller.


    With a few more quiet words exchanged, they made their way towards the vige. There were two torches between the soldiers, and the bright light cast gloomy shadows as they made their way through the market square.


    "It''s quiet¡­" Judas remarked. Beam was in agreement. For all the ruckus that he''d heard was going on during the day, he''d assumed that there would be people still bustling about.


    Of all the people they expected to see, there was only a single old woman, waiting outside her shop, a worried look on her face. She seemed to be searching for something.


    She noticed their partying, and Beam saw the grimace on her face when she caught the state of him. From her pained look, he figured that she saw him as wounded, rather than dirty, but as they came closer, the worry seemed to disappear.


    "Beam¡­" she murmured. It had been a while since they''d spoken. The quiet boy that had finally spoken to her properly nearly a month ago had gone through some dramatic changes. Once, he lost himself in obscurity, and now he seemed to be at the centre of every major happening. She couldn''t help but feel sorry for him.


    "It''s just mud," Beam reassured her. "Where is everyone?"


    "And blood, from the looks of it," she said. "They have you fighting¡­" She didn''t hide the discontent on her face as she nced at the soldiers. Clearly, she seemed to think that they were forcing him to fight. That they were using him as one might a ve.


    The soldiers looked away ufortably, but none of them tried to exin themselves. Even if it was a peasant, an old woman''s look of condemnation was universal. They did feel ashamed of themselves, to a degree, to be outdone by a boy, and to be relying so thoroughly on a boy. But the thing was, in their defence, he was no ordinary boy.


    They would have said as much, but without a picture to describe just what they meant, they would have only been digging their hole further.


    "Everyone is on edge. So many children have gone missing. It''s a terrible thing. Everyone''s angry. No one trusts anyone. People have raided each other''s houses, calling them suspicious.


    They''ve all been at each other''s throats," the old woman exined.


    "Has anyone been hurt?" Beam asked. He''d heard that N was at the centre of the vigers, that she was inspiring their information gathering. Though it worried him to hear that the vigers had forced their way inside each other''s houses, he found it hard to see that as a particrly bad thing ¨C at least from his perspective. It merely served to narrow down options.


    The olddy shook her head. "No¡­ N''s been fighting to keep everyone under control. But they''re gathered now, outside the Elder''s house. They''re calling for him, since he''s yet to answer. Those who''ve had their children taken by him, they''re leading the rest of them¡­ What about you, Beam? What are you going to do?"

 Chapter 253: A Counterattack - Part 5

    "So they''ve already gotten there before us?" Beam mused. "I''ll do what I can. We need evidence, after all. But I find it hard to believe that a single old man could abduct so many children within a single night. Clearly, there''s something bigger going on."


    The old woman nodded. "I think so too. I think everyone does ¨C but they''re loath to admit it. The idea scares them. They''re looking for people to pin the me on, to quell their fear. They''ve never had to go through anything quite like this.


    We''ve always heard stories of the other viges, and all they''ve been through with raids and the like ¨C but we''ve never truly suffered in the same way."


    Beam nodded. "I had better move quickly then."


    The old woman spared him a sad look as he left.


    Just as thedy from the bakery had said, there was a crowd of people gathering in the area by the vige Elder''s house. None had dared to walk up the long and winding gravel path towards it yet, which Beam found odd, but their intent was still more than obvious.


    As he drew closer, Beam could see more than just the torches that they held. Many of them were armed, with axes in their hands, or long knives for butchering. The tension was more than palpable. It gave Beam chills to feel it, just how wound up everyone was. He thought it to be a miracle that no one had killed each other yet.


    In the centre of it all, there was N, with her in hand, and a quiver over her shoulders, trying to calm everyone down. Rodrey and Rodrick were on either side of her.


    "We''ve already sent word to the Captain!" N told them. "With his permission, we''ll be able to search the Elder''s house without violence. He already missed the Captain''s summons. It''s only a matter of time before we get word back."


    "To hell with the Captain! To hell with those soldiers! To hell with the whole fuckin'' serving ss! My boy''s been taken ¨C half the vige''s kids have been taken ¨C and that bastard old man won''t even show his face. I don''t care whether he had a hand in doing it or not ¨C he''s gonna pay. What use is an Elder that isn''t there when it counts?"


    There were several cheers through the crowd, as a middle-aged man gave that promation, holding his axe up into the air.


    "He''s done it, I tell you! He took my boy from me! Said it was a debt ¨C he refused my money, and took my only damn son. He''s evil, he is. And those servants of his? There''s something messed up about them.


    And now that your kids have been taken, only now do you finally listen! Well, damn it, you blind bastards, now that your eyes are finally open, see that house up there? We''re going to storm it!"


    "Now, just wait," N pleaded. "Just wait for Beam. With the Captain''s permission, we''ll be able to search the house all the same ¨C we just won''t cause trouble for ourselves in doing so."


    "The boy isn''t here," the old man said. "And there''s no telling when he will get here. Nobles can''t be trusted. We peasants mean nothing to the likes of them. I''m through taking orders, minding my business, I''m going."


    He started down the Elder''s path, his axe swinging by his side. It took him a few steps, but other people began to join him too.


    Some spared N an apologetic nce, before they went to join him. She''d been fighting to restrain them all day, all whilst still trying to gather information amongst them. No one was more anxious than she, as more children disappeared and there was still no sign of Stephanie.


    Defeatedly, she bit her lip, as she watched the vige go on ahead of her. She wanted to join them. She wanted to search that Elder''s house as much as anyone. She didn''t trust him one bit. But he''d taken on a responsibility, and she couldn''t merely cast it aside.


    Suddenly, that ever-growing crowd stopped, a mere quarter of the way down the vige Elder''s path. N looked up in rm. It was as though they''d hit an invisible barrier of sorts.


    That was right, wasn''t it? There was no guarantee that it wouldn''t be dangerous. Especially if things were as connected as Beam thought they were. Those monsters n the woods, those shadows¡­ It made no sense to assume that they''d be fine, if they were charging straight into where they thought dangery.


    Yet it was not a barrier, but a voice that turned those vigers back.


    "It would seem you''ve all managed to stir yourselves up," Beam said.


    It took them a moment to recognize him, with the filth covering him, and theck of torchlight. It was only those at the front that really stood a chance.


    Beam had moved, and then Judas hurried to join him, and then the soldiers came after him. But it was Beam that stood alone against the crowd, whilst his allies hurried to join them, it was he that stared them down.


    The wave of anger that had been flowing so freely before now ground to a halt. The mind of the mob was a potent thing, especially when it got going.


    The vigers looked startled. They didn''t know whether they should be apologetic or celebratory, as the boy returned to greet them.


    "Boy¡­" the old man that had led the charge said, unsure. "My son''s in that house. You''re not going to stop me, are you?"


    "Beam¡­" N said, straining her eyes to see him.


    "The Captain has given you permission. There are orders to bring the Elder to heel, for ignoring the summons of a noble. His house may be searched in the meantime," Beam told him.


    The old man looked at him, surprised. "He did..? Really?" He couldn''t fathom it. "Then why are you standing in our way?"


    The Novel will be updated first on this website. Come back and


    continue reading tomorrow, everyone!

 Chapter 254: A Counterattack - Part 6

    "Evidence is to be gathered. Thates first, above your revenge. Your child is missing, are they not? Would you really allow eagerness to destroy clues as to his whereabouts? If the whole vigees storming in, everything but the most obvious things will be lost," Beam said. "But all the same, I can not guarantee that letting me go alone will prove to your benefit either.


    I simply ask for this: fifteen minutes of patience. I will search the ce thoroughly, and then you can go in as you will."


    The old man still had fury in his heart. N, as she pushed her way through the crowd, was quite sure that he would simply brush forward anyway, ignoring the logic of Beam''s words, choosing to put his fate in his own hands.


    But as the soldiers made their way behind Beam with their torches, as Judas stood like a monstrous shadow at his right soldier, something seemed to make the man pause, for he bit back whatever answer was on his tongue.


    There was a shift, Beam felt, the same shift that was on a battlefield. He could feel it just as clearly ¨C a shift in hearts, like the momentum of a fight.


    There was something about the sight of the boy, covered in grime as he was, that seemed to have an effect on him. It wasn''t the words that had turned his heart around. It was a look in the young man''s eyes, ncing at a fury that nearly matched his own. It was ncing behind the boy, and seeing those soldiers, and seeing Judas, all looking towards Beam as one would look towards a general.


    These men, as they looked towards Beam''s leadership so readily, were staring down the crow with the utmost ferocity. The most dangerous man in the vige ¨C or so they had thought for years ¨C and five members of the Serving ss, all following the directions of a boy of fifteen as though it was the most natural thing in the world.


    "¡­I''ll trust you then," the old man dered finally. "Fifteen minutes is it, alright? And then it''s all mine?"


    The old man stuck his hand out. Beam took it, and shook it firmly, reaffirming the man''s trust. "Fifteen minutes," Beam agreed. "And if there''s anything in here that we can use, we''ll find it," he promised.


    With the crowd tamed, Beam looked over them. "N," he said, motioning with her head for her to join them.


    She looked surprised, having expected to be left to control the crowd. "Leave it to Rodrey and Rodrick. We''ll need those hunter''s eyes of yours."


    She smiled at those words, and hurried to join them. The crowd looked at her as she passed. She was merely pleased for a respite from the responsibility, if only for a short time.


    She didn''t say anything, not until they''d turned around, and began walking up the vige Elder''s path, with his house sitting ominously in wait. Then, she could hold it in no longer. "You stink¡­" she said emphatically, as she twisted her face.


    Beam raised an eyebrow in surprise, as he looked down on himself, then slowly but surely, his face broke out into a grin. "Yeah, I suppose I do," he said. "Good job controlling the vigers, by the way. The Captain was pleased."


    She frowned at that. "Did you not see? By the time you came, they were already not listening to me."


    "Maybe ¨C but you steered them away for a whole day. And no one died. From the talk of the tensions, that''s a certain achievement," Beam said.


    "Aye, I was expecting to see at least a few bodies piled on the street," Judas agreed. "Always happens when the crowd gets excited."


    N spared him a distasteful look. "Of course, there''d be no bodies. Not everyone is as violent as you."


    "Did ya not just see a crowd full of axe-wielding peasants, little princess? That seems plenty violent to me."


    She bit her tongue, unable to fire back at that. The giant was right, after all. They''d walked a paper-thin line. For a crowd that size to be gathered, and all of them dangerously armed. It truly had been a miracle that nothing had happened.


    "But here we are now," Beam said, bringing their attention back to the current moment. "I don''t know what we''ll find here, but if it''s connected to anything that has been happening, then you can bet it''s not exactly going to be safe."


    "That''s why you didn''t allow the vigers in¡­" N murmured. Though safety wouldn''t have made for a good argument against a dozen angry parents worried for the safety of their children.


    "I''ll want the men on their toes then. Draw your weapons, boys," the sergeant said. The soldiers shared a few anxious looks. It was magecaft, after all, that they''re fearing. There were talks amongst the soldiers of such a thing. Magic was synonymous with evil, and with great power.


    It was a thing to be feared with all the heart a man could muster.


    Their swords came clear of their sheaths in a fluid motion, Judas hurried to draw his as well, though he didn''t have the samemand over the metal that they did. It seemed clumsy and out of ce in his hand ¨C more liable to slow him than help him.


    They paused at the door to the house. The light of their two torches cast a dim glow against its features. Even in the daytime, the house seemed gloomy and dark. At night, it was only worse. There was a palpable feeling of animosity radiating from it, as though it was trying to scare outsiders away.


    "That''s a thick door," the sergeantmented. It was indeed. It was the type of door that wouldn''t have been unsuited in a castle''s keep. It was made of thick, dark varnished wood, with ck steel rivets running throughout it, reinforcing it. Seemingly their only hope of getting in was that angry ck ring handle.

 Chapter 255: A Counterattack - Part 7

    Beam grabbed it, merely to test his luck. Of course, he didn''t expect it to be open. Sure enough, the door didn''t move, as though someone had nailed it shut. His eyes darted to the windows instead. The wooden shutters had been closed tightly too, but they certainly seemed to offer more hope of entry than that thick door.


    With his newly gauntleted fist, Judas had followed his gaze. A smug smile crossed his face, as he drew back his fist, without even being given the order to do so.


    A loud bang resounded, as the armour of his hand collided with the centre of a wooden shutter. A crack ran through it ¨C yet it didn''t fall from its frame just yet. Another fist followed it, breaking it straight through.


    "There ya go, all open," Judas said smugly. He reached his hand inside, and flicked open thetch, so that he might push the rest of the debris out of the window frame. It fell inside with a crash that seemed to echo too loudly inside of that ominous house.


    "And now what?" The sergeant remarked. He, like everyone else, had been looking at Judas somewhat wryly. The man was clearly used to breaking into houses. There hadn''t been an ounce of hesitation before he went to punching through the window.


    "Get someone to crawl in and open the door from the inside. We''d usually get Brem to do that ¨C seems to be able to get into all the tight spaces he does¡­ But given that Brem isn''t here," he trailed off, looking towards Beam.


    "Didn''t we just agree that this was dangerous? And we''re already splitting up?" N pointed out.


    "I can''t say we have much choice. Unless you''ve got any other way past that door," Judas said.


    "But there could be anything waiting inside. I don''t know much about fighting, but going in through that tight space, you''re leaving yourself too open, aren''t you?" She continued.


    "I''ll go," Beam said firmly. "We don''t have much time. We''re going to have to take some risks."


    He put his hands up on the window frame, and kicked against the wall as he hauled himself up. N nced after him, the anxiousness written clearly on her face. The soldiers were simrly stiff. Their hands tightly gripped their swords, and their heartbeats were palpable. At any moment, they expected something to jump out to seize their youngmander.


    The window wasn''t even wide enough to amodate the full width of Beam''s shoulders. He had to twist his body, and go through at an awkward diagonal. He couldn''t make out any of the house''s inside as he struggled, for his body blocked the light from the torch. Even his heart was beating wildly now.


    After a moment of struggle, most of his torso was across the threshold, and he allowed gravity to take care of the rest, as his legs kicked behind him, urging him faster through the gap.


    He began to fall. With one hand still awkwardly ced on the window''s ledge, he managed to direct himself in a forward roll, as he headed towards where he assumed the floor to be. Hended heavily, nearly winding himself, but he was back on his feet a momentter, his hand towards his sword, as his eyes scanned the shadows, searching for movement.


    "You alright in there, boy?" Came the sergeant''s voice, tense with fear, as he held a torch through the window, finally filling the room with some amount of light.


    It was the same room that Beam recalled, with those dark wood floorboards, that dusty old rug in the centre of it all, those strange skulls on the wall, and a messy desk filled with all sorts of papers.


    Beam took the torch, and spared the rest of the room another nce, to confirm that nothing was moving, then he turned his attention to the door.


    It was thoroughly bolted shut ¨C through three different bolts, one at the top, one at the bottom, and one in the middle. That fact made Beam more wary. It meant that someone was inside ¨C they had to be. But where?


    He hurriedly opened all three of them, though they were stiff and took some forcing. As soon as they were freed, Judas'' shoulder forced the heavy door inwards, and Beam was once more reunited with hisrades, feeling something akin to relief.


    No one spoke now. Even without orders, they were consciously trying to move as quietly as they could, as though afraid of waking something.


    Beam took his torch, and crossed the room, towards where the Elder had made him sit, that time Beam had needed to visit him. He could have sworn somewhere in his memory there were crystals of some sort, but as he searched the desk, he could find nothing of that description now.


    There was merely a mountain of paperwork, seeming to be ledgers of some sort, ounting for the various debts that the Elder owed.


    He brushed them aside with a frown. There didn''t seem to be anything interesting among them.


    He then began to search the desk''s drawers instead. The top one ¨C empty. The middle one ¨C empty. And then the bottom one was empty all the same.


    "This has been cleared out," Beam noted with a frown.


    The sergeant was looking in the firece, raking through the ashes with his hand. "These are stone cold. It hasn''t been lit in days. And look at these ¨C paper ashes."


    The ashes from paper didn''t crumble in the same way that ashes from wood did. Instead, they sat in thicker kes, making a mess of the firece.


    "More than suspicious, do you not think?" The sergeant said, as he dusted off his hands.


    Beam nodded. The ce had been cleared out in a hurry, it certainly seemed. But why? Just what was the old man hiding.


    "This is the creepiest fuckin'' ce," Judas murmured, looking at the skull of a deer on the wall. Its horns had been painted ck. "By the way, how''s the door locked from the inside when no one''s here?"

 Chapter 256: A Counterattack - Part 8

    At his words, the soldiers shared fearful nces. Beam thought he could see one of them shiver.


    N was still studying the room, her eyes cast to the floor, as though she were in the forest searching for deer tracks. Beam couldn''t tell what she saw ¨C her eyes seemed to pick up far more than he, but the intensity of her scrutiny caught his attention. He watched her for a few moments, and waited.


    Suddenly, she pulled the carpet back, revealing deep scratches in the wood.


    "Gods! What the fuck is that?" Judas cried out in rm.


    For a stretch of a few feet, there were deep w marks in the wood, as though someone ¨C or something ¨C had been dragged, as it desperately dug its fingernails in, fighting against the movement.


    "Harder to get rid of those," the sergeant noted as he observed them. "Can''t say any man I know would be able to inflict gashes that deep into wood this thick."


    N pulled up more of the rug. Nothing but rough floorboards. Beam moved to help her, and together, they shifted the weighty carpet from its spot in the centre of the room, revealing more of the floor, and a section where a square had been cut out of the wood.


    "A cer," the sergeant noted, as he attempted to pry it open with his fingers. It was only when the torchlight was cast a little closer did they notice a keyhole.


    "A keyhole in the cer?" Judas murmured. "Can''t say I know what some old man is thinking, but I do know one thing, no one has a cer with a keyhole unless they''ve got somethin'' to hide. Be it gold or whatever else, what''s good is always in the cer."


    "How do you get it open without a key, though?" Beam asked. There wasn''t enough of a gap between the trapdoor and the floorboards around it to get real purchase on the wood. Beam imagined they''d need a hammer, or some other such thing to stand a chance.


    "You''d pick it," Judas said, as he crouched down. "I ain''t got the tools to do that, though. Not got the hands for it either. We''d want to call in one of the boys to do it."


    "There''s someone down there," Beam noted.


    There was a collective intake of breath at that, but no one refuted his words, for it was indeed the only ce a person was likely to be ¨C they''d searched the rest of the main room, after all.


    "We don''t have long. We have to get in now. The Elder likely ounted for this. We''ve seen him cover his tracks, or so it seems, with his burning of papers, his ridding of evidence. He likely was just attempting to buy a few days, at most ¨C he''s assuming we won''t be able to get into this without burning the ce down," Beam guessed.


    "But if we get one of the boys, lock-picking it tomorrow wouldn''t be out of the question," Judas said, but Beam shook his head.


    "Tomorrow is out of the question. If the Elder is in league with these events that have been happening, then we don''t know what tomorrow will bring. Today a dozen children went missing, and Half-Titans started appearing on the edge of camp. The Captain was firm when he gave us his permission ¨C we have to find something tonight, and I''m in agreement with him," Beam said.


    "Yet we promised those vigers fifteen minutes¡­" the sergeant noted. "Unless we burn away this trap door¡­ No, even that would take too long. You can''t brute force it, Judas?"


    "With what?" Judas frowned. "The hinges are on the bottom. They''re sturdy, these things. That''s why you need a lockpick, and that''s why people hide their good stuff beneath a locked trapped door. They''re just a pain in the arse to get past."


    As they talked, N had stood up again. Something had apparently caught her attention. She went to the fire, just as the sergeant had, and she began to run her hands through the ashes.


    "They''re cold, aren''t they?" The sergeant called out to her. "There''s nothing left of the paper burned though, if that''s what you''re looking for. Might be ashes, but can''t make out any of the ink that was left on them."


    The ash was piled rather high. The fire was set on a long iron grate, so that the ash could fall through periodically as it burned, onto an ash pan beneath. But here, the ash hadn''t been raked through in a while. The ash pan was more than full.


    She pulled that pan out, making a mess of the Elder''s firece. A mountain of ash fell through the grates, now that the pan had been moved, making even more of a mess, but N''s hands were intently searching through the ash pan. Beam joined her, curious.


    She grew impatient, and eventually stopped weeding her way through it with her fingers, and merely turned the pan upside down onto the bricks of the firece.


    "Ah," Beam''s eyes had caught the shine of metal as the ash fell, followed by a metallic ringing as it hit the ground. N picked it up from amongst the ashes, and held it up for them to see, a proud smile on her lips.


    The men found themselves nodding in admiration. Judas grinned. "That would be what we''re looking for. How did ya know?"


    "I didn''t. Just something about that old man''s spiteful personality, I can imagine him leaving a key here, within in sight, just in case he needed it for any reason. I can imagine him smiling at the thought of us discovering it dayster, when it''s toote," N said. "The ashes were cold, so to me, it seemed like a perfect ce for it."


    Beam ced a hand on her head. A dirty hand at that, so she was none too fond of it. "Good work," he told her with a grin. The displeased look on her face soon vanished, and she responded with a smile of her own. She tossed him the key.

 Chapter 257: A Counterattack - Part 9

    "Go and see if it works, then," she said. "There''s no point celebrating until we see this through to the end."


    Sure enough, as Beam crouched down to put the key into that lock, it fit perfectly. With a twist of his wrist, they heard a click, as the lock opened.


    The sergeant shook his head. "What a thoroughly foul old man."


    The others were in agreement. Judas dove in to help lift the trapdoor up ¨C it was far heavier than one might have expected, and the strain on his face as he lifted it made that more than obvious.


    "Gods! It''s nearly half a foot thick!" Heined as he lifted it. Beneath the topyer of floorboards, there was a thick sandwich of lead, followed by more wood. Enough to deflect any manner of force. It was more a vault than a trapdoor.


    Finally, Judas managed to clear it, and the door flopped open with a loud crash.


    "Now ain''t that inviting¡­" Judas said. He was the first to look down at it. Adder, and then, imprable darkness. Even as Beam held his torch over the opening, the light didn''t reach all the way down to the bottom. "Now, correct me if I''m wrong, but ain''t no one else in the vige got a cer that deep, do they?"


    N shook her head. Nearly everyone''s house had been searched as a consequence of the disappearing children. With that, many cers were searched along with them, but few even had a cer in the first ce, and even fewer still had locks.


    They''d all been opened, after much angry requesting. None of those cers were dug that deep. They were directly beneath the lowest floor of the house, to keep the digging distance minimal.


    "How are we going about this, then?" The sergeant asked. "We''re of the suspicion that someone is down there, aye? Yet thisdder runs deeper than we can see the bottom of. If a man''s waiting down there with a spear, we''ll be as good as skewered before we can get in reach of him."


    "I''ll go first," Beam said. "I''ll light the way with a torch."


    "I''d be more useful aiming down with my bow, wouldn''t I?" N murmured, though it was clearly a realization that didn''t make her happy.


    "Aye, I''d feel better if you had an arrow primed and ready," Judas said. "Even though there isn''t much ya can aim at, with how small this damn tunnel is ¨C am I really going to be able to get down there."


    "I don''t know howfortable I feel about climbing down there amidst arrow fire," one of the soldiers said doubtfully.


    "I''m in agreement," the sergeant said. "Doesn''t seem wise to me. Just because you brought a bow with you doesn''t mean you have to use it. I wouldn''t trust myself not to hit an ally firing down there, never mind a young girl."


    "Ah, c''mon, you fes don''t know it, do ya? She''s a sure-shot with the bow. She''s got a talent with her bow like Beam''s got his talent with a sword. She ain''t going to hit you," Judas said, pping him on the shoulder.


    "That good?" The sergeant still looked doubtful, but he relented. "Fine then, I suppose. I''ll leave another two men up here with the girl, to defend our backs. We don''t know what manner of things might be hiding in these walls, after all."


    "Let''s go, then," Beam said. He already had a foot on thedder. He was conscious of the time, well aware that they needed to move swiftly. With a torch in one hand, lighting the way, he began to decent thedder, rung by rung.


    Once he was far enough down, the sergeant climbed down after him.


    "I''m under orders to look after you," he exined, once Beam shot him a quizzical nce.


    And then Judas came next, once there was enough space ¨C and still Beam had to hit the bottom. The light from his torch still had yet to prate. N looked down, with an arrow ready on her bow, her sharp eyes searching the darkness.


    Once two more soldiers were on thedder, finally, Beam''s torchlight pierced the bottom, and revealed a paved stone ground. He paused, and looked up. The sergeant caught his gaze, and nodded. No one said a word.


    N drew back her bowstring until it was taught. She could hear the anxious breathing of the soldiers next to her, as they too peered down into the darkness.


    Then Beam moved once more. He leapt from thedder, to the stone floor, drawing his sword as he came out of a roll.


    No one leapt from the darkness at him, but they might as well have. "Gods¡­" he murmured, his whisper spurring the others on.


    The sergeant came next. "udia have mercy¡­" he muttered, aghast.


    "What, what is it?" Judas called out, rapidly descending the final rungs of thedder. By the torchlight, he nced at the scene around him, and even he ¨C who hadmitted all manners of evil in Greeves'' name ¨C felt a sickness build up in his stomach.


    "They''re dead, without a doubt¡­" the sergeant said, taking the lead, as he inspected three corpses. "I can''t tell with the others¡­"


    As she listened to them talk, N felt the dread building in her chest. She hurriedly descended thedder after them.


    Beam looked up, hearing hering. He almost ordered her to go back, but he held his tongue. It was a horrific sight, but N would not have forgiven him had Stephanie been amongst them.


    As her feet hit the stone floor, she could already feel the tears welling up in her eyes. There were three corpses, the size of children, rotting in a corner at the bottom of a stairwell. Beam couldn''t tell how long they''d been dead, but N could.


    She searched their faces for Stephanie''s. It was with grim relief that she didn''t find her. "These three went missing years ago," N murmured, fighting to control her shaky voice. "They''ve been dead for two weeks, at least."


    Then she cast her eyes to the rest of the children. Not a single one of them was moving ¨C nearly twenty in total. Amongst them, she saw the faces of those who had gone missing the previous night, though from how haggard they looked, and how pale their skin was, it seemed as though they had been missing much longer.


    The Novel will be updated first on this website. Come back and


    continue reading tomorrow, everyone!

 Chapter 258: A Counterattack - Part 10

    The sergeant put his fingers to one of the children''s necks. He was no stranger to war, and all its atrocities. It was not the first time he had seen children fall victim to great evil ¨C though he had never quite seen it in this way.


    "This one''s alive," he informed them, before moving on to another. "And this one too."


    Beam watched, allowing him to work. His feet were near rooted to the spot, as he gazed around the room.


    It was nearly as big as the Elder''s main house, with damp stone-brick walls enclosing a thoroughly dismal ce. It seemed more a corridor than a room, with the children lined up with their backs against the walls on either side.


    There was a door at one end ¨C a thick door, but the wood seemed rotten. With the children arranged as they were, in a thoroughly twisted sense, it seemed as though they were guards lined up in a wee of a king, as a man of great power walked his way towards his throne.


    Only, these guards showed no signs of life. There were no weapons on their hips, or life in their eyes. Even their clothes were ragged. They weren''t dressed in the clothes of vige peasants ¨C instead, it was a simple long shirt of dark grey for each of them, reaching down toward their ankles.


    There were cors on their necks. Dark metallic cors, with blue crystals embedded in their centre. The crystals looked dull, as though something had sucked all the colour out of them.


    "Stephanie isn''t here¡­" N said. She didn''t know whether that was a good or bad thing.


    "They¡­ They all seem to be breathing," the sergeant said. "But what of the damnable cors? How do we wake them up again?"


    N touched Beam''s hand. "They''re all alive, Beam. Everyone who went missing under your watch. It was only these poor three, who went missing so long ago, that we weren''t quick enough for."


    She attempted to reassure him, even as she held her own tears back. Her heart throbbed with anxiety for her younger sister. The horrors that she''d been exposed to did very little to assuage her fears. She could only be d that Stephanie was amongst the corpses, but d for no more, for it was a twisted and cruel situation that they had found themselves in.


    Beam finally stirred, and his unfocused eyes looked at her. She saw that his hand was shaking. He saw it too, before quickly hiding it behind his back. The others hadn''t noticed. Judas joined the soldiers in checking on the children.


    Finally, the one they were all waiting for, he spoke, hardening his voice, and shooing the doubts away from it. "Do we have a way of removing those cors? We need to see whether we can wake them up."


    "You reckon it''s magecraft, do you?" The sergeant asked, tapping the crystals on the front. "I can''t think of anything else that would keep them so still, so I''m in agreement there¡­ Still, these sted things don''t seem to move."


    "Oh, I got one," Judas said, holding up a ne triumphantly. "The catch is hidden on the back ¨C making it look like one big lump of metal, but if you fiddle a bit, it shoulde loose."


    "Of course you''d know how to nick a ne," one of the soldiers murmured, as he took Judas'' advice, and managed to take another ne off.


    "What? Common knowledge, isn''t it? Got to know how to please ady," Judas said defensively.


    But from the looks the other soldiers gave him, it seemed they all knew that the only reason he had any knowledge whatsoever on nes was for the purpose of stealing them.


    One by one, they removed the nes of the children, and made a pile of them. Even then, it was quite some time before the first child stirred.


    A young boy, of perhaps eight. He blinked owlishly, as though he had awoken from a long dream. And then he must have remembered where he was, for his body shivered, and fear overtook his expression.


    It did not help that the first person he saw upon waking up was Judas.


    "Ah, yer awake, are yad? Good on ya for pullin'' through," Judas said good-naturedly, messing up the boy''s hair. But that only seemed to scare the boy even further, as he pulled away, his back hitting hard against the wall.


    It took a great effort from Judas not to look offended.


    "Michael," N said, taking over, holding the little boy''s hand. She offered him a smile. "It''s okay, Michael. You''re safe now."


    The little boy seemed to recognize N, for he rxed a moment. Or at least, he rxed enough that he could begin to cry. Big fat teardrops welled up in his eyes, and streamed down his face as his shoulder shook. N patted his head kindly.


    "Dangerous¡­" The boy croaked. "It''s too dangerous!" He said, his urgent whispering out with all the force of a shout. "You have to leave¡­ It''s toote," the boy murmured, shivers taking over his whole body.


    "What''s too dangerous?" N pressed. "The Elder? He did this to you? You don''t have to worry about him anymore ¨C we''ll protect you."


    But that seemed to do nothing to relieve the boy, for he shook his head frantically, but no matter how much N pressed him on the issue, he couldn''t bring up any more than a croak in response. Finally, she relented, and in a desperate plea, she put her own worries forth.


    "Michael, do you know where Stephanie is? They took her too, didn''t they?" N asked, unable to keep the emotion from her voice.


    Michael looked confused for a moment, as though the name was foreign to him, as though the idea was foreign. And then he looked at the floor, as though ashamed. "I''m sorry¡­ They took her¡­"


    "Where did they take her, Michael?" N asked, her grip on his shoulder just a little too tight.


    "The woods¡­ The mountains¡­ I don''t know!" Michael said, shaking his head, causing his tears to fly.


    Beam patted N''s shoulder. "If they''ve only taken her, then there''s still a chance," he said, his voice weaker than it had been earlier.

 Chapter 259: A Counterattack - Part 11

    "But who''s taken her?" N tried to ask, only to bite her tongue when she saw the exhaustion on Beam''s face. She''d realized it over and over, just how much of a toll the responsibility was taking on the young boy, yet again and again she made the same mistake.


    The other children were beginning to wake up around them, though they were weak, and many could hardly move. Some looked as though a strong gust of wind would blow them away. Fear was the one thing they all shared. Even as the soldiers attempted to reassure them, even as N joined them in that task, they never truly calmed down.


    "Our fifteen minutes are up," Beam noted. He had no clock, but his conscientiousness would not allow him to runte on a promise that he had made.


    "Judas, you and two soldiers begin carrying the children out of here. Focus merely on getting them above ground ¨C the vigers will take care of the rest," Beam said.


    "Right," Judas said with a serious nod. He asked no further questions, but merely grabbed the nearest two children under his arm, and began scaling thedder with them.


    The soldiers looked to their sergeant for confirmation before they followed Beam''s order, but following his nod, they too began to move. Though they wore their badge as members of the Serving ss with haughty arrogance, and that had even been a cause for strife between the vigers and them, there seemed to be something universal about the plight of children that crossed those social boundaries.


    They moved just as quickly as the rest of them to ensure the safety of these children. With the innocent right in front of them, so thoroughly afflicted by the cruelty of the world, it was a veritable instinct to reach out and help them, no matter what ss they might belong to.


    "What of us, then?" The sergeant asked. It was only the three of them left behind, as the others set about escorting the children away. Only N, the sergeant, and Beam.


    Beam''s gaze was fixed firmly on that rotten wood door ahead of them. Even without Judas'' help, he imagined he''d have no trouble getting through it with a single sharp kick of his boot.


    "N ¨C see to the children. Bring them closer to thedder, and reassure them. We still have to find who it was that was left behind, after all," Beam said, drawing his sword. He found reassurance in its steel.


    The children widened their eyes at the sight of him. He did not exactly make for the picturesque sight of a hero then, covered in filth as he was, with that unsure look on his face. Some even quivered in fear, thinking him to be one of the enemy. It made N''s heart ache to see that.


    "Right," she said firmly, hurriedly grabbing the children by the hand to reassure them, to tell them that he would protect them. That boy, who was simrly as wounded.


    Under her direction, she began to gather the children around thedder. They were able to watch as their fellow victims were carried to the surface, and some were even allowed to hope. Many simply stared with wide eyes, as though so deeply traumatised that they couldn''t process a single thing that was happening. Many more still had yet to wake up.


    The sergeant matched Beam''s step as they crossed the long room together, their feet echoing on the damn stone.


    "Let me take the torch," the sergeant said. "If there is a fight, I''d rather it be you who has ess to both hands."


    Beam said nothing and wordlessly passed him the torch. His heart was pounding. He could feel the residue of something in the air. Something viciously evil. He''d felt it ever since he''d stepped into this underground hell pit. Rarely in normal life did one face something so startling, so oundishly cruel, that there was nothing they could evenpare it to.


    But Ingolsol knew. Ingolsol knew, and he delighted. He coaxed Beam toward further anger, even as he delighted in the suffering of those around him. ''The Elder must pay for this, mustn''t he?'' That feeling almost carried an audible voice now. It matched his own thoughts on the matter, but came honeyed with far more malevolence than Beam was yet capable of summoning.


    They paused at the door. Beam ran his hand against the wood. It was as rotten as he had expected. He tried the handle, but of course, the lock on the other side was thoroughly bolted in ce. Things would never be that easy.


    "Evil bastard," the sergeant muttered under his breath as he stood beside him. Beam saw him ncing back at the children, shaking his head. "What kind of monster goes through all this, eh? What kind of sick pleasure does one get from harming kids like this?"


    "¡­I do not think he did it exclusively for pleasure," Beam said, as he returned his eyes back towards the door.


    "What do you mean by that?"


    "Those crystals on their necks, they must have served some sort of purpose," Beam said. And he thought he knew what that purpose might have been, but knowing as little about magic as he did, he could not confirm it until he asked the man himself, or his master.


    Beam found a weakness towards the hinges of the door. The nails that bound them in ce were half-rusted and rotten. He took a step back. The sergeant noted what he was about to do, and he took a step back with him.


    Before he threw a kick, Beam nced back over his shoulder. Half the children were already gone from the cer, with the other half being steadily filtered away. He caught N''s gaze as he looked over. She must have guessed what he was about to do, for she nodded firmly.


    With her permission ¨C for he didn''t truly want to scare the children more than was already necessary ¨C Beam drew back his boot.


    BAM!


    Flecks of rotten wood went flying, as the lower hinge tore free of the door. The children cowered at the noise. Beam could feel their fear, but he did not look back to see it. Judas and the soldiers came down once again, and more children were taken to safety.

 Chapter 260: A Counterattack - Part 12

    BAM!


    Beam''s boot collided with the door once more, this time bending the middle hinge of the door, nearly snapping it. The door was beginning to cave inwards on the left, though it was still held in ce firmly by the bolted lock on one side.


    ''If you cared about the children, would you not have waited until they were gone?'' A voice of doubt asked him, as he drew his boot back once more. He couldn''t tell whether that voice was his own. He only knew that he didn''t know.


    He wrinkled his nose, as he tried to steady his blurring vision. It had been a while since the dizziness had hit him quite so strongly.


    "You alright, boy?" The sergeant asked, noticing him stagger, and noticing the strained look on his face.


    Beam didn''t answer. He brought his boot back once again, and put all his uncertainty into a single forceful kick.


    BAM!


    The door finally cavedpletely on the left side. Not enough that it yetpletely revealed what was inside, but enough that Beam could force the door back with his hands, and step through.


    Before he went, he gave a look to the sergeant. The sergeant seemed to know what he meant, for he came forward with the torch, and shined it through the gap where Beam was heading.


    Beam put his shoulder against the door, and forced the gap wider. The wood creaked, as it was forced to give, with the bolts still ruthlessly holding it in ce on the right side. Beam''s sword was grasped in both of his hands. He was prepared to swing and take a limb the moment heid eyes upon the Elder. His eyes danced with anticipation.


    He stepped into the darkness.


    The room wasrger than he had first thought it would be ¨C but that was all he could tell. That, and how cluttered the space was, along with the foul stench in the air. It was only when the sergeant stepped into the room after him that they were able to truly reveal the vast space.


    "Gods¡­" For the second time that day, the sergeant found himself murmuring that. He found himcing his fingers together in prayer at his waist, as he muttered for udia''s protection against the evil.


    Beam felt his sword lower. The readiness that he''d entered with was reced by an acute uncertainty. The anger that he''d been so ready to direct was snatched away from him.


    Indeed, they''d found the Elder, just as they''d hoped. Well, it actually went beyond what they''d hoped ¨C they''d assumed the man himself to be long gone, and it to be some servant or another that was keeping the house in his name.


    They''d found the Elder ¨C or at least what was left of him.


    The man Beam saw looked ¨C oddly ¨C a little more youthful than the Elder that he was familiar with seeing. A strange thing to note, now that he was looking at a corpse.


    He''d dressed himself in the same dark robes that Beam had seen those forest shadows wear, yet unlike those shadows, Beam could quite clearly see his face, for his hood had been forced, and a puddle of dried blood decorated the area around his mouth.


    It was hard to tell just what had killed him. Whether it was the stake through his throat ¨C for the Elder''s body was now held entirely upright by such a thing. It was as though that wooden stake had been hammered into the wall for the express purpose of killing the man.


    The point of it was facing outwards, though, and Beam saw the partially shattered remains of a boar skull, that he assumed had been making use of the stake before the Elder.


    Now, the stakes in his hands ¨C those were certainly hammered in. It was their blunt points that faced outwards. It was as though an artist had taken inspiration from an idental, or even natural urrence, and merely added to it.


    But again, it was hard to tell quite what had killed him. For there was that stake through his throat, and those stakes through his hands ¨C but there was also a massive gaping hole where his stomach had been.


    The sergeant''s torch cowered for only a moment, hesitant to reveal the corpse in all its horrific glory. But then his experience took over, as the veteran of many battlefields, who had seen men mangled and maimed in more ways than he could count.


    With the torch held closer, it was hard not to spot the strange state of the wound that the Elder bore. "¡­It''s been charred closed," the sergeant noted, both awed and horrified.


    A few of his lower ribs had been removed, along with all his intestines, his kidneys, and half his liver. A hole the size of a picture frame ¨C that''s what he''d been left with. And yet not a drop of blood stained his clothes. Nor did anything leave its perfect position. It was as though the wound had been instantly charred, closed the moment that it had happened.


    Neither Beam nor the sergeant was particrly well-versed in such things. There was only one word that seemed fitting for it. "Magic," Beam muttered. The sergeant nodded along with him. It was just as evil a thing as he had been led to believe. To the sergeant, the remnants of that magic seemed to exin the haunting evil that still sat in the air.


    They turned away from the corpse, to acknowledge the carnage that had taken ce in the rest of the room.


    The man that they''dbelled guilty, long before even discovering his body, he was now dead. It was difficult to say just what sort of role he''d yed in the abduction of the children ¨C whether he was merely the whipped dog of someone else, forced to do everything that he did. Or whether he was part of a more give-and-take rtionship, one that had gone wrong.

 Chapter 261: A Counterattack - Part 13

    One thing was for sure ¨C there was a mage afoot. Dominus had warned Beam of such men. He had warned him that they were one in ten thousand. That they could eviscerate a vige with a single click of their fingers. That the discovery of mana was such a maddening pursuit ¨C that one would see no progress, no results, until the moment of overwhelming victory ¨C and it created only the vilest of people.


    Beam wasn''t sure why such a mage would be operating so stealthily, whilst clinging to the shadows, if he had the sort of power that Dominus had told him that even the worst of mages had. But along those same lines, Beam wasn''t sure whether he could truly understand the motives of a madman to begin with.


    The remnants of the room, after all, they thoroughly reeked of madness.


    There was a circr desk, in one corner of the room, with all sorts of papers strewn across it. But unlike the papers that Beam had found upstairs, he was quite sure that they weren''t ounting ledgers. He could see the ult symbols strewn all over them, even from a distance.


    But had he not wanted to look that far, there was another such symbol strewn at his feet, right in front of where the Elder''s bodyy.


    It wasposed of a triangle, with each point of the triangle yielding a circle. It was drawn in a blue ink, that glowed even in the darkness, and there were the remnants of a candle in each of those circles, along with something in the centre, that Beam could only assume was blood, from its deep purple redness.


    "Seems as though they were doing some sort of ritual," the sergeant noted. From the book that was cast aside on the floor, Beam could only assume the same. It had managed to avoid the pool of blood, but there was a scorch mark on its leather cover.


    "¡­" He flicked through the pages, but no matter where he turned, there was nothing. Nothing except nk pages. That ¨C and the crest on the inside of the cover. A boar''s head standing atop a wooden stake that had been driven into the ground ¨C and then the whole thing was encapsted in me.


    Beam pointed out the sigil to the sergeant. The man squinted at it, and rubbed the stubble of his chin, before looking back towards where the Elder''s body had been. "Certainly are some simrities there," he mused.


    Around the rest of the room, there were simr such oddities. A rusted old dagger with an ornately curved handle. It looked like some sort of ritual instrument. Then there was a purple dust that caught Beam''s attention, as it sat underneath some of the papers atop the desk. He reached out a hand to touch it, but hesitated, unsure whether such a thing would be dangerous.


    The purple powder reminded him of those crystals that he had seen in the forest, but with no knowledge of magic to go by, he couldn''t be overly certain.


    Only once they had thoroughly inspected the rest of the room did they finally turn their attention to the remaining two bodies ¨C and even then they did it somewhat begrudgingly, having more than had their fill of corpses for the day.


    The two bodies were all but perfectly hidden by the ck cloaks that they wore. They seemed to be of simr build, with one copsed on the ground, with its head against the wall, and the otherying face down in one corner of the room.


    "I think it''s fair to say that one''s dead," the sergeant noted, as he pointed at the corpse that was face down. The legs had been cut away from the torso, and a pool of blood gathered around the whole gruesome picture.


    Beam pulled the hood back, to reveal one of the Elder''s strange servants. Even in death, the woman had a thoroughly unsettling sort of beauty to her. The symmetry of her face was perfect, yet the unsettling aura that seemed to seep out from her very pores still remained, even as her pale face and lips were covered in blood.


    He reced the hood, after confirming she was dead. A frown sat on his lips. Those women had always unsettled him. And now one of them was dead. He wasn''t sure how to feel about that.


    He approached the other corpse, expecting to find the twin. This one didn''t have a pool of blood around its feet ¨C there was a red stter against the wall instead, around the head. As though someone had taken her head, and mmed it with great force.


    Hesitantly, Beam once more removed the hood, to confirm the death of the woman.


    Just as he had expected, ck hair spilt out, and he was met with a near-identical copy of the woman that he had just seen dead on the other side of the room. A person would be hard-pressed to find a single point of difference on those faces of theirs ¨C or at least, they would have been in the past.


    Now it was more than obvious where the differencesy, for one side of the woman''s face had been ravaged beyond recognition.


    Her cheekbone had been shattered, and protruded through her cheek, as the eye on her right side hung loosely, just out of the socket.


    Even after all that he had seen that day, Beam found himself flinching at the sight. The woman had been rendered truly monstrous. The sergeant found himself looking away as well. Beam moved to put the hood back on, turning away as he did so.


    Yet his want to get out of that room as soon as possible was stifled, as a cold hand grasped his, harsh fingernails digging into his skin. He turned back towards the corpse with violence, his fist readied upon instinct, as fear pumped through his heart. His fearful gaze was met by a single unblinking blue eye, that had flickered back to life.


    A lip curled, in what seemed to be an attempt at a smile. Beam wished more than anything that she hadn''t bothered. He''d seen the twins smile once before. He''d thought the sight to be unsettling. But this¡­ This went beyond unsettling. Fresh blood dripped from her jaw at the movement.

 Chapter 262: A Counterattack - Part 14

    "It is he¡­" The woman murmured. There was emotion in her words now, for the first time that Beam had ever heard it. Yet it was a heavy andmenting emotion. Beam couldn''t tell whether it was anger, or something else, something considerably deeper.


    Beam tried to pull away, but his movement only caused that woman''s eye to focus on him more intently. "He whoughs at us¡­ Oh God of Despair¡­"


    The sergeant had drawn his sword, as he moved to Beam''s side. He levelled his de towards the woman, preparing to rid her of what life she had left at the slightest sign of a sudden move.


    "Why..? Why you? Why why why why why why why why why why!?? WHY YOU?" The woman howled, her anger suddenly growing. Her fingernails dug deep into Beam''s hand, drawing blood. He could have hit her, and scrambled away, but there was something about the madness in her eye that held him in ce.


    "Our loyalty¡­ Our sacrifice¡­ It meant nothing¡­" Those words came out in a whisper, as blood trailed from the woman''s mouth.


    Her gaze - that had fallen to the floor as shemented - shot back up towards Beam. She shivered. Her whole body trembled. "Frightening¡­ So frightening¡­" She murmured, no longer able to hold his gaze.


    A momentter, what life she had left finally faded. The sergeant put two fingers to her neck to confirm it. "¡­That one''s gone as well. Perhaps we should have questioned her."


    "¡­Would she have answered us?" Beam asked, his voice quiet.


    "A fair point," the sergeant agreed. "Are we done here, then? I think we''ve got all we can out of this damnable ce."


    Beam thought for a moment, his lips twisted. They''d certainly managed to cover some ground. The shroud of mystery that had haunted every corner of the vige was beaten back slightly. And now they had a true warning, a true certainty of a danger toe ¨C that mage.


    For whatever reason, he was lurking near the vige. For whatever reason, he was sending those monsters pouring in. Beam riffled through the papers once more, to see if there were any clues as to their purpose.


    But all he found were odd diagrams, geometrical marvels, and texts written innguages that he could not understand. Even the letters themselves, at time, were so maniacally written as to be eligible. And throughout it all, there was that sigil of the boar head, burning on the stake.


    "They had a use for the children," Beam noted, finally summoning up the courage to dab his finger in that purple powder. Despite his caution, nothing seemed to happen. It only felt like a particrly sharp hand. "Those cors. Perhaps they have something to do with the magic."


    "You reckon they were using the kids to keep those monstersing?" The sergeant stroked the stubble on his chin doubtfully. "But there weren''t that many of them, were there? I don''t know much about magic, but what about a kid could be so powerful that it''d be able to keep an endless stream of monstersing?"


    Beam nodded in agreement at that. "That is true. It was onlyst night that a dozen children went missing ¨C and we find them in such a state. Something else had to have been used to fuel the stream of monsters¡­ But then, what of the children? What of those cors? Why are they all so weak and sickly?"


    The sergeant shuddered at his point. "¡­Whatever it was they were being used for, we ain''t seen nothing yet. Is that what you''re saying?"


    The boy nodded cautiously. "We''re done here. Bring some papers with you, and that purple dust. We''ll show it to Lombard, see if he can make sense of it."


    "And the bodies?" The sergeant asked.


    "Leave them. We''ll forbid the vigers from entering the basement. Lombard cane and inspect the scene himself," Beam said.


    "Right," the sergeant nodded, only remembering once Beam had turned away to be self-conscious of taking orders from a boy so young.


    As they returned, there were only a handful of children left. N looked towards them expectantly. "I heard shouting¡­" she said. "Was it one of the Elder''s servants, as expected? Did you have to..?" Her voice trailed off before she mentioned the word.


    Beam shook his head. "No, she was half-dead by the time we got there. She had a few words to offer us before she died for good. Someone got to them before us. The Elder is as dead as his servants."


    "His body is in there?" N asked, shocked.


    "What''s left of it, anyway," the sergeant said, a grim expression on his face. "I''d advise you to take our word for it, littledy. That man won''t be moving again, nor will those women."


    Slowly, N nodded, trying to process the information.


    Judas hopped down a momentter. "Huh? All done are we? Well, did ya kill the bastard?"


    With him, Beam was more blunt. "Him and his servants were already dead."


    "Wait, what? Eh? No way! What the fuck happened?"


    "You can ask the sergeant once we''re out of here. Hurry up and take the rest of the children up. Have the vigerse to collect them yet?"


    "Aye, it''s a right heartwarming scene up there¡­ But never mind that! C''mon and fill me in,d. We''re pals, ain''t we?" Judas said, putting a hand on his shoulder.


    Beam shot him a look, unable to keep the exhaustion off his face.


    "Ah¡­ alright, I guess I''ll wait," Judas said cautiously, feeling a tension build.


    N broke the silence. "With the cors off, all of the children seem to have woken up ¨C but some of them are so weak they can hardly keep their eyes open."


    "That''s good then," Beam said, hefting one of the children up onto his back. The boy grasped at his shoulders a little too tightly, a little too fearfully, but Beam didn''tin.

 Chapter 263: The Darkest of Nights - Part 1

    "Beam," N stopped him as his hand reached out towards thedder, an apologetic look on her face. "¡­What of the children''s bodies? They''ve been missing for so long ¨C their families have a right to know what happened to them."


    "We''ll prioritise the living for now," Beam said grimly.


    "¡­I understand. I''ll tell their families what happened," N said bravely, as she clenched her fist.


    Beam came to the fore. He''d expected the vigers to be buzzing around within the Elder''s house, each of them anxious to take a nce down the hole ¨C but he didn''t find a single one of them inside, despite their earlier eagerness.


    He had to wait for Judas to pull back the heavy front door before he could even nce at them.


    N walked sheepishly behind him. No doubt she feared telling those few families whose children had not made it just what had happened. Beam felt a trace of bitterness at the thought. Though he''d not even known that those children existed, they''d still died anyway.


    The girl had told him that they''d died weeks before, but their deaths were there all the same. It reeked of failure.


    "THANK YOU!" A woman looked up, as Beam had begun quietly picking his way back down the vige Elder''s path. She was cradling her child ¨C a girl, of six or seven ¨C as tears of relief ran down her face.


    Her words startled Beam. He''d been so caught up in his grim thoughts. He looked at her for a moment, in stunned silence.


    "Oh gods, thank you," she said again, bowing her head to him.


    The others joined in now, after hearing her. There were so many of them, now that Beam paused to look. So many families were gathered around the weak bodies of a rescued child. Those axes and weapons that they carried earlier seemed all but forgotten, as theyy strewn on the grass.


    "THANK YOU!" Another woman shouted.


    It surprised Beam to hear the shouts of thanks. He expected intense questioning, for them to press him on his decisions, for them to demand to see the Elder''s body, so that they could be assured that he had paid for his crimes.


    Yet, even as they crouched in the snow, cradling their weak children, the mothers of those reunited families had nothing but thanks. The fathers looked towards him in the same way, and they spared him a nod ¨C a deep nod, filled with respect.


    The same old man that had been so pressed to raid the Elder''s house now stopped Beam and his group as they made their way down the path.


    The axe that the man had been carrying earlier was now sheathed at his belt, and the look of anger that had contorted his face was now reced by a tired look of relief.


    "Thank you," he said emphatically, in the same way the women had before. He dipped his head towards Beam. "Judas told us that you found them in the basement. From the look of them, they would not havested much longer if you had not been able to find them."


    "For finding them, you should thank N," Beam said. "It was her eye that managed to lead us towards them."


    The old man nced at N. "Thank you, girl¡­ And I apologise for giving you a hard time earlier. I know ya were only trying to keep the peace. For that to have to fall to a girl your age ¨C that I ain''t right, I recognize. But it seems I have no control over myself when ites to my family. Didn''t realize that, until today."


    "It''s alright," N said, offering him a kind, but sad smile. "I understand."


    The old man caught onto that. "Ah¡­ That''s right. Your Stephanie had gone missing too, hadn''t she? Did ya find her?"


    N shook her head, fighting to keep her smile from quivering.


    "¡­I''m sorry," the old man said.


    "Michael said she was taken somewhere, so I won''t give up hope," N told him.


    "I see¡­" The old man nodded. "Well,e and find me, when the timees. You as well, boy. I have a debt to repay ya. Half the bloody vige does at this point. Tell me, what of that corrupted Elder?


    When will he be brought to justice."


    "We found his body down there," Beam said. "He was killed, along with his servants."


    The old man''s eyes widened in surprise at that. "Killed? But¡­ By who? Wasn''t his cer hard to get into?"


    "It was, and yet he was dead all the same. There is great danger afoot, old man. You would do well to keep your axe ready, for it would seem the true nightmare is yet toe," Beam warned him gravely.


    Another man might not have told the vigers at all, for fear of causing panic. But, surprising even himself, Beam didn''t hold back. It didn''t feel right to. The vige men and women were not helpless, after all. Even without him, they''d acted for their children, and they were set on searching the Elder''s house regardless.


    When it came to family, they seemed to be a unified front, as strong and as motivated as the soldiers under Lombard, even.


    "¡­That is a grave warning," the old man said, his voice trembling for a moment as he received it. "What do you advise we do?"


    That surprised Beam. To see a man so many years his elder looking to him for advice. He found himself looking back over his shoulder, towards Judas and towards the sergeant as both men listened quietly.


    "Uhm¡­ I don''t know," Beam said, honestly. "Perhaps simply being ready to fight will be enough, though I don''t know yet what we have to fight against."


    "Aye¡­ Aye," the old man nodded. "That sounds about right. That''s all a man can do. Be ready to protect his family at whatever cost. I promise you this: no man is going to be able to take my kin from me again. Be they Yarmdon, or Ingolsol himself, my family will be well protected."


    Beam nodded.


    "N. I''m going to jog back to camp with the sergeant and his men. I expect that the Captain will want toe and check the scene out himself once he has the opportunity. You don''t need to be there to wee him ¨C just make sure that the vigers know to stay out of the basement, at least for now," Beam said.


    With a serious nod, N assured him of her understanding. "I''ll make sure they know."


    The old man listened in. "I''ll make sure they know too. I would urge you to rest, boy. You''ve done more than enough. But it seems that''s not on the cards, eh?"


    "Not yet," Beam said.

 Chapter 264: The Darkest of Nights - Part 2

    The old man shook his head. "Then good luck to you, boy."


    "I''ll be off, then," Beam said. He turned to Judas, the sergeant, and the soldiers. The men were ready to move with him. With onest nce at N, he left.


    Rather than continue down the Elder''s path, back into the vige, he merely left it, and went in the opposite direction. It would be quicker to reach the camp that way, now that he didn''t have anyone to meet in the vige square.


    The snow crunched underfoot, as Beam set off at a jog, and they quickly left the house behind them.


    The soldiers and the sergeant matched his pace well, though they immediately found themselves needing to strain to keep up. For trained men, it was a strain, and for Judas, it was a near impossibility. He called out inint at only a short minute at such a pace.


    "C''mon, you''re gonna make my lungs burst!" He shouted,ing to a stop, with his hands on his knees.


    Beam skidded to a halt, and considered him a moment. "We weren''t going that fast. Besides, the camp is right up ahead. You couldn''t have maintained that pace for another minute?"


    "I ain''t no runner, boy," Judas spat. "In fact, I bloody hate it. Running on the snow is even worse. Might be alright for a slight little thing like you, but I tell you there''s a patch of ice out here that''s gonna put me on my arse, and those kinds of falls are the ones you struggle to recover from ¨C especially at my age."


    "Perhaps I should run on ahead, then," Beam said.


    "What''s with the urgency? Didn''t things go better than we''d hoped? We sped through that, we did, we''ve barely been out forty-five minutes, and we found all the kids. It''s practically a miracle," Judas told him.


    "It would be, had we not discovered evidence of a mage," Beam pointed out.


    "¡­Mage or not, we don''t need to be in such a hurry, do we?" Judas said. "We''re just going to be wearing ourselves out."


    "I''m with the boy on this, Judas," the sergeant said. "I don''t know what it is, but something about this night''s air, I just can''t sit still."


    The cloudless day that they''d had had run into a particrly dark night. All those clouds that had been absent in the daytime now returned with vengeance, coating the sky with a thick promise of more snow, and blocking out the light of the moon and stars.


    "It does feel ominous, tonight," a soldier agreed. "The sooner we get back to camp, the better I''d say. The Captain will know what to do with what we''ve found. He always does. But here, like this, in the open? Makes me feel like amb in a mountain field.


    Like something we''ve overlooked wille rushing out to bite us."


    "Pah, so yer afraid, that''s it?" Judas said. "Never knew a bit of fear was all it took to get you speaking so poetically. But aye, I suppose I''m nervous too. So I''d appreciate it if you didn''t leave me out in the dark, aye? I don''t fancy bing monster-munch for some stray beast."


    With even Judas being bold enough to admit his fear, Beam wondered if that feeling in the air ¨C that sense of foreboding ¨C actually held some weight. Seeing the men feel it just as strongly as he did, such a thing only made him warier. He sighed for a moment, and relented.


    "Recover your breath, then we''ll jog at your pace," Beam said.


    Judas grinned. "Well, I''ll be damned. Seems the boy does have a heart after all."


    "I''m going to leave you again," Beam told him.


    "A heart, but no humour¡­" Judasined. "Alright. I''m fine now. I''ll lead the way then, aye? Since we''re doing it at my pace?"


    "Go on then," Beam said impatiently.


    Judas grinned. "Well then, men, forward march, that''s what I say."


    He began his slow jog, which was more simr to a fast walk. He didn''t make it more than a few steps before he nced anxiously over his shoulder, half believing that they wouldn''t be following him. And in truth, they weren''t.


    One of the soldiers sighed. "Damn peasants," heined. "Give em'' a hand of responsibility, and they act like they''ve been promoted all the way to Captain."


    But despite hisints, he started to run anyway.


    "Ey, c''mon, ain''t gonna be another time in my life where I get to have a Serving ss man like yourself listen to me, is there?" Judas said with a wide grin.


    "I suppose not," the man admitted with a sniff.


    Watching them, Beam thought he was starting to get a little bit of insight into how Judas had managed to get on so well with the soldiers.


    With Judas leading the way, they made it back to camp without issue. Despite the nervous tension in the air, the camp was the same as they had expected. The torches were lit, the fires were going, and the men that were off duty were eating, drinking, and joking with each other.


    Lombard was still out fighting on the northern front, from the sound of things. He was taking care to conserve the strength of his men, as he carried out their duty in their ce.


    Whilst he fought, Tolsey was left to oversee camp. A fact that the man seemed none too happy about, thinking that the Captain merely did not trust in his strength as much as he could have. But even as he thought such a thing, Tolsey reminded himself that it was his own fault. If he was stronger, if he was more useful, then the Captain would have assuredly found more uses for him.


    Tolsey noticed the returning party, and was pleased to finally have something to do. He''d been standing outside the Captain''s tent for nearly fifteen minutes, with his arms folded and his eyes scanning the camp for the slightest bit of trouble.


    He couldn''t allow himself to rest while Lombard was busy fighting, after all. His body simply could not rx.


    As soon as his eyes met Beam''s, he was marching over, a look of intensity on his face, pleased to finally be moving with purpose once more.

 Chapter 265: The Darkest of Nights - Part 3

    "Beam, sergeant. Debrief me. How did your mission go? The rest of you, go and get a meal in you. You may be required for further shifts tonight," Tolsey said.


    The soldiers saluted, knowing not to groan in front of a Captain ¨C even if it was the softer Vice-Captain instead ¨C but Judas couldn''t help groaning. He''d been dragged into as many shifts as a soldiertely, and it was starting to wear on his body.


    But even as he groaned, the other soldiers grabbed his arms and dragged him a way, whilst jabbing him in the side in an attempt to quiet him down. But it was as though they were throwing stones at a woolly mammoth, for Judas hardly noticed, and he continuedining anyway.


    "Well?" Tolsey asked, his face stern and expectant as they listened to Judas'' voice fade into the background.


    "We found all the missing children, aside from Stephanie," Beam informed him. "We found the bodies of the Elder and his servants as well. There seems to be evidence of a mage there."


    Tolsey had been about to congratte them, but he stopped himself when he heard of the mage. "Evidence of a mage?" He repeated with a frown.


    "Indeed," the sergeant took over. "There was a hole in the man''s stomach, enough to remove him of all his insides. Yet not a drop of blood. The wound had been instantly charred closed."


    Hearing that, Tolsey stroked his beard thoughtfully. "That does sound like a mage¡­" he murmured, his expression grave. "The Captain will need to hear about this. I''d imagine he likely will want to inspect the scene himself, but¡­"


    "It''s fine. I''ll take over from him again. The sooner this matter is seen to, the better," Beam said.


    With a pained expression, Tolsey expressed his gratitude. "Thank you, Beam¡­ It wounds me to keep relying on you like this, but with circumstances being what they are, we have no other choice."


    As they spoke, Beam felt the hairs on his arm go up.


    "Are you cold?" Tolsey asked, noticing Beam grasping his sleeve. He was still in the same shirt that he''d fought in, once more having forgotten his coat.


    "No¡­ I don''t think so," Beam said.


    The sergeant felt the hairs on his own arm go up as well. "Oh, aye. I''m goosebumping here too. Strange that, ain''t it? I don''t feel a breeze?"


    "Perhaps it''s about to snow¡­" Tolsey said. He didn''t feel the cold ¨C he was wrapped up well, with warm wool beneath his armour, but he had to admit, there was a stillness to the air.


    BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM!


    As they discussed the sensation, a resounding boom sted across the sky, apanied by a blinding light, that seemed like a streak of lightning.


    Beam found himself bending his knees despite himself, half throwing himself to the ground. His body screamed out in animal instinct.


    "What the hell was tha--?" The sergeant''s words were cut off, as following that thunderp, and that streak of apparent lightning, there came a wind.


    It tore through the camp, pressing itself against the sides of tents, forcing the canvas inwards, and the ropes to groan.


    Men found their drinks tossed from their hands as a result of it. Others found it difficult to even remain on their feet. The fires of the torches and fire pits flickered monstrously, tossed about the terrible wind.


    Yet this wind, on a winter''s day, filled with the promise of snow ¨C this wind was warm. It was almost hot. Yet it reeked of danger. How could mere wind carry such an aura? It was as though a God of War had suddenly descended, and impacted the earth like a meteor.


    Then, just as soon as it arrived, it was gone.


    Tolsey, the sergeant and Beam ¨C they all shared wary looks with one another. Each of them had been crouched, their hearts pounding like deer in the presence of wolves. Yet nothing had happened. As quickly as that wind came, it was gone.


    "That¡­ That''s not thunder, aye? Not in the middle of winter?" The sergeant was the first to speak.


    "I think not, Sergeant Garth. I think not," that was all Tolsey had to say on the matter, as he nced up at the sky suspiciously once more.


    The men were looking around the camp with a simr degree of rm as they, but after a few moments of nothing happening, they returned to their conversations, albeit it warily. They sat down andined of lost drinks and food, before trying to puzzle out just what the earlier noise had been.


    Most of them reached a consensus. No one understood the weather, after all, and many were unfamiliar with these mountain territories.


    "Aye, that''ll be a forgetful patch of autumn thunder. ''Cos it''s colder up here in the mountains. The thunder cloudse floating in, and then they hit this cold patch. I reckon that''s what that was. Be a bit of mountain thunder, I think. Quite a thing," one soldier said, exining it away quite convincingly.


    And since nothing else had happened following it, the other soldiers found themselves nodding in agreement.


    Beam and Tolsey and Sergeant Garth listened. Garth was almost convinced by that reasoning. But, he noted that Bam and Tolsey were far from moved by it. It was as though they were seeing something else in the happening that he waspletely blind to. He wondered if it was a privilege of observation merely reserved for the strong.


    "You''ve done the men a service today, Sergeant," Tolsey said, finally. "You worked well with our ally here, without causing trouble on the grounds of his social rank. The Captain will be pleased to hear that. Had there been friction, I can only imagine his anger."


    "It would be foolish to get on the wrong side of a boy that can deal with those Titans like they''re nothing," Garth said with a smile. "I do not think I deserve praise for that."

 Chapter 266: The Darkest of Nights - Part 4

    "Half-Titans," Beam corrected. The soldiers had started calling the creature Titans, following Beam''s own name for them, for another name existed ¨C or at least, they did know what that other name was.


    Tolsey and Garth shared a look. "And what of these¡­ full Titans?" Tolsey asked carefully.


    Beam shook his head. "Worse. Much worse."


    They didn''t want to hear any more. Garth took the opportunity to leave.


    "By your leave, Vice-Captain," he said, with a slight dip of his head, before turning on his heel.


    "Well?" Beam asked, once he was gone.


    "Well what?" Tolsey said in reply.


    "What was that?"


    "¡­I have no idea. But it certainly did not feel human," Tolsey said grimly. "Let us pray that we do not have to encounter whatever the source is. Perhaps it might only be weather ¨C that would be a blessing, for once."


    He began to walk towards the northern front, where the Captain awaited, Beam hurried to follow.


    "What a painful expedition this has been," Tolseymented. "If we have to deal with this mage, either now or after the Yarmdon arrive¡­ I fear it will decimate our ranks."


    "Do we even stand a chance against a mage? My master said that even the weakest of them have power enough to destroy a whole vige with a click of their fingers," Beam said.


    Tolsey was unfamiliar with the standards of magic. He knew mages were strong, indeed, but he found himself shivering at Beam''s words. "If that''s true, then they must be equal to, or greater than knights of the Fourth Boundary¡­ If that''s the case, then we do not stand a chance. Tolsey agreed."


    "Yet, you don''t look worried," Beam noted.


    "Do I not?" There were creases across Tolsey''s brow. By all ounts, he looked like a man under intense stress.


    "Or at least no more than you were earlier," Beam said.


    Tolseyughed at that. A weary sort ofughter. "You don''t look so good yourself, boy. You''ve got regret nestled on your shoulders. Will you be able to manage?"


    "Ah¡­" Beam felt an icy chill pass through his heart at his weakness being spotted so easily. It hurt to think about it, so he''d been trying to avoid it. He still hadn''t sorted his feelings out on the death of Charlotte yet, nor the death of the children. He''d merely been moving because there were things to do.


    Guiltily, Tolsey looked away from Beam''s pained expression, clenching his fist, and cursing himself.


    They arrived on the northern front, only to see a scene of quiet. Battle had seemingly ended minutes before. By the light of the torches on the recentlypleted defences, they could see Lombard standing there, by his lonesome, with his sword at his side ready, as he stared into the forest.


    Two Half-Titan corpses were on either side of him. Men hurried to take them away.


    He must have sensed their approach, for even though they had yet to even make it to the edge of the defensive line, he turned to look at them. With a nod of acknowledgement, he once more spared the forest a nce. He must not have been able to sense any new enemies approaching, for he turned away from it, and slowly began to walk back.


    "A grim expression you wear, boy," Lombard noted. Tolsey grimaced, knowing that he''d been half the cause of it. "Do you bring me bad news?"


    "The children that went missing have been rescued. But, we discovered evidence of a mage, and there were three dead children down there amongst the rest as well. It is not much of a victory," Beam said.


    "Hm," Lombard regarded him with a scrutinising nce. "What made you conclude that there was certainly a mage?"


    "The body of the Elder. He had a hole in his stomach without shedding a drop of blood. The wound had somehow been instantly burned closed," Beam said.


    "And what else?" Lombard asked.


    "We found some purple powder. I think it belongs to those crystals the shadows used," Beam said.


    "And what else?"


    "¡­A pattern drawn on the floor, with blood in the centre. Papers with simr inscriptions. And then a nk book with the sigil of a boar''s head on a stake, with the whole thing set on fire," Beam said, blurting out all that he could remember, at the Captain''s continual insistence.


    "Mm¡­ Well, that is intriguing," Lombard said lightly. "What of the children? Did you discover a purpose behind their kidnapping?"


    "They were all found wearing cors, with a crystal embedded at the throat. They were too weak to move before the cors came off them," Beam said. "As though they were getting the life from them drained. Would that be useful for a mage?"


    "Perhaps," Lombard said. "Apparently, we all have mana in us. It is only the mages that are mad enough to put time into controlling theirs. And when they do manage it, they achieve the most potent of power. It would not be unreasonable to assume that there was something useful about the mana of a child. Though I am too uneducated on these arts to give a certain conclusion.


    Your master would likely be able to deduce the reasons better than I."


    "¡­I see," Beam said.


    "On that note, it seems the monsters have dried up," Lombard said. "Since that thunderous noise earlier, it seems as though they''ve all been scared off."


    Beam wasn''t sure if he was the only one feeling a terrible feeling of wrongness at those words.


    "What do you think that was, Captain?" Tolsey asked.


    Lombard met him with a smile. It didn''t seem to be a false one, but given the words that followed it, Beam couldn''t figure out what Lombard had to smile about. "I dare not say," he said.


    Tolsey interpreted those words with a good degree more worry than Beam. The man visibly paled. "That bad?" His voice almost croaked.


    The Captain merely shrugged. "We shall see¡­ I have a feeling our fate marches steadily towards us."


    The man looked towards the eastern horizon to ent those words. At first, it was merely the nk gaze of a man casually assessing something. But then his eyes narrowed, as though he''d picked something out. Beam turned to look in the same direction, but he could not yet see anything.

 Chapter 267: The Darkest of Nights - Part 4

    "...What a strange game the Gods y," Lombard noted.


    At that, somewhere off in the distance, Beam finally made something out. A spark of light, like someone struggling to get kindling to take me. But if this was kindling, it was certainly kindling of the oily kind, for that spark ¨C tiny as it was, even from a distance ¨C blossomed into a me.


    "Is that a torch?" Tolsey murmured, his voice grave. "You sensed theiring, Captain?"


    "Only a moment ago," Lombard told him. "This ominous cloak that surrounds the vige seems to be dulling my senses. Even knowing they''re there ¨C right there ¨C it''s as though there''s a fog. A fog that dulls not only the eyes, but every organ of perception I have."


    Beam was not quite following their conversation. His perception wascking, even at the best of times. If the conditions were such that even Lombard was struggling to see, then Beamcked even the slightest shred of a chance.


    Luckily, whatever was out there did not seem to care about remaining hidden too long. That fire in the distance ¨C tiny thing that it was, like a flower in celebration of the horizon ¨C began to spread. It flickered as though buffeted by an invisible wind, and then another firey flower sprung up to join it.


    Where there were two, there were soon four.


    And then eight. And then sixteen.


    Soon there were half a hundred mes on the horizon, all of them marching steadily towards it.


    "The Yarmdon¡­ Fifty torches¡­ There''s got to be at least a hundred¡­" Beam guessed.


    Tolsey and Lombard spared Beam a pitying look. "Unfortunately, boy, it would seem we''re getting the entire sword that the Yarmdon King thrust south at us. That there is at least three hundred men.


    More torches sprang up at Lombard''s words. They certainly did not seem to be worried about hiding themselves. There were nearly two hundred torches on the horizon. If Lombard''s assessment of their numbers was urate, Beam supposed they were using all the torches that they had avable to them, to fully forecast their number.


    "It has been a long time since I''ve fought the Yarmdon," Lombard noted. "I find their straightforwardness endearing at times. Their lust for battle is certainly preferable to that cunning mind that has infected our enemy to the East."


    "They certainly seem cunning to me," Tolsey said. He''d never fought a Yarmdon. His experience of battle was entirely on the eastern line, under Lombard''smand. "They managed to get three hundred men across the mountain, burn whole viges to the ground, and then disappear again."


    "Ah. Perhaps. Maybe nostalgia taints my view. Indeed, these do be a cunning foe," Lombard said. There was a sigh at his words. "The world does shift, it seems.


    It''s all ever-changing. To think that it would be here, in the middle of nowhere, with nond to defend save from a lone vige, that I would meet the most grave circumstances of my career."


    "Captain¡­" Tolsey said, his voice containing a hint of worry.


    "Rx yourself, Tolsey. I am far from giving up. Stormfront men that we are, we will not cower. We had merely need hold our position for a time, and Lord ckwell''s men will find us. Be it a day or two ¨C there is hope," Lombard said.


    If anything, Beam thought that Lombard was too rxed. The Yarmdon were marching closer. He was beginning to see them now. Several ck gs were hoisted up into the air, andrge men strode under them. Beam could not see their faces yet, nor make out the specifics of their equipment. But he could feel their might.


    All of them together were honed toward a single edge, a single purpose. Their might easily eclipsed the distance between them ¨C a mile, maybe more.


    Now that they wanted to be seen, their presence was unshakeable. If Beam closed his eyes, and had to guess their strength, not knowing their number, he would have guessed that this is what a Fourth Boundary knight felt like. Only, this knight was made of nearly three hundred people. It was a terrifying prospect.


    AWOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!


    AWOOO!


    AWOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!


    Finally, the scouts blew the war horn. The signal for an attack from the east. It was a noise heard for miles around.


    The soldiers near them sprang to life. The camp simrly erupted in movement. Soldiers that had been sitting eating and chatting moments before now threw their food off them, forgotten. Their faces hardened, and their thoughts went nk. As panic gnawed at them, their extensive training took over. All that experience gathered from all that drilling controlled their actions.


    They rushed to the armoury to arm themselves. There was a spear for each hand. Others gathered bows and arrows, ready for the first defensive phase. Everyone who was off duty gathered on that eastern front as quickly as they could, behind the stakes that had been burrowed into the ground days earlier, and the deep trenches that had been dug.


    Soon, there were nearly a hundred men gathered there. Or there would have been, depending on how optimistic the observer was.


    In truth, gathering there currently were only around sixty men. There were nearly twenty to the north, where Lombard and Beam now were, but the fact remained, their numbers had certainly dwindled.


    Inside the camp, for those unable to gather spears, that horn meant something entirely different. They didn''t have the training required to respond to it. There was nothing to drown out the fear and the panic that it had inspired.


    One moment, they were being held captive in arge tent, and in the next, the whole camp had stormed to life. There was a guard on duty still watching over them, but even he was looking out nervously, unsure whether he really should be wasting his time guarding mere prostitutes when their camp was under attack.


    Greeves arose from the stool that he was sitting on, a grave expression on his face. He felt his heart pounding. "What''s going on?" He demanded. He knew a horn meant violence. He knew it likely meant an attack, but he was unsure of whom it was attacking.

 Chapter 268: The Darkest of Nights - Part 5

    "Yarmdon¡­" The guard said bitterly. "If only you had not stretched our numbers so thin, merchant, I would not need to be wasting my time here, watching over you."


    "Then go, you fool. Why are you wasting your manpower on us?" Greeves said, his usual tact gone. Days upon days of the most extreme stresses had frayed his nerves, to the point where he even dared speak to a member of the Serving ss as he did.


    The soldier tightened his grip around his spear, and eyed the entrance to the tent, seeing people rushing around. But no one came to relieve him from duty. No orders came his way. A soldier knew that orders were to be followed until the very end. Until they were nullified.


    He put his back to the merchant, not even gracing him with a response, and merely held his position, as he guarded the tent, and waited.


    Loriel held her head in her hands as she wept. She''d been weeping for hours. Greeves spared her an exhausted look. The other women around them were in simrly miserable states. The whole room radiated fear and desperation.


    They knew now that the camp was almost certainly under attack, but they could not even run from it. It seemed a pathetic run of events, by Greeves'' eyes. All these years, he''d moved so carefully, he''d kept his escape routes open. And now, when he most needed it, when the attack finally came, he was surrounded by nothing but women.


    His loyal guard Judas had been taken from him, forced into duty. Greeves had no doubt that the man was getting on well enough, but that was of no use to him. Not in his moment of strife.


    There was a dagger on Greeves'' hip. As the panic built up, and the fear began to grow, the back of the soldier''s neck as he stood guard was starting to look awfully undefended. If it was a choice between braving a confrontation with a man like that, or a horde of Yarmdon, Greeves was quite sure which he''d choose.


    "Damn it¡­" He murmured to himself, as he clenched his fists helplessly in the dark.


    "No monsters still," Lombard noted, as he looked towards the north. "I might take a gamble, gentlemen. I wonder if you will indulge me?"


    "You''re not thinking of abandoning the northern front, are you?" Tolsey asked nervously.


    "Well¡­ For now, I think it would be sensible. Something has clearly interrupted the monsters. They''ve been spawning wave after wave for days now, but for the past twenty minutes, we''ve had utter silence. I cannot even sense their presence, can you, Vice-Captain?"


    Tolsey shook his head. "But what if the Yarmdon attack through the north instead?"


    "Then we will pray that the monsters arrive to make fools of them. Though it would not be beyond us to rearrange our troops mid-battle. We have the boy, after all. He doesn''t carry the burden ofmand, but he has our power. He''d be able to shift himself ording to whatever the battlefield asks of us," Lombard said.


    Tolsey looked at Beam. "But¡­ He''s been at it all day. And then leading the search into that Elder''s residence as well. Are you not exhausted?"


    Beam shook his head. "I''m fine."


    That statement was more in regard to his energy. He didn''t feel the need to sleep, at the very least. There was a dull ache in his muscles, and a sort of fog that hung over his head, but all of that was overrun by the adrenaline that pounded through him.


    He could feel the tensions of battle begin to build. The hairs raised on the back of his neck in anticipation. Even if he wanted to, he wouldn''t have been able to rest.


    "Then we will move," Lombard said with approval.


    Beam could not fathom how the man managed to stay so level. The sudden arrival of the enemy had barely shaken him at all.


    "Soldiers ¨C we move eastwards," Lombard said, barking an order to the other soldiers that had been waiting anxiously around them. "Gather your arrows and torches, and prepare to receive the first wave of attack."


    Hearing such amand, with no exnation behind it, Beam thought that the soldiers might hesitate. By their eyes, after all, they were leaving the monster-ridden northern front well and truly open. But the men did not even look surprised. In fact, if anything, Beam could have sworn it was relief that he saw on their faces.


    They moved to fulfil the order with haste, retrieving their weaponry, as they too began to flood eastwards, towards that ever-approaching sea of torches.


    The soldiers lying in wait could almost make out the enemy now. They seemed a scrappy rabble, even from a distance.


    They did not march in step with each other, as these men had been trained to do. Instead, they strolled casually across the battlefield, each step their own, and each step filled with the same amount of grim determination.


    They wererge men, those Yarmdon raiders, just as the entire continent knew them to be. The men favoured beards heavily, with nearly half of them sporting one so thick that it made its way down to their upper chest.


    Unlike their enemy though, amongst the Yarmdon, they even allowed some women to fight. But those women looked no less fearsome than the men. Their tattooed faces were grim and determined.


    There was not a single shred of fear amongst them, as they marched forward under themand of their great leader, Earl Grom of the Summer Pastures.


    He was a man sorge that he would have made even Judas look small. He marched in the centre of his army of men, with afortable smile alighting his face, and his hands on his hips.


    A heavy two-handed battleaxe was strapped to his back, and with the fur boots and coat that he wore, he looked the very image of the northern barbarian that the men of the Stormfront had learned to fear.


    "What a load of piss," one of his lieutenants spat. He had two of them under hismand. "We''ll burn through that mess in fifteen minutes. I thought these Southerners were meant to have some bite to them."


    The Novel will be updated first on this website. Come back and


    continue reading tomorrow, everyone!

 Chapter 269: The Darkest of Nights - Part 6

    "Oh, aye," Grom agreed. "But that is why we are here, no?" He gave a rotten smile, shing his decaying teeth. "Easy pluckings. And, in the same fell swoop, we can deal with one of their armies. Genius, ain''t I?"


    "Maybe if you weren''t following your ''nose'' all the time," his second lieutenant muttered. Unlike his leader, and unlike his fellow lieutenant, he was a little more brains than he was brawn. He would have preferred to approach things more strategically ¨C but amongst the Yarmdon, the strategic approach was the frowned upon approach. It was instinct that drove the tide of battle.


    "Aye, but look what the scent led us to!" Grom proimed. He could smell it even from here. There was that encampment right to the front of them, where he wagered nearly a hundred soldiers were stationed, but beyond that, there were rich pickings. There was another food-rich vige to be raided.


    There would be women, there''d be all that dried meat and grain that they''d prepared to get them through the winter. It was just what Grom needed. Already he''d burned two viges down to satisfy his hunger, but his belly still rumbled. They hadn''t been able to take many supplies with them over the mountains. The survival of their army was purely dependent on their raids.


    "We have ckwell''s men only a few days'' ride behind us," his serious young lieutenant reminded him. "If we falter here, we really will be in trouble."


    "Jok¡­ Jok¡­ C''mon. Ease up. This here is what we call ''easy pickings''. This is only your second bit of ranging, aye? You''ve got to learn to enjoy days like this. Days of ughter," Gorm told him, patting the young lieutenant on his head, messing him up the silky ck hair that he''dbed so carefully.


    "Aye! Aye! I''m all for that!" The other lieutenant joined in. He was simrly as young, but for the size of him, and his personality, he could have nearly been Gorm''s clone. Both men were massive, both men were bearded, and they overwhelmed the smaller Jok in more ways than one as they shouted him down.


    "Awh, c''mon Kursak, you''re meant to back up Jok, aren''t ya? You know what he gets like when we gang up on him. Ain''t no fun to do it like that. And if he goes acting all spoiled again, he''s gonna mess up our supplies," Gorm said.


    It was Jok''s job to handle the supplies. It was only really he that had the patience for it.


    "As I''ve said a thousand times over, that wasn''t on purpose. Some of the grain already had rot in. That''s what ruined it all," Jok said, with the exhausted expression of a man that already said the same thing a million times.


    "Pah, this here is a battlefield, boy, you can''t be making such idle conversation on the battlefield," Gorm said, suddenly changing his tune, just as he always did. That was one of the many reasons that Jok found him so exhausting to deal with. If impulsive ever took human form, Jok figured that it would be in the form of Earl Gorm.


    But hismander was right, Jok knew. They drew ever closer to that fort. It seemed a ripe piece of fruit in the middle of many vast rolling ins. It looked like a rather respectable vige, even from afar.


    Compared to the viges that Jok had seen to the south of his own territories, he might even have considered it rich. Though he had a strategic mind where Gorm and Kursak had impulsive ones, he could not calm the beating of his Yarmdon heart as he saw such pickings fresh for the taking.


    Nothing could have excited him more. Though he chose to dress differently to hisrades ¨C he favoured leathers, where they favoured fur ¨C and fought differently to them ¨C he favoured his sword, where they favoured their axes ¨C the man was as much of a raider as any of them.


    Or perhaps, he was even more of a raider than any of them. There was a reason that he''d put in charge of a hundred men at the youthful age of eighteen, after all. And it wasn''t just because of his strength in battle.


    A few steps more, as their army streamed casually over the snow-covered ins, and they''d be in bow range.


    The first line of men stopped before it, without any orders.


    "Hoh¡­ Now ain''t that something," Gorm said. "You feel that boys? Seems like we''ve got somepetition after all."


    Jok could feel it. There were at least two overwhelming auras that he could sense, and he thought he knew where they wereing from.


    On the battlements, a distance away, there stood a particrly stern-looking man. He wasn''trge. In fact, by Yarmdon standards, he was small indeed. His hair was leaving him, as it often did with many middle-aged men. But there was a hardness about him that spoke of an experienced man.


    It was that hardness coupled with his overwhelming aura that made Jok cautious of him.


    "The Goddess of War has visited him at least twice," Gorm noted. Each of the three leaders had been visited by the Goddess of War more than once. It had been twice for Jok, and twice for Kursak, and each time she visited, they could feel their thirst for battle growing, as well as their strength.


    Jok wasn''t sure, because Gorm had never outright confirmed it, but he had a suspicion that Gorm had been visited by the Goddess at least four times. Though brutish, and impulsive, he was strong beyond a shadow of a doubt. That was why the King chose him for their harsh-ranging mission.


    No one else would be fool enough to try and cross the ck Mountains just before winter descended. Nor would any other be fool enough to try and spend the winter in enemy territory. None would make the descent so far east, only to be trapped, and descended upon by their mounted enemy.

 Chapter 270: The Darkest of Nights - Part 7

    But Gorm had done it. And he''d done it well, as the King knew he would. The King even believed that they''d make it back to the Salt Sea before the enemy cut them down, so that they might return home, with their numbers still intact, after weakening their enemy rather significantly.


    So far, it had indeed been going well.


    The enemy was slow to respond, or so Jok thought. They''d ughtered a few viges without resistance. The Stormfront dogs seemed unused to war. They hardly put up any struggle. They''d not even really had a single man wounded since the start. But nor had any army really stood in their way.


    And now here they were, for their first true battle of their raiding trip, facing off against an enemy of such magnitude.


    Besides that first one, who Jok could only assume was theirmander, he noticed a second. A bearded man, with a mighty blonde beard at that. He, Jok thought he could take. He''d likely only been visited by the Goddess of War twice, and there was weakness in his eyes. Jok was sure he wouldn''t be able to hold him back.


    Tolsey met the man''s gaze from across the battlefield. It was hard to stop himself from shivering. The might of the enemy, when within arrow range, was nearly overwhelming. A single Yarmdon soldier was worth two Stormfront ones, or so it was said. Tolsey had never paid such things credence before, thinking it unlikely.


    But now that he saw the sheer size of the enemy, he was starting to believe that it was true.


    Their spear wall was all that could be relied upon, mighty weapon that it was. The first row of men ¨C near fifty in total ¨C were positioned in between the stakes, with their spears facing outwards, ready to intercept the enemy.


    But amongst this enemy, each of them seemed to carry a shield. It was a weapon that had be nearly outdated in the Stormfront. The battles that they fought favoured maneuverability. If ever their troops were to be caught in an arrow storm, the shields would offer them no extra advantage, for the enemy cavalry would already be closing in, ready to take care of the immobile target.


    Against an enemy with such shields, Tolsey feared for the strength of their spear wall.


    "They''re eyeing you, Vice-Captain," Lombard noted. The gaze of his pale-blue eyes was fastened across the battlefield. He''d already locked eyes with who he thought to be the enemy''s leader. He turned behind him. "Have you made note of the enemy, boy? You can tell who theirmanders are?"


    Shielded from the eyes of the enemy, Beam was sat on a discarded log, waiting. He nodded at Lombard''s question. "There''s three of them, right?"


    "As far as I can tell," Lombard agreed. If the enemy had made any attempts at hiding their aura, then they would have been harder to see through. But the foes that approached them were as bold as Lombard remembered. They''d marched forward with undisguised hostility, projecting their strength to the maximum, seeking to cower the enemy before they even crossed des with them.


    "So, I just have to kill theirmanders, then?" Beam said.


    Tolsey grimaced at the straightforward way that the boy had put such an unlikely task. He looked unphased, all things considered. In fact, the Vice-Captain thought there might even have been a bit of madness in his eyes. He hadn''t seemed right since he''de back from the Elder''s house, and for good reason, Tolsey guessed.


    He''d seen such atrocities. He''d even seen one of his friends killed that very morning. Or at least, Tolsey had assumed it was a friend. At the very least, it was clear the boy knew the woman. He''d seen the turmoil on his face as he''d looked upon the corpse.


    And then he''d fought the entire day against a magnitude of enemy that Tolsey couldn''t hope to match. He''d led that mission to subjugate the rebellious Elder¡­ And now he was here, sat in the snow, shivering, as he waited for battle.


    "It would not do to catch a cold before you even begin fighting," Lombard noted, seeing the same shivers that Tolsey had.


    "I don''t want to be too hot when the fighting begins," Beam said, rubbing his shoulders.


    "Then we had better not keep you waiting too long," Lombard said, before raising his hand to give his first order. "Archers," he said.


    The thirty or so men were ready and waiting behind the first row of spearmen, each with bows in hand. At Lombard''smand, each of them notched an arrow, and drew back their bowstring, nice and taught.


    "Fire," he said, his face as expressionless as it usually was, as he cast his arm downwards and gave the signal. He kept his gaze locked on that enemymander. That huge bearded man, with that vast rippling aura.


    Their arrows streamed into the air, disappearing in the night sky. They were all but invisible, until they began once more to return to the earth, and the enemy torchlight was able to pick them up.


    The enemy leader eyed the attack with a wide grin on his face. His men had thought themselves to be just out of range of the enemy''s arrows, yet here they were, easily able to be fired upon.


    Gorm liked enemies like this. Enemies that had all sorts of tricks up their sleeves. Thismander, it seemed to him, had put extra effort into training his men to fire just a little bit further, just so he could get the upper hand at the opening of battle. And Gorm had no doubt that it had worked innumerable times before.


    The tricky enemies were certainly the best. That was what Gorm thought, as a wide grin spread across his face. The pleasure from barrelling through all the traps and tricks set by a tricky enemy ¨C there were few sweeter tastes. To render all his tricks useless, to disregard them, and then to kill him anyway. It was bliss.

 Chapter 271: The Darkest of Nights - Part 8

    "YIVGAMOR!" A loud bellow echoed out. It matched the warhorn in its noise. At that order, the Yarmdon all raised up their shields, and crouched, but the leader didn''t move.


    Gorm stood there, the same broad smile on his face, as Jok and Kursak were both forced to cover him with their shields in his ce. Jok frowned bitterly. He could hardly reach Gorm''s head, even with both his arms fully extended. And now, because of his leader''s arrogance, his own body was left open to attack.


    The arrows came thudding down, their ruthless tips embedding themselves straight into the wood. Not a single cry rang out. Not a single man was wounded.


    "You wasted your shields on me, younglings," Gorm said with a grin. "I am touched. But you need not bother. No spear, no sword, no steel will ever pierce my side."


    "You say that¡­" Jok murmured. He said that every time. But it was their duty to defend theirmander. Even Kursak was not bold enough to leave hismander undefended in open arrow fire.


    "Now, off with you," Gorm said, brushing their shields aside, as he unstrapped his axe from his back.


    "ARM YOUR BOWS! WE MOVE FORWARD!" Gorm bellowed.


    Nearly half their men had bows, as well as their shields. They were sturdy soldiers that they''d brought. The bows were as much for battle as they were for hunting. They needed some way to feed themselves, after all, whilst they were in the mountains.


    The amount of equipment each man had brought with him ¨C for many, it was a shield, an axe and a bow, along with their fur coats and boots ¨C made for quite the weight when marching, and when doing battle. But in situations like this, Jok was d of their soldiers'' strength, for they were able to do that without problem ¨C and now they''d be able tond a vicious counterattack.


    Even from a distance, Jok could see that the enemy sported no shields. It was a strategic nightmare for them.


    With the Yarmdon arming their bows, it was the turn of the Stormfront soldiers to feel unease.


    "Shit!" Tolsey cursed under his breath. "They''re smarter than they''ve been given credit for. At this rate, they''re just going to sit at range until we''re all whittled down and dead."


    But Lombard shook his head in disagreement. "Shields are not the only means one has of surviving an arrow storm, especially in a fortified position like this," he said. "Our Kingdom traded shields for longer spears many long years ago. We would be shaming the strategic decisions of our ancestors if we sumb so easily. Have the men take up position behind the stakes."


    Tolsey swiftly ryed the order that Lombard had given him. Though he was full of doubts as to whether the stakes they''d embedded would truly be of any use against such a storm of arrows, it seemed to him, they had no other choice.


    Perhaps the trenches to the front would have been better, he reasoned, had they not already filled them with oil.


    The men swiftly rushed into position. They lowered their spears, and crouched down behind the stakes, huddled up, trying to make themselves as small as possible.


    "GORA!" Came another loud bellow. They''d heard what they thought to be thunder earlier that day, and the terrifying voice of the enemymander was nearly a match for it.


    They heard the arrows whistle as they took into the air. The enemy number was vast. Their bows were even more numerous. And these men had no shields to defend themselves from it.


    In truth, though he had spoken confidently, even Lombard was doubtful of their weaponry at that moment. Spears were tools of the battlefield. Perhaps even in a siege, they''d be useful. But out in their poorly covered ¨C at least from missile attack ¨C encampment, with no cavalry to punish the enemy, they were in a rather poor position indeed.


    Though, that kind of strategic disadvantage did not rm Lombard. Not quite yet. He ducked alongside Tolsey and Beam, as they endured the arrow storm.


    Like the patter of a thousand feet, arrow after arrow sunk itself into the soft snowy earth. Grunts of pain rang out, as the asional man was caught. Some endured one arrow too many, and perished. But there were only a handful of them.


    Most of the arrows had either missed, or embedded themselves into the stakes, as Lombard was sure they would.


    A heartyugh rang out across the battlefield. It was like the bellow of the Lord of the Underworld himself. A thoroughly unsettling thing, enough to thread fear into the hearts of even the sturdiest of men.


    Greeves heard it, inside his tent. It made him grit his teeth, as he fought to endure his fear. It made him reach more firmly for that dagger, as he red at the soldier in front of him, willing him to leave.


    "Not here¡­" he found himself murmuring.


    Loriel uncovered her eyes for just a moment, as thatugh echoed. Her eyes were red and swollen from the crying. For the first time in hours, she seemed to realize what was going on around her. She seemed to see the faces of her fellow girls, and the fear upon them. Even more than she, they were afraid.


    As the tears threatened toe pouring back, she fought them. She found herself digging her nails into her palm as she tried to steady herself. Just like Greeves, her eyes found their way to the soldier in front of them. The barrier between them and safety.


    Even if it cost her her very life, Loriel would happily throw it away. She''d stopped living for herself long ago. That was why that loss of Charlotte cut so deep. The beautiful flower ¨C one of many ¨C that Loriel had been inspired to protect. And yet after all she''d done, all the evil¡­ Charlotte had still been taken from her.


    As well as fear now, as well as sadness and overwhelming grief, an anger found its way into her eyes.


    Anger arose all across the viger, as the vigers attempted to battle fear with it. A boiling pot of emotions, all of them unsure and frail, as though chaos was the only truth that reigned supreme.


    Families that were being reunited just half an hour before now found themselves right on the brink of despair again.


    A soldier had run past, informing them that they were under Yarmdon attack, and then the vigers had been left stunned. Not a single one of them moved, however.


    Then thatugh came, after those orders, shouted in a foreignnguage, by a voice that was as deep as death itself. Children began to cry. Children that had been given the promise of life once more, only to have it snatched away from them again.

 Chapter 272: The Darkest of Nights - Part 9

    "We''ll be alright¡­ won''t we?" N heard one child say to her mother. Her mother could only pat the boy''s head, in a weak attempt at reassurance.


    N stood alone, like an ind stranded in a vast sea of despair. She wanted to run home, to see her own mother, to see her brother. She wanted to find Stephanie, and she wanted to run. Her heart was conflicted, her fear was magnified, she felt her body trembling.


    It was not a decision that she should have had to make. A mere girl, weeks away from fifteen. She''d taken up the mantle more than once now, in pursuit of peace, in pursuit of the safety of her sister. She''d pushed herself well beyond what wasfortable. Well beyond what was even normal.


    She''d be a central figure in the vige just for that ¨C taking up a mantle of responsibility normally reserved for the wisest of adults.


    But this¡­ This amount of chaos. It was beyond her. She didn''t know what to do. Though she couldn''t see the battle, she could hear it, she could imagine it, and she could feel it. More than anything, she could feel it. That horrible mix of fear, both hot and cold, both the sun and the snow.


    It made her heart beat erratically, it made her clutch at her chest and it made her breathinge heavily.


    She wanted to run, but she was sure there was one person that certainly was not running. That was certainly there, right now, on the front lines, preparing to war, preparing to fight for vigers that could not even yet bring up the courage to fight for themselves.


    "Mother¡­" She murmured, biting her lip, surrounded by that sea of uncertainty. Of all the hundreds of vigers currently near her, not a single one offered up hope, not a single one attempted to take the helm and to lead. How could they? They had no experience of battle. The very system ofmand that had been in ce for moments like these had been shattered just hours before.


    The very vige Elder that should have been leading them was the same person that had betrayed them, that hadmitted such awful atrocities. The wound from that still ran deep. Then there was the threat of the mage to top it all off. The only logical conclusion was to run. That was all N''s mind circled back to, as she stood anxiously frozen in thought.


    But she couldn''t.


    Every time she pointed her feet in the direction of her home, her mind shed with images. There was a boy, covered in blood and bruises, fighting against a monstrosity that even the Gods themselves would surely quiver before. And yet he''d stood up to ¨C more than that, he''d even ovee it.


    Just before the moment of victory, there had been an instant of absolute overwhelming terror. Of such unfairness, that it almost seemed to be a cruel joke. But even when his battle was distorted as such, the boy had still rushed forward, and he''d still won. He''d even imed that monstrous enemy to be weaker than what he''d been fighting before.


    And then he''d done it again. N only had the stories the boy himself had told her to go by, like his battle with the Titan, but N was sure that the reality was likely far worse, far more terrifying. Yet he continued to fight, even when his fight was entirely in the shadows, and no one knew of it, nor did they praise him.


    She couldn''t leave, and yet something still prevented her from going.


    What could she even achieve if she went? She reached for the bow on her back, and unslung it off her shoulder. This was something that she could do. Surely, even on the battlefield, she could find her ce with a bow.


    But then, what of the vigers? Would she really be much help to Beam alone?


    She wasn''t sure. And that unsureness tainted her decisions.


    They heard another bellow from the direction of the battlefield. "YESIGMOR, DAI NAI SE!" Came the bellow. The vigers cowered once more at the sound. N felt her own heart being swayed.


    They could not be faulted for that either, for even the veteran soldiers of Lombard''s forces found themselves quivering at the might of the enemy. They were still crouched behind their stakes, as wave after wave of arrows came. The casualties were beginning to mount up.


    The only silver lining to that relentless assault of arrows was that the men seemed to being ever forward. They were intent on a charge, rather than an arrow-based siege.


    "Loose!" Lombard said, giving the order once again. In between each wave of arrows the enemy shot their way, he would have his men rapidly fire back, to at least get in a few shots of their own.


    And, such a tactic was working, to a degree. At the very least, they''d killed several men with it. Those that had bows in their hands had strapped their shields to their backs, being unable to wield them both at once. It was with a degree of fumbling that they looked to rearm themselves each time.


    Others simply used the shields of theirrades that had brought no bows with them. Such a thing was far more effective, and the majority of the forces fell to doing it. But even thoserge round shields that the Yarmdon carried weren''t big enough for two bodies of the size that they were shielding, and the asional arrow managed to slide through, wounding the enemy.


    Beam waited impatiently as the Yarmdon drew ever closer, amidst that hail of arrows.


    "Their resistance is too high," Jokined. "We''re going to lose too many men if we charge in off of this."


    He was being forced to march forward with the rest of them, despite fervently wishing that they''d spent more time with their bows whittling down the enemy first.


    But Gorm dismissed his concerns with a mightyugh. "I will lead at the front, youngling. They will fold like wet grass on a summer''s day. An arrow storm like this is only losing us men, see?"


    "Far fewer than we would be, charging straight into their defensive stronghold," Jok murmured. He was as eager to wet his de as the rest of them. But what he saw currently was not prey ¨C it was still an enemy with enough fight in it to do significant damage.

 Chapter 273: The Darkest of Nights - Part 10

    It wasn''t that he feared they might lose. There was no chance of any army headed by Gorm losing, that much Jok was sure of. It was the losses that he feared. What came after the battle, when they faced down more enemies, when their injured men grew weary and rotten? He would have much preferred to save their strength.


    Yet Gorm and Kursak were both as hungry as starved dogs.


    "This truly is and of the unblessed," Gorm said, squinting at the sky. "I cannot feel the Goddess'' love, as I normally would. The evils of thisnd seem to block out her divinity."


    At suchmentations, the mighty Yarmdon leaderforted himself with a grin, as he set his battleaxe against his shoulder.


    Jok had certainly felt the air about thisnd of their enemy. Indeed, it seemed thick with something that was far from holy, far from the Gods that they worshipped. It was growing even thicker now, now that Jok cared to look for it, at Gorm''s prompting. Like an invisible oil, weighing them down.


    "If there be evil, then I merely need to spill enough blood to wash it away," Gorm said, his grin widening. "PREPARE THE FIRST WAVE!" He bellowed.


    From the looks of his battleaxe, as he shifted it down towards his side, it seemed as though the mighty leader would be charging too. The arrow fire paused, as the Yarmdon soldiers came within range, and they switched back to their shields and axes.


    "Well, fortune seems to be with us," Lombard said, as he hefted himself back to his feet, now that they were clear of the chance of arrows. "How many men did we lose, Tolsey?"


    "Ten, as far as I can tell, Captain. There''s several more injured, but they''re set to fight," Tolsey told him.


    "Better than we could have hoped, far better," Lombard said.


    BAM! BAM! BAM!


    The Yarmdon stated their impatience with a shield cry, as they bashed their axes in rhythm against the wood of their shields, and stomped their feet. Three hundred angry Yarmdon, all within charging distance. The Stormfront men couldn''t help but shiver. The enemy was evenrger up close.


    With spears extended, all they had between them was a trench ¨C a trench that was beginning to look far too small now ¨C and those stakes that they''d hammered into the ground whilstining. They certainly weren''tining now. In fact, they wished they hammered home more of them.


    None of them truly believed that they would be unlucky enough to actually have to fight. They figured with the amount of forces mobilized to deal with the Yarmdon threat, it was basically a sure thing that they''d miss out on it.


    Yet here they were, after days upon days of enduring monster attacks, they were having to face against the full might of the invading Yarmdon force. It seemed as though the Gods themselves had turned against them.


    And the Gods indeed did watch, though the mortals were not to know of that. A woman with silver hair looked down upon the scene with sad eyes, as she gazed upon it through the mirror of her seeing pool.


    Whilst that Goddessmented, another God rejoiced. He sat upon his gilded throne, surrounded by darkness, his grin so wide that it exposed his long fangs. "Ah¡­ Now this vour¡­ This begins to taste like despair."


    The Stormfront soldiers were indeed in such a state. Outnumbered three to one, and against an elite Yarmdon unit at that, not a single one of them was particrly optimistic. As the Yarmdon beat their shields and roared their anger, preparing to charge, it was hard for their hearts not to waver.


    Hands quivered as they gripped spears. If one man had fled then, then they all likely would have fled. Each of them was looking for any excuse to abandon their duty. The night was too dark, too terrifying. The air was too cold, and the enemy was too monstrous.


    Only their Captain stood unmoved. "Any movement on the northern front?" He asked lightly.


    Tolsey''s anxiousness was more simr to the men, but he managed to keep his voice steady as he replied. "None. It seemed you were right about something disturbing their attacks."


    "Well, for now at least," Lombard told him. He nced behind him, to see Beam shivering. "Hold your sword until I give the order, boy. Timing will be key in establishing a foothold here."


    Beam nodded. He stood up, the cold getting the better of him, as he threw a few practice shes with his sword, in an effort to warm his body up once again.


    "If only the rest of our men would be so eager," Lombard said, watching him. Tolsey could only agree. New to his position ofmand though he was, he could feel the morale of their men steadily dropping. But his Captain seemed unfazed, so he too did not bring it up.


    BAM! BAM! BAM!


    "GORM SE BRUDGROLA! MEH SE GA NE!" The Yarmdon leader called out. It felt strange for the soldiers to see him as the leader. To see him as even human. Wrapped up in furs as he was, he seemed more a bear than a man. A great mountain bear, speaking the human tongue.


    "It''sing," Lombard said.


    "You understand them?" Tolsey asked.


    "I understand their intent," he replied. And then he gave an order of his own, his voice level, as though he was merely speaking to the man next to him. "me bearers, prepare the torches. Front line, draw them in and hold steady."


    He gave no more reassurance than that, but to the men who had served under him for a while, just those calm orders were enough. It served to calm their beating hearts, if only somewhat. They''d learned to trust in the Captain a long time ago. If he saw no reason to panic, then neither would they.


    That bearish enemy leader concluded his speech, as he continued to bark at the sky, waving his battleaxe around threateningly, his words ented by the drumming of shields and axes. With a slow, almost careless gesture, he swung his axe downwards, and the first wave of Yarmdon came charging forward.

 Chapter 274: The Darkest of Nights - Part 11

    Beam watched it all, from his position behind Tolsey and Lombard. The Captain had made him agree to wait, to make his presence a surprise, something that they could use to gain the advantage in the decisive moment.


    Watching the Yarmdon charge, though, he wondered whether a surprise would be enough to deal with them. There were at least a hundred men in that first wave, with enough aggression pouring out of them to take a man''s breath away. They charged in with seemingly no regard for their life.


    But as arrows came flying towards them on Lombard''s orders, not a single one made it past their shields. Not now that they were in the arms of the men.


    They crossed that hundred-metre distance between them and the Stormfront encampment with giant strides. The fastest of them broke away first. There was no effort to maintain the line. There were only howls of bloodthirst, and axes brandished, as they rushed across the frozen earth in a single targeted wave of aggression.


    They reached the trenches, and leapt.


    Gods, they were huge, the soldiers thought again, as theynded within range of their spears. Time and time again, the enemy only seemed to get bigger, as they had marched within range ¨C and now that they were in spear range, it grew even worse.


    A spear rushed out, a spear in trained hands. It pierced a Yarmdon man through the chest, blemishing the fur coat that he was wearing. The man nced down to look at its point, as though stunned. And then his anger took over. With a mighty roar and a long looping swing, he brought his axe crashing down.


    It crushed the soldier''s steel helmet as though it was nothing more than wood, shattering the man''s skull, and sending him lurching forward in a puddle of his own blood.


    With that, the battle was started. More Yarmdon troops leapt over the trenches, rushing towards where that first and fastest man had secured a foothold.


    As more spear points pierced the leading giant, finally, the man began to stagger. He gave another wide swing of his axe, a swing that looked like it could fell a tree in a single motion, but Lombard''s men were wise to that by now. With the fatal wounds assured, they pulled back, allowing the blow to pass harmlessly in front of them.


    But even as that man fell, it was hard to grow excited, for there was a whole army of horrifying giants pouring after him.


    It was hard for Beam to restrain himself as he watched. He saw a spear shoot out, and then an axe swoop in to match it. There were so many openings. The enemy was so painfully slow. If it was merely this ¨C this calibre of warrior ¨C that stood between him and protecting the vige, then he was itching to y them all.


    His heart was unsettled, as it had been all day. The more he thought about how he felt, the less steady he was. He merely wanted to solve the problems that were in front of him, to contribute in some way or another. But Lombard assured him that his most significant contribution woulde if he waited.


    That was painful for a boy that did not want to think, who could hardly stomach it any more. He''d still note to terms with the events of the day, and already a new catastrophe had been thrust upon him. When his hands twitched now, he wasn''t so sure if it was because of the cold, or whether it was because of fear, or whether it was both.


    More Yarmdon pressed against their defences. They had fifty men set up in between the stakes with their spears pointed outwards, ready to intercept the charge of a hundred. Lombard calmly allowed his reserve of bowmen to remain where they were, as they reigned arrow after arrow down upon unsuspecting enemies.


    The amount of arrows that managed to make it past shields was rtively few, but it still served to keep the enemy distracted, allowing the spear infantry tond the blows that they needed.


    Soon, nearly half of that charging first wave had made it across the trenches.


    "mebearers ¨C light it."


    And then Lombard gave the order.


    The first stage in an otherwise rather limited defensive strategy. Those starting fifty Yarmdon men were all engaged in furiousbat, whilst another ten or so were still scrambling through the trench, coating themselves in oil.


    A torch was tossed through the air. It seemed almost careless. Like a man tossing a scrap to the dogs. Beam''s eyes traced the torch. There was little else he could do until he was given the order to move. He saw how the soldiers reacted to it, almost fearful.


    It took only a moment for him to find out why.


    To Beam, it didn''t even look like the torch had made contact with the oil before it burst in a cough of me. Its spread was near instantaneous. One moment there was a torch, the next a great sh of light, and then in the third instant, every Yarmdon man that had fallen into the trench was now a ball of fire.


    And then the screams began.


    It was a horrific noise. Absolutely bone curdling. The Yarmdon battle cry earlier had been something fearsome, enough to shake their hearts. But it was in the same way that a bear caused fear ¨C it was an instinctual fear of the mighty, and of the strong. This here was something much darker, something that yed the music of all the Dark Gods.


    It was the height of suffering, and of agony.


    This same breed of men, who had been able to take a spear point to the chest, seemingly unfazed, were now reduced to howling balls of me, as they copsed to their knees, as desperately rolled, trying to put the fire out.


    The furs that they all wore did not seem to help. The oil burned them viciously.


    The Yarmdon that had made it safely over the trench could hear such cries at their back. The height of agony and suffering. Their gazes wandered, as they even began to feel the heat on them.

 Chapter 275: The Darkest of Nights - Part 11

    That was the Stormfront soldier''s turn to show their terror. Seeing fear in the eyes of the enemy, they attacked with renewed strength. They were ustomed to this kind of battle, the kind with traps and trickery. With explosives and fire iming more lives than sword and spear.


    This was the type of war that they had learned on the eastern front, where technologies were developed near daily, all for the purpose of seeing their enemies dead.


    The Yarmdon men fell easier now. Beam wasn''t sure whether it was because they''d grown weaker in their own fear, or whether the Stormfront men had grown stronger for it. All he knew was that morale was soaring. The men gave out mighty bellows that even matched the Yarmdon''s own, as they began to advance forward with their spears, pushing the Yarmdon back towards the ming trenching.


    The wise went forward rather than back, even at the risk of the spear points. But they were dealt with soon enough. Lombard''s men had faced a variety of opponents, and though few of them had ever faced the Yarmdon, they quickly adapted andpensated for the strength of their enemy.


    Slowly but surely, the meat wall of fighting men that had been pushed up against the walls of the encampment was forced back. The other half of that Yarmdon wave could do nothing whilst the fires burned. They could only wait on the other side of the me wall and listen, as theirrades gave out cries of agony.


    A cheer erupted from the Stormfront men as they dealt with thest man. On that first wave, the casualties had been surprisingly few. They raised their spears high, celebrating a sessful defence.


    Lombard allowed them their moment, but the man was not smiling. He''d kept his normal grim look on his face throughout. Beam wondered if that meant that things were merely going ording to expectations.


    "Use the corpses and add to our fortification," Lombard said.


    Tolsey looked at him in surprise, feeling a shiver. It was true he hadn''t been fighting with the man for very long ¨C but he never thought he''d hear an order such as that. Even if they were their enemy, their bodies were still to be respected, or so he was taught.


    Sensing his hesitation, Lombard''s pale blue eyes turned to him. Tolsey froze, suddenly realizing in that moment just who Lombard was. Just who the Captain that he''d idealized had truly been. He dipped his head, and nodded, rying the order.


    There was a man that prized victory above all else. Above his knighthood, above his title as a noble, above his honour as a warrior. He only had one goal ¨C to bring home victory for his general. To that end, he would use any means necessary.


    The corpses were shifted into ce. The men understood the intention without him even saying anything. One, inspire anger in the enemy, and two, with the size of the corpses being what they were, they functioned as mighty effective sandbags.


    Laying them down in between two stakes, forcing the enemy to step over them ¨C it gave further advantage to the spear-wielding soldiers.


    There''d been a change within the men, as a result of the first sh. They were cowered by the Yarmdon''s battle cries, but now it was as though they''d been reborn. With fresh blood on their armour and their spears, their hesitation had been torn from them.


    Their Captain had revealed the mortality of these new enemies, terrifying though they were, and it was back to business for the troops.


    They started to see the strength in their position. It was a fort they had, after all. It was basically a siege that the enemy was forced to undergo. With the battlements to assist them, surely their numbers counted for more, they found themselves thinking.


    And strange sort of thoughts they were. They weren''t the sort the men would usually engage in. These thoughts were foreign and fleeting. They came and went, as though thought by someone else. They seemed to be there only as noise, as a mind that was always active sought to fill in the nks. These men had been awoken, the first bit of resistance had been broken, and their minds were tamed.


    They were men of the present moment, at least for now.


    Beam watched, wondering just how useful he''d be. They''d already repelled fifty men ¨C well, repelled was too nice a word for it, it had been a ughter ¨C and surely they could just do the same thing again and again? The enemy could no longer attack, could they, for fear of the oil?


    "Ready yourself, boy, I will have need of you soon," Lombard told him, snapping him out of his thoughts. Seeing the surprised look that Beam shot him, he exined, whilst there was no one else within earshot. "We''ve no more oil. Not that it matters. They would not fall for the same tactic again."


    Now that did surprise Beam. He had seen them use oil on the monsters day after day, so he''d begun to think that they had a somewhat limitless supply of it. Thinking about it like that, he suddenly realized that it was a miracle that they''d somehow managed to coat the whole trench in it.


    The mes in front of them soon began to burn themselves out, dying down, once more revealing the enemy in front of them.


    Even with fifty corpses returned to the soil, it was as though the army''s number hadn''t been reduced at all. Those first fifty that hadn''t been able to make it past the wall of me had now returned to the army''s main number, and the Yarmdon force glowered at them from a distance, their anger more than palpable.


    Find this and more on m-v lemp-yr


    When he saw the way in which the corpses of hisrades were being used, Gorm exploded.


    "DOGS!" He roared, loud enough that Jok had to cover his ears as he stood next to him.


    The young lieutenant wore a frown. "What did you expect would happen? They''ve built this fort long in advance. They''d be fools not to have anything prepared for it. I say we ignore the encampment, and burn the vige to the ground. If they leave, they die."

 Chapter 276: The Darkest of Nights - Part 12

    Read more chapters on m-vl-e-mpyr


    "NONSENSE!" Gorm shouted. Every word was a shout by now. He couldn''t calm him. Even as his anger boiled, and he swore, Jok noted that the smile on his face was only growing. "THESE DOGS HAVE PREPARED US THEIR BEST EFFORT! WE WILL CRUSH THEM AT THEIR STRONGEST!"


    "At least make use of our numbers, Earl," Jok protested. "From the look of it, they''ve concentrated all their men to the east."


    "THEY''D ONLY MOVE AS WE MOVE," Gorm shouted. "NO! WE GO FOR THE HEADS OF THEIR LEADERS. THIS FORT IS NOTHING MORE THAN A WOODEN WALL BEFORE MY AXE."


    "A wooden wall still seems sturdy enough, to most people," Jok said back, under his breath. But he knew what the Earl meant, for he had seen it. To him, wood was a mere trifle. It was what grass was to most men. He had ceased to consider it an obstacle long ago.


    But even as he protested, he was well aware that Gorm had long since made up his mind. It wasn''t about victory for him. It was the glory that he''d chased. The trickery that the enemy had shown, it hadn''t angered him, it had excited him. He was staring at the man from across the battlefield, a man half his size, and his hands were practically itching to go rushing to him.


    Before he even opened his mouth, Jok could guess what Gorm was about to say. Kursak could guess it too, for he''d hefted his own battleaxe off his back, and there was a look of anticipation about his face as he gave the order.


    "THE SAME AS ALWAYS! A HUNDRED MEN EACH! WE STORM THE FORT! JOK, SINCE YOU FEAR THEIR STRATEGY, YOU REMAIN HERE WITH YOUR MEN AND ASSIST US WHERE NEEDED!" Gorm said, his voice booming. If only the enemy could speak the samenguage they did, Jok thought. They''d certainly have an easy time countering their ns.


    "Right¡­" Jok said with a sigh. "But there are only two hundred and fifty men," he pointed out. Already he knew who was going to get saddled with that mere fifty. The other twomanders pretended they did not hear him, as they bellowed outmands to their respective troops.


    The battlefield began to shift from there. Like a clump of dry leaves stirred into action by a breezy autumn wind, that army of two hundred and fifty separated. The men knew who their respectivemanders were, or at least, they knew who they preferred to fight under. They were not orderly as they scrambled to get into their groups, nor were they necessarily quick.


    Most rushed to join Gorm, as any sensible man would. But even those that were too slow to join him did not mind joining Kursak. He was a respectable warrior in his own right, and most agreed that he would be a capable leader one day. Even his list of in foes was beginning to get impressive. He''d taken the head of an Earl in a duel just a few moons ago.


    It was Jok who they were less eager to join. Though the man was undeniably Yarmdon, his caution and his logic did not find a home in many of their hearts, and so most chose to avoid him.


    They scrambled like dogs chasing after thest of the scraps to split into their groups, undisciplined though they were, and inefficient, they took it seriously. As soon as Gorm had what seemed to be a hundred men, no matter how disappointed they might have been, no others tried to join him.


    The same could be said for Kursak''s lot. Behind both mighty men ¨C who had now separated, such that at least fifty metres were between them ¨C was a gaggle of disorganized, angry and willing Yarmdon men, primed and ready to storm the fort.


    And then, thest lot gathered around Jok, the dissatisfaction written on their faces. He noted that look, and he merely tutted. He''d grown used to the contempt by now. He disliked it, but the boy would fulfil his duty, he always did.


    Thepleteck of ceremony was almost startling. Gorm was breathing out of his mouth in hot clouds of steam like an angry bull. He looked over his shoulder to see whether all his men were gathered. They were. Like one meaty appendage, they clung to him. Their emotions were his emotions.


    His anger, and his willingness reached them all.


    He gave a cry, and they reciprocated. But it was more than that. It wasn''t one man responding to another, or even a group of men responding to one man. This here was the action of an arm responding to the signals of the brain. They were one in this. There was no separation.


    Gorm''s aura spilt off him. His intent was more than clear, even from a distance. A military man, watching the disys from the bird''s-eye of the tactics board, he might haveughed. So unorganised, so undisciplined. But not a single one of the Stormfront men wereughing. As the fire in the trenches died down, they found their own sternness in their hearts beginning to waver as well.


    The realization set in that they had no oil. Another realization followed it ¨C that the mighty giant that they''d heard bellowingmands, as though he was standing right next to them, screaming into their ears, that very man was now leading the vanguard, aiming to spear exactly what they struggled to hold mere moments before.


    They were men, and now that their weapons were stained with blood, they would fight to thest. But they could not help that quiver in their hearts. Like the ruffling of a duckling''s feather''s. Soft and uncertain. As yet formless, as yet misshapen. But these men, with the blood, had begun to set their sights on some sort of shape, on some sort of hope.


    Their hearts wavered between that uncertainty. They''d just disposed of fifty of these men, without effort.


    "The Mountain yer," that was all the Captain had to say to remind them, and the soldier''s backs stiffened. An observer might have thought it the name of a myth. A particrly frightening story used to get children to obey, for that seemed exactly their reaction, one of fear.

 Chapter 277: Into The Valley of Death - Part 1

    Even seeming that way, it was not it. It was a sudden sh of realization. The men had fought together for over a season in the east, and they fought alone. Their Captain would sally forth at times to assist them, but it was their own power that they truly relied on. They''d half forgotten it, as they returned to the chaos ofbat.


    That boy who''d ughtered those Titans as though they were nothing more than mindless scraps of flesh ¨C he was on their side, wasn''t he?


    The change in the men''s aura was noticeable even from a distance. Gorm ran a thick tongue over his lips at the sight of it.


    "NOW THOSE ARE SOME HUNGRY MEN!" He bellowed. Shields were bashed as a result of his words.


    Jok noted it too with a frown. "That Captain said something, didn''t he? Was it a name? One of their Gods, perhaps?" He found himself wishing that he could speak the Stormfront tongue, for he''d never seen such morale on a raiding mission ¨C especially with the foe so heavily outnumbered. It was the sort of fervour that he only saw when fighting fellow Yarmdon men.


    It rmed him, for the Stormfront were cunning. It was only guts that theycked.


    "I will take that giant," Lombard said, both so that his men could hear him, but also for Beam and Lombard''s sake. "Vice-Captain, you meet with the other one. Slow his advance. Boy, look for the killing blow. The lives of their underlings do not matter. You must make use of theirck of awareness, and you must secure a head."


    At their Captain''s words ¨C a Captain who was known to be of very few words ¨C the soldiers felt their hearts steady. They were still pounding, but there was an assuredness to them now.


    That giant of a man had already begun his charge. He was like the leader of a herd of buffalo with the size of the creatures that barrelled after him, and the thunder that they inflicted upon the earth. He roared all the while, that man, in a tongue that they couldn''t understand, but with words that they could feel were dripping venom.


    He targeted the right of the eastern front, where their numbers were in fact thickest, as they bent around the curve in the fort, so that it would be quicker for them to send reinforcements had the northern front soared to life once more.


    But there was their only saving grace. The monster''s presence still could not be felt. Something had driven them away ¨C or perhaps the mage had merely paused, seeing the Yarmdon''s arrival, realizing that he needed to inflict no more effort in weakening them.


    Those were the thoughts reserved for the leaders, though, and for Beam. The soldiers left those matters in the hands of their Captain, the very same man that stood behind them now.


    A soldier could hardly stop looking over his shoulder as the Captain chose to stand behind him and his squadron, his presence as calm as an icicle, his arms folded, and is expression unmoved, even as the enemy tore through the snow at a rapid pace, and made the very earth quiver.


    "Tighten your grips. They''ll clear the trenches," Lombard said calmly. His order was ryed half a secondter, though it was more for the intent of reassurance than anything else.


    The great wave of charging Yarmdon led by Gorm only grew louder as they approached. It was a wonder that they did not run out of breath from their roaring. They all had their shields and axes ready. Some had swords, and others even carried a lone spear ¨C though their spears were much shorter than the ones favoured by the Stormfront men.


    Beards bristled, and battle cries froze in the cold air. Gorm hit the edge of the trench, the same trench that had imed the lives of many of his men, and the same trench that small flickering mes still smouldered in, as thest of the oil was slowly burnt away.


    He leapt that trench with ease. A single gravity-defying leap. A nimbleness that seemed almost unfair for a man his size. Like a whale that dominated the ocean, his bulk seemed to grant him total authority over thend.


    His feet came to the ground again with a mighty thud. He was a mere few strides away from the fort now. The soldier''s breaths caught in their throat. Gorm and Lombard made eye-contact. The leader of the Yarmdon felt his lips curl into a smile.


    His battleaxe had swung out behind him during his leap. He dragged it back to the front. His lead hand slipped down its shaft. The leather wraps were soft and grippy in his monstrous hands. Stay with the story on m v l e m p y r


    He did not even close the remaining distance between him and the fort before he began his swing.


    The men stared dumbfounded. He was at least a spear length away from the very tips of their spear ¨C meaning that the man himself was at least two spear lengths away. Unless he was attempting to summon a gust of wind to brush them all back, then his attack would miss them entirely.


    No instinct of fear thus came from the sight. They held steady. It was more than obvious that the strike would not make its way to them. They did not notice that their Captain was already drawing his sword.


    "BRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAG!" Gorm roared, putting his all into the attack. A mighty opener of battle. He loved iming that glory from himself. It was the first bite of a cooked hog. The first crunch of a ripe apple. And it was all his.


    He took a mighty step forward as hepleted its strike, lending it extra range. But massive as he was, he couldn''t close such an enormous distance in but a single step. He couldn''t, and yet¡­ What was this?


    There was a sight in the ck Mountains. A blue flower that only bloomed on the Yarmdon size. In their tongue, they called it the blue rose. A vicious and thorny nt that grew up through the face of the rock itself, as though nature had instilled it with all the properties of a drill.

 Chapter 278: Into The Valley of Death - Part 2

    The cold snownded, and that blue rose bloomed. It stayed in bloom throughout the duration of winter, even with no insects to pollinate it. And then, as soon as winter was over, its petals would fall, soft and slowly to the ground.


    For those men, that unlucky first squadron, their winter was over.


    They hardly even felt the strike that did it. Gorm would not have wished that they did ¨C he was not a cruel man, despite his barbarism.


    There was a soft squelch in the snow, as one man saw his own handnd into what had once been a perfect white. Then there were drippings, like icy rain. He saw the links of his chainmail drop after it, slow and steady.


    His blood spilt like a painting, as he saw his life in it. A wife that he''d only just married the summer before. The son that he was sure grew in her belly. A father that he''d only just reconciled with, after years apart. All the training that he''d put in, to sharpen his skill with the spear, to keep himself alive for the sake of his family.


    And then¡­ More recently, the dreams and hopes that he''d begun to have. The sight of a boy younger than him, achieving a peak of martial skill he thought was only reserved for nobles. The dreams he had of following in that path, of discovering the same recipe, and passing it along to his son.


    All of them were cast aside. He nced up. Thest thing he saw was a giant man stepping over his corpse, covered in his blood. Then, he fell down into the snow to join hisrades. All five men had been torn to pieces in but a single swing of that axe.


    Their torsos were half severed. Any extra range, and the axe would have cut their bodies away from their legs entirely. Not that it mattered to men that were already dead. The shock in their eyes was a particr vour. Gorm found that he did not mind it. It was a familiar sight, after all.


    One did not attain the Goddess of War''s fourth blessing upon strength alone. Martial skill was a necessary factor in building one''s density. Gorm''s technique of the Serpent''s Axe caught many of his foes unaware. It lent his weapon surprising quickness, a nimbleness that many did not expect from a man his size. But it also lent him greater range.


    Exclusive stories at m,v,l,e,mpyr


    Along with those five bodies of the men he''d killed, there were also two thick logs of wood, where his axe had rushed through the stakes of their defence, opening arge gap. Gorm grinned, admiring his handy work. In but a single swing, he''d breached their defences.


    "You''re a cold man. You let your men die," Gorm said in his thick northern tongue. Lombard did not speak Yarmdon, but he was still able to guess the man''s words.


    He brushed off the usations coolly, as he held his sword by his side. "Wherever you went, men would have died. You came searching for me. Now you have found me."


    His emotionless tone gave Gorm nothing to work with. He couldn''t decipher what the Captain had said, though his coolness was universal. Even with both of them covered in the soldier''s blood, the man hardly flinched. He was half Gorm''s size, but Gorm found in him the hardiness of a boulder. His smile widened, his grin delighted.


    The giant had made use of his strength, and he had cracked the nut that was the Stormfront''s defence. In but a single move, he had made up for the loss of those first fifty men. It was an act befitting of their leader. A man entrusted by the King. Whatever battlefield he was on, wherever Gorm went, the tides would turn in his favour.


    His men rushed after him, like the unforgiving current of the sea. They rushed past Gorm towards the gap he had created. He felt a rush of annoyance at that. He wanted to duel this man alone. He wanted to take that head himself. He wanted to reach a hand towards that frozen heart and force fear and blood through it.


    But his men knew him better than that. They rushed towards the gap, but they did not get in the way of his kill. They rushed to the right of the Captain, and towards the left.


    Gorm heard something shouted in the Stormfront tongue, as men began to move, rushing to fill the gap.


    They were toote though, already four men had made their way inside. Four of the most vicious men at that. All among the Yarmdon knew that they who led the charges, who ran the fastest ¨C they were the most dangerous. Or so it was assumed.


    They were a step too close to the Captain, though. Their purposeful ignoring of the danger only brought them closer to their demise.


    Gorm shook his head. How could they not see it? To him, it was as obvious as frail ice. Stepping into that zone of death unprepared, it would only bring blood.


    More red spilt, joining the canvas that Gorm had created earlier. Lombard gifted the dead with the blood of their enemies ¨C and with the size of the Yarmdon, that happened to be a hell of a lot of it.


    Whereas Gorm''s de was overwhelming, and mighty, Lombard''s was cunning and efficient. His sword only made the slightest of movements that it needed to kill the foe.


    A man''s beard was left half trimmed. The hairs of it slowly drifted down towards the ground. The man noted the wound to his throat but a momentter. He gagged and his fingers scrambled to reach for it. His knees buckled, and he went to the ground in a mighty pile, copsing through the cloud of falling hairs.


    The man next to him felt his shield slip from his hand, but it was more like his hand had slipped from his arm. Then he too felt that heat around his neck, like the sting of a strong liquor. He smiled as he felt it, imagining drinking it in the halls with his Gods. The life faded from him before the strength did from his body. He copsed atop that other man.

 Chapter 279: Into The Valley of Death - Part 3

    And then a strike to the liver and sword speared through the heart. In an instant, there was a pile of corpses.


    Enjoy stories on m_v lem|p-yr


    It didn''t do much by itself, but it served to plug that gap that Gorm had created, to stem the tide of the angry flowing river that he''d sent towards Lombard.


    With those men dead, spears made it in time to plug the gap. Two squadrons arrived, not needing Lombard''s orders. They set themselves up on either side of him.


    "To my rear," he corrected them. "Deal with any stragglers that get through. That giant has a range of three spearlengths ¨C stay well outside of it."


    The sergeants nodded and directed their men as they were told.


    The whole wave of Yarmdon soon came crashing down, all of them attempting to spill through the gap.


    "LEAVE SOME BLOODY ROOM! THERE''S PLENTY OF WALL TO ATTACK!" Gorm bellowed at them. There was a dy at the order. Far more than when Lombard had given his. But such was the trade-off. For agging discipline and a slow chain ofmand, the Yarmdon had an adaptability that was more akin to water.


    Each man was a raging torrent of the same desire for glory that afflicted them all.


    The men began to spread out. A few went further to the right, where the Stormfront men were thinner, but they were few indeed. As long as the men there were matched, they wouldn''t rush in to join them. There was no glory to be had in outnking the enemy. The Gods would not delight in that.


    The honour was to be had in the proving of strength, in meeting the enemy head-on. Looking for a worthy opponent and then oveing him. With that, most went to the left, shing into the wall of spears and stakes that had managed to repel their brethren before.


    Without the fire to chase the enemy off though, things were different. The Yarmdon were able to settle in and make use of their strengths. Even just the psychological advantage of the fire was something significant. Now, the Stormfront men were like castles of sand trying to hold fast against the relentless tide of the sea.


    The Yarmdon men were strong individually, that much was true. They were at least doubly as strong as the Stormfront men. But now they were being forced to deal with the bulk all at once.


    The only saving grace were those stakes that Lombard had ordered forced into the ground, and the trenches, and then the bodies that they''d piled up. They all served to stem the flow of the Yarmdon assault, to limit the number of men that they could send in one area. At most, three or four could fight in each gap without getting in each other''s way. That was enough for the Stormfront men to deal with.


    Their points went straight for the hearts of their enemies, and their throats. They''d been trained in such efficient killing, following their Captain''s philosophy.


    But even as they stabbed and speared and drove the enemy back at times, it was still hardly enough to finish them. Each of those men fought as though there were nine lines they had that needed to be taken. It was only with particrly grievous wounds that the soldiers could halt them.


    As Gorm made his attack, so too did Kursak. In much the same way, he led by the front with his two-handed battleaxe. He leapt the trench, just as his leader did, and he went rushing forward, just like Gorm.


    From the way he bellowed, to the way he walked, that young man of twenty sought to imitate their leader. It was only in his shaven head that they differed, that and their height. No one could truly match Gorm in height.


    It was Tolsey who was forced to meet Kursak''s attack. Reying the same scene that was happening on the other side of the battle, the two men stood and faced off against each other. Kursak, an angry and bloodthirsty bear, whereas Tolsey was more like a hardy moose. Unwilling to be pushed around, and with a strength of his own ¨C but he was unsure of how to use it as of yet.


    "CLEAR THE WAY!" Tolsey shouted urgently. He felt the same killing intent from Kursak that Lombard had felt from Gorm. He barked an order, rushing his men free of the danger zone.


    Kursak''s axe was already whipping behind him. Here too, his style was different from Gorm. He couldn''t emte Gorm''s style ¨C few could emte anyone''s style. It was known among the men of the Yarmdon that the war Goddesses'' cultivated different mes, and she hammered different weapons. It was their task to find which weapon best fit their hand.


    For Kursak, it was pure brute strength. Not strength belied by a deceptiveness, like Gorm, but merely the strength to split a mountain in two ¨C or so, that was what his style aimed at.


    The men retreated under Tolsey''s direction, and an attack came sting through where they were just a moment before. The chunks of the severed stakes went flying, as Kursak easily cut through them.


    He gave a heartyugh, seeing the retreating backs of the Stormfront.


    "COWARDS!" He chuckled. "WHO ARE YOU, YELLOW HAIR, TO STAND HERE WHEN YOUR ALLIES FLEE?"


    He pointed his axe at Tolsey as he spoke. Tolsey frowned, not understanding a word, but he could still make out the unbridled aggression.


    "A COMMANDER, ARE YOU NOT? I SENSE IT IN YOU. THERE IS A DUEL TO BE HAND THEN! OFFER ME YOUR HEAD!"


    Tolsey had long since drawn his sword from his sheath. His gaze was pointed towards Kursak''s fur-covered feet. He knew as soon as the man took a step towards him, danger would ensue.


    Weaker than Gorm though he was, Kursak was a terrifying threat in his own right. The men did not slow as he slowed. They did not yet afford him that level of respect ¨C they knew they could slip through the gap he created, without receiving too many harsh words for their actions.

 Chapter 280: Into The Valley of Death - Part 4

    A stream of them slipped towards Tolsey. Kursak said nothing. It seemed the men were eyeing the soldiers that awaited beyond him, as they stood in clusters, with their spears facing forwards, and violence in their eyes.


    One man, though, changed his course at thest second. He went for a surprise attack. He came thundering at Tolsey from the side, his axe swung from his hip, raising upwards in a vicious arc, aiming for Tolsey''s head.


    Kursak bellowed his dismay. "YOU DOG! THAT WAS MY KILL!"


    But the young Yarmdonmander need not have worried. Inexperienced though Tolsey was, he was still a knight. Before that the man could evenplete his strike, Tolsey''s training had kicked in, as he sliced through the man''s hand, and then cleaved down through his shoulder.


    The wounds he left on the body of the giant were evidence of udia''s blessing, a man that had stepped through the Second Boundary. They were vicious things. His de drove all the way down straight through the vicle and through rips and down towards the centre of the man''s chest.


    At the sight, Kursak put a hand to his belly and gave a heartyugh, even as he saw the corpse of hisrade fall to the floor. He had no words of remorse for him, or even anger. Instead, he merely shook his head, thinking that was exactly what the man had deserved.


    He had been a joker in life, after all, that very same man. He would cause all sorts of trouble at their encampment. He was like a monkey controlling the body of a man. Whenever there was an opportunity for mischief, he would be causing it. And now he had died causing mischief. Kursak had liked the man a great deal.


    Yet he smiled at his passing. The man had died the exact same way as he had lived. A purer life was hard to imagine. He knew the Gods would rejoice at his return to their hall.


    "A COMMANDER WOULD NOT BE THAT WEAK, AFTER ALL," Kursak shouted. He had to really force his shout to have any chance at matching Gorm. After a battle, his voice would be hoarse for days from the strain.


    He nced down the wall of the fort. Already Gorm''s men were streaming up towards the centre of the fort, applying pressure. He could see it in the way they were fighting, that it was only a matter of time before the walls fell. There was the aggression to their movements that always came when they had the advantage.


    That was something Gorm had taught him. To see the tide of battle in the bodynguages of the men ¨C and the tide was certainly in his favour. Kursak realized that the battle would soon be over if he left it all to Gorm''s men. He barked an order of his own, as his battalion continued to rush into his gap.


    "MARCH TOWARDS THE CENTRE! DON''T LET GORM''S MEN STEAL ALL THE KILLS!" He shouted. This time, despite not knowing hisnguage, Tolsey could guess what he was saying, for the flow of men that had been running behind Kursak towards the gap that he''d created, they now began to shift their direction towards the rest of the walls.


    Some managed to leap over the trenches, whilst others fell in it, burning their feet on the still flickering mes. But unless a man slipped, those mes were no longer fatal. They were merely the hot breath of a demon, urging a man towards greater speed.


    Seeing the tide of battle as he had, it urged Kursak towards greater urgency. If he didn''t barrel through thismander with urgency, then he would be missing out on plenty of kills himself. And then when it came time to raid the rest of the vige, he would have no leg to stand on in iming his spoils, for his contributions would have been too minimal.


    Experience the saga at m-vlem|p-yr


    He let the head of his axe rest in the muddy snow, as he marched forward, dragging it behind him, an intense look on his face. He would have liked to enjoy his duel with the yellow-haired man more, to delight in staining his beard red, but there was no time.


    With the crunching of boots in the snow, and the grating of his axe against the frozen ground beneath it, Kursak stepped into range. He did not stop there either. There was a saying, amongst the Yarmdon. ''Glory is to be seized at a run''. It encouraged them forward and faster, onto the next thing, and then onto the next.


    It was the greed that motivated a whole nation, and kept it as a stronghold of war for hundreds of years.


    He allowed his strides to build into a jog, as he drew closer. A little strength in the shaft of his axe, and the head began to lift off the ground. The blonde-hairedmander that he was facing off against did not move. Kursak felt his lips curl into a smile. They always did, when he had an opportunity to unleash his strongest strike.


    He did not rush it. He allowed it to build in time with the building of speed in his legs. Only once he was on the very edge of his axe''s range did he allow the strike to heft up past his waist. Then he twisted his hips through it, and angled his arms. He barely needed to keep his eyes on his opponent now.


    He knew whatever stood in front of him, whatever was foolish enough to stand against his massive arc, all of it would perish and shatter.


    There was another saying amongst the Yarmdon: ''Death arrives with the hunger of a crow.''


    They saw the crows turn on themselves in the Northern Territories. They saw how when the cold truly began to grow, the crows changed, as though haunted by a demonic spirit. The bonds that they had forged soon shattered, as true hunger took over, and they sought each other''s flesh.


    So too did the Yarmdon see that on the battlefield. The same men for whom victory came again and again, with breathless ease. The men who possessed boundless talent, whose futures seemed brightest, who seemed as though they possessed all the invincibility of the Gods. They too would perish, just as quickly as the rest of them and just as suddenly.


    One moment, Kursak had levelled his blow, feeling that sweet tension leaving his body, and the next, there was the face of a boy up next to his, and the de of a sword levelled at his throat.


    He saw the eyes of many within a single face. There was green and blue ¨C the eyes of a boy. The strong eyes of a child that had learned to find meaning in struggle and in suffering. Then, he saw the eyes of gold. Those eyes¡­ Those eyes that terrified him, even more than the Death Temples, with their horrifying Gods, and their horrifying servants.


    This here was the gaze of all of them at once, a deep and overwhelming despair.


    The boy''s lips didn''t move, but Kursak could swear he heard a voice cackling, a heartyughter booming louder than even Gorm.

 Chapter 281: Into The Valley Of Death - Part 5

    Eternity rang out. That was thest glimpse of the mortal realm that Kursak was allowed. Infinity condensed into a single moment. He felt the bite of steel as it dug into his neck. He felt the flickerings of fear that came with it. More than anything though, what he felt was an overwhelming disappointment.


    If he had time to curse, there was only one word that he would have said. ''Damn.'' It would have fallen from his lips in a darkmentation, as his life passed into significance. As his dreams that had once seemed so solid and certain became sand, and then water, and then air, before disappearing entirely into the void.


    eptance was the emotion his body searched for, as it felt its death, but it was only fear that returned. Kursak believed in his Gods. But more than anything, he believed in himself. Now, as he lostplete control, the stability of his mind shattered.


    The de passed into his throat. He could no longer speak. He could feel the pain, but he weed it. He feared whaty beyond the pain now. The darkness that had begun to seep in at the corners of his vision.


    The eyes that looked at him, he feared them too. They demanded something of him, even as his life left him. He wondered what that demand was. He puzzled over it, with thest shred of consciousness that he had.


    It was only as his knees buckled, and he felt the de finally meet his spine that Kursak thought he understood. Those eyes, that boy, with a sudden speed of gravity as he understood their intent, his knees mmed into the ground, for that was what the boy had asked of him ¨C it had demanded that he kneel.


    Kursak''s head separated from his shoulders, and spun through the air. With all the strength of thest few embers of a dying fire, Kursak''s consciousness raged on, whilst it still could. His lips twisted in a maddened smile. He would haveughed if he could have.


    A moment ago, he thought he''d made a mistake, that he should have noted that boysing.


    And now, as his eternity ended, he realized his mistake had begun long before that. It began the very moment that he crossed the mountains. He''d unknowingly wandered into another man''s destiny.


    With hisst shred of consciousness, he heard a bellow mourn his passing.


    "KURSAAAAKKKKKK!!" A great and mighty roar, something that could shift mountains. That was what belonged in ces like these, Kursak realized. He and that boy. There was a hardness of heart to them, a blinding force ¨C like the current of a river ¨C that seemed to empower them. It was only they that could dare to have hope on a battlefield.


    Beam finished his swing without a shred of emotion. The Yarmdon nearest him had frozen, as the body of their mighty youngmander fell down into the snow with a thud. A good many of them had broken through that gap that had been made, and they were already wreaking havoc.


    He turned on his foot to confront them. Tolsey caught a look of his eyes then, and shivered. A streak of light shot past him, before he could realize what had happened. He did not need to turn around to put a picture to the noises that he heard. More men were dying, more lives were being taken.


    Tolsey''s eyes fell upon the mighty battleaxe that his opponent had gripped. One of the man''s mighty hands still gripped tightly to its handle, even as hey dead in the snow. Tolsey had felt the man''s power in his strike, a power that far eclipsed his own. And now he saw the man''s body, devoid of life.


    He found his fingers reaching for his own neck, to ensure that it was still attached.


    It had brought a shock to his heart, to see the powerful dealt with so easily. The mighty dispatched with no more fanfare than an ordinary man. It brought a shiver down the spine of that youngmander, for he knew he was weaker than that man. Yet here he was, still alive, at least for a moment.


    An axe neared his face as he stood there. Tolsey''s sword hand twitched, and reacted of its own ord. He cut through several fingers, just enough to redirect that weapon. He grabbed the arm that wielded it, and guided it off to the side. Then he brought his shoulder in, and barged the man with all his might in the chest.


    He felt his ribcage give and shattered. Tolsey''s sword came to finish the job, as it bit in, halfway through the neck. Tolsey watched him fall into the snow, a proud emptiness having ovee him.


    It was just like that, he realized. The ease with which he, a knight of the Second Boundary, dealt with foot soldiers, it was just like that for the rest of them ¨C the leaders in this battle. He was no more than a pebble to them. They could end his life in a single instant. It was a shocking realization.


    He dared to turn his head. The boy had finished his work already. Nearly twenty corpses were piled up in the area. The soldiers shouted his name with glee, as they raised their spears, as they were covered as much in blood as he.


    "MOUNTAIN SLAYER!"


    "MOUNTAIN SLAYER!"


    They roared.


    Tolsey found himself roaring with them, maniacally. Finally, after all the time spent on a battlefield, he felt what it was to be a soldier, well and truly. To be able to die at a single moment. To know one''s vulnerabilities so well, to acknowledge just how sudden death woulde, and to men even mightier than he¡­ To know all that, and yet to fight anyway. It felt like a fire in his belly.


    Dive into the story on m|vl em pyr


    Something that sought to melt the ice of mortality, and to im glory in that single moment for all eternity.


    Beam listened to their shouts. His fingers on his sword didn''t feel like his. Since the battle had started a tension pervaded the air, one that distorted his senses. He hadn''t felt this much bloodlust before. This great swell of emotions. Nor had he felt the aura of so many mighty men ¨C it was only monsters he was used to.


    Those, and the aura of his master.


    The deep fatigue that he had built up through the day augmented his limbs and gave them a numbness. A thick darkness had begun to creep across his vision. With every new dead body that fell, it came on more thickly.

 Chapter 282: Into The Valley Of Death - Part 6

    With the killing of that man, that Yarmdonmander, there had been such a swell of ecstasy that he''d hardly been able to contain himself. Panic hovered where that emotion arose, for Beam knew it did not belong to him. Ingolsol once more arose to the surface, and delighted.


    "Despair¡­" He heard that word over and over as a whisper. He''d shouted it the moment Beam had imed Kursak''s life. The sweet shock that had been in the young man''s eyes. The regret, and those faded dreams. Ingolsol had drunk them in greedily. He''d ached in irritation as they were forced to wait.


    And now that same urging pushed him towards the other side of the battlefield, where the roars of an angry giant bellowed out once after the other.


    "KURSAKKKK! YON VIG! KURSAAAAAAAAAAK!"


    They came again and again, like the repeated gusts of a storming wind. Beam did not understand thenguage, but he read a challenge from it. There was a mighty man over there ¨C he wanted to test his sword against him.


    But as his feet moved in that direction, Beam felt a hand on his shoulder. His sword was already moving, even before his head turned back.


    "Tolsey¡­" He realized, his de stopping before the man''s neck.


    "Hold the position, boy," Tolsey said. "We will copse on this side without you. They still have anothermander in reserve. He''s likely to join the fray now."


    Before he could make out the meaning in Tolsey''s words, Beam felt the same emotion that he''d been feeling all day. That dreadful emotion of uncertainty. It beat an irregr rhythm on a deep drum, one that purposefully was out of sync with his heart. All the regrets of the day that he''d failed to reconcile assaulted him. It was all he could do to keep from falling over.


    Ingolsol''s attack on his consciousness was relentless. It was only then that Beam properly noticed it, as he felt his feet stagger. He grasped at his chest. His heart hurt.


    "Woah," Tolsey said, holding him up with an arm. Beam drew nofort from the man''s touch, for he could feel the same uncertainty in Tolsey that felt in himself. Yet you would not know it by looking at Tolsey''s face ¨C though his eyes were feverish, they seemed firm and resolute.


    Beam was failing to reach such an even keel. The deep regrets of all that he had failed to do, all that he had failed to control, and then the of darkened despair that Ingolsol demanded he rain down over everyone. And udia too ¨C she was just as bad. She echoed his own expectations, that he serve as a shield for those in the vige, that he repel their attack.


    "Damn it¡­" He said, digging his fingernails into the flesh of his palm to calm himself. He thought that he''d sorted such thoughts out a long time ago. He wondered if it was as his master said. That the fragments of Ingolsol and udia in him, they were growing stronger just as he was. Perhaps that was why old conclusions no longer held the merit that he needed from them.


    They were no longer enough to keep him inmand of his own mind.


    For now, he dared to ignore it, and merely focused harder on the scene in front of him. He put a hand on the frosty edge of one of the many stakes, and he leaned on it, gathering his breath. Then he squinted towards where Tolsey had pointed, towards thatmander, lying in wait, with at least fifty men under hismand.


    With Kursak dead, there seemed to be nearly seventy more who were hovering near the fort with uncertainty. They''de to a halt, just before crossing the trench, and were gazing in dismay at the headless corpse of theirmander.


    Beam smiled bitterly at that. He could feel their fear wafting off them. He felt it so strongly that he could almost see it. Like a hazy ck smoke ¨C but though hazy and unsure, he felt like he could grasp it, and crush it deep within his palm, using it as a rope to control their movements.


    He was tempted to. He felt the power in it. But as he reached towards that power, he felt his sense of self shrinking. Fear assailed him, and suddenly, he stopped. He dared not let Ingolsol''s hold grow on him any more. His senses returned to the physical things ¨C the things that he had been able to track all his life.


    "JOK! KURSAK VAL LEMIDEN! NIVAGARD! NIVAGARD!" Such words ran across the battlefield, apanied by the ng of steel. With them, it was as though someone had thawed the icy shock that had frozen the Yarmdon in ce. A voice called out to respond to it.


    "NOVA!" Came the reply from Jok, but what he really meant was "about bloody time."


    He began to give his orders immediately.


    "FALL BACK!" He shouted. The men that had been hanging around without purpose near the edge of the trench fell back only too willingly, leaving the bodies of the dead behind. Even from a distance, Jok had seen Kursak fall. Even now, he could see where his bodyy.


    The scene had struck a bitterness in him. It was enough to wipe the smile off his face, the smile that usually came with the battle thrill. His eyes were on that boy that had appeared from nowhere. The boy that the enemymander had evidently been trying to hide.


    "To be able to kill Kursak in just one swing¡­" Jok found himself muttering. Even if was a surprise attack¡­ No. Surprise attacks could not ovee an overwhelming difference in strength. If that boy had done the same attack on Gorm, then he would have been split in two before he could even begin to swing his sword.


    Besides, Jok had felt it. He''d felt the boy''s aura. It was aplicated thing, unveiled for even a moment. He wondered if the enemy felt it ¨C if they knew its dark and twisted depths. If they did, he wondered why they were fighting alongside him.


    Whatever the reason, Jok knew they were in trouble.


    Gorm was locked in battle with that Stormfrontmander, but he didn''t look as though he was going to make his way past him anytime soon.


    Discover worlds on m-v le-mpyr


    It was clear to Jok that Gorm was evidently the stronger man, but the distance between them was not enough for the fight to be easy. The Stormfrontmander was holding on with all the resilience of a weasel, Jok thought ¨C and with amander that favoured tricks and strategy rather than brute strength, that likely meant he was winning.

 Chapter 283: Into The Valley Of Death - Part 7

    That was what Kursak''s death revealed to Jok anyway. The enemy had allowed them ground and opportunity, in return for one of theirmander''s lives. Jok had no doubts as to which one was the more valuable, and he twisted his lips in annoyance from the thought.


    They now only had two Blessed Warriors, whereas the enemy had three. It was enough to put their numerical advantage into question.


    "What to do, though¡­" Jok murmured to himself, as the men flooded back from the frontlines, and his ranks swelled. He only needed to look at the boy from across the battlefield, and he more than realized that he didn''t favour a direct engagement. Especially not when he had another Blessed Warrior with him.


    His eyes drifted from the boy towards the other side of the battlefield. There was his victory condition -  Gorm ¨C as it always was. It was only a matter of time before their giant leader forced the enemy back, or slew theirmander. That was time that Jok needed to buy for them.


    "Archers," Jok decided. The men that had just joined him looked up in surprise. They were unfamiliar with his warring methods. After the initial peppering that they always did at the start of battle, it was rare for them to return to their bows, especially after having already done the initial charge.


    Jok ignored the confused looks. His own men were already heeding the order. The neers rushed to join them, finding the bows and arrows that had been left behind before they''d begun their charge and arming themselves with them.


    "Fire," Jok said calmly. They were well within range of the enemy. With a hundred and twenty men under hismand ¨C each of them managing to find a bow, for there were plenty of them strewn about ¨C the cloud that they unleashed was nothing if not menacing. Find stories at m-vl-em-pyr


    Beam nced up at where he thought it to be. The arrows had disappeared into the night sky the moment that they''d been unleashed.


    "TAKE COVER!" Tolsey bellowed, pulling Beam down with him. The rest of the men ¨C who had been cheering just moments before ¨C started to dive down back behind the stakes.


    A few cries rang out, as the unlucky were pierced by arrows, and like that, just a few more lives were taken, just as they had been earlier. Tolsey moved to stand up again, half expecting the Yarmdon to once more draw their swords, and once more go for the charge.


    But this enemy was different. Unlike Kursak, Jok had no qualms about ying the tactical battle. He admired Gorm, their leader, but he did not seek to be him. For one, he did not have the man''s height, nor his strength. To seize the glory that Jok dreamed of, he''d realized long ago that it was Jok he needed to be, no one else. It was his strengths that he had to y to.


    "Fire," Jok said again, his lips beginning to curve back into a smile. He could see the look of panic on that blondemander''s face. The man flung himself to the dirt once more.


    The Stormfront men had been cheering when they saw the Yarmdon retreat. They weren''t cheering now, Jok noted.


    More screams ran out as arrows embedded themselves into the earth next to Beam. He felt a sudden sh next to his ear, as his senses alerted him to the danger. There was a ringing sound of metal on metal, as he tapped the arrow away with the de of his sword.


    "Damn it¡­" Tolsey cursed, growing frustrated. He could hear his men dying around him. If left like this, then there was no hope ¨C no hope at all.


    "I''ll take to the front," Beam offered. "I''ll distract them whilst youe up with a n."


    "There''s nothing at the front to be had!" Tolsey said, his voice stern. "They''ll merely pepper you with arrows, and there''ll be nothing left of you. If they y the war of attribution, then our only hope is with the Captain."


    "Then should I not rush to assist him?" Beam asked, but again, Tolsey shook his head.


    "Can you not feel the aura of the man? Even from here, you can tell that he''s at least of the Fourth Boundary. The Captain is not fighting him to win. He''s fighting him to buy time. He was betting on us winning here, but¡­"


    "Then what are you hoping for from the Captain?" Beam asked pointedly.


    Tolsey caught himself suddenly. He''d stated that their only hope was the Captain almost reflexively, but in his questioning, the boy had forced him to reveal that his own argument was circr, as was his thought process. He was continually putting the solution elsewhere in his head, as he clung to the irrational belief that Captain Lombard would deliver them the solution.


    "¡­Draw them in, if you can. We''ll make sandbags out of the bodies and give ourselves some breathing room," Tolsey said finally, as his mind unfroze.


    Beam nodded seriously, and after a few short bounds, he was already leaving the trenches.


    Tolsey could not help but think it absurd as he watched. Beam had already drawn his sword. He was holding it off to the side, with a clear threat behind it, as though he really would manage to close the distance between himself and the enemy, as though that was entirely his intention.


    Even Jok was given a moment''s pause as he saw the boy rush from the defences towards them. "This is surely a distraction¡­ and yet¡­" Jok murmured to himself. If he looked beyond the boy, he could already see the soldiers behind him begin to move. They were dragging bodies. The reason for that seemed more than obvious to Jok.


    If he was to make a rational decision, then he''d merely ignore the boy, and continue to pepper the enemy with ammunition. They were at their weakness now, when they were attempting to rebuild their defences. There was a certain advantage to be seized.


    And yet, an instinct told him that such a thing would be unwise. He dared not leave the boy unchecked. Though it was unlikely that he would manage to achieve anything on his own, Jok was unwilling to take the risk.

 Chapter 284: Into The Valley of Death - Part 8

    "Fire upon the boy," he ordered.


    His men were listening to him now. Their responses came more quickly than before. That, or it was fear that was driving them, for every single one of them knew that the boy had in theirmander.


    Bowstrings were drawn back and a vicious barrage of arrows speared towards Beam, all of them aimed with the intent to skewer him ¨C but that only made them easier to dodge. All the Yarmdon were decent shots with the bow, and therge majority of the arrows that they''d fired were all urate enough to hit their mark.


    But that only caused the arrows to clump together in an ever-shrinking cloud. Beam merely ran off to one side, and the arrows all missed him.


    Jok felt himself flush red. It was an embarrassing sight. Never before had he ordered so many arrows be fired at a single enemy. His mind had zed over the fact that concentrated arrow fire was easier dodged.


    "Spread out your shots!" Jok ordered. "Pin him down."


    Even as he gave the order, he couldn''t help but think they were wasting arrows. Already, they''d spent a hundred and twenty arrows, gaining nothing but soil in return, and the boy was only getting closer to them.


    Even without Jok''s order, the Yarmdon men had realized their folly and they spread their shots out this time, instead aiming for the area around Beam, rather than Beam himself.


    Beam''s eyes met Jok''s as the Yarmdonmander gave the order to fire. Jok found himself paused. For a moment, the boy had felt much closer than he was, as though he was standing right in front of him. It took concentration to break that illusion, but even when it was gone, Jok could still see a pair of golden eyes in his head, peering at him, radiating bloodlust.


    His hand went to his sword, as though expecting that Beam would charge in, that he would close that distance of a hundred metres within the next arrow volley, and their des would cross.


    Instead, the boy simply turned on his heel, and sprinted back towards the Stormfront encampment.


    The arrows thudded into the snow after him, a hundred and twenty of them again, not a single one of them finding their mark.


    In a few moments more, Beam was back inside the fort, with Tolsey having improved their defences with the bodies.


    Jok was still stunned into silence. He did not even have leave toment yet more wasted arrows. Instead, he found himself looking over his shoulder, amongst the trees. A feeling of dread threatened to grip his heart. Stay tuned with m,v le,mpyr


    It was not the boy he feared. It was what the boy saw. For a moment, he''d caught a glimpse of a terribly dark presence. It was as though someone had ripped a blindfold from his eyes ¨C and now he could see it, and feel it. That presence was all around them. It tainted the very air that they breathed in.


    Just when had that begun to happen? Jok wondered. Just when had they fallen into such a trap?


    He found it hard to believe that the arrows were still flying so smoothly, that the men were still walking and fighting so swiftly, with air this thick with evil.


    Jok had felt the presence of a God once before, when had first received his blessing. He remembered it being a warm and euphoric sensation, a sweet relief, that a being far greater than he stood in his corner.


    This felt simr in its magnitude. The same godly aura. Only, this seemed even stronger, even more overwhelming, even more dangerous. It made him sweat and look over his shoulder, expecting an apparition to be hovering behind him. But there was nothing. Nothing but his men and the cold battlefield around them.


    He could not put a name to it exactly. All he knew was that it was dangerous. The most dangerous out of anyone on the battlefield, by far. Recognizing the aura, he cast his eyes to the woods. The scent seemed strong there. It came to him now in waves, like a brief sh of insight.


    He saw it all over the battlefield, all around the vige, like a dark circle, like a sacrificial altar marked out to the darkest of Gods. He saw dense pockets of it where the battle was the strongest.


    Then he saw it clinging to that boy, like steel-ted armour, an eight-foot-tall aura of dark shadow. He shuddered, and just as soon as he saw it, it was gone, as though he''d been short of breath, and now his breathing was once more steadied.


    He was returned to the reality that he knew, the scenes that he thought he understood, but even then, he could not shake the feeling of dread that sped at his heart.


    He had to fight consciously not to give the order to retreat. Then, as he wrestled with that idea, he realized that retreat wasn''t an option anyway. They''d already sealed a steel wall at their back, through their taunting of Lord ckwell''s men.


    "To think that here¡­ In the middle of nowhere¡­ We''d find something like this," Jok spat, his taste for battle turning to something bitter. They''d expected to run through this vige like all the rest. Yet what was this level of resistance? Why was there such might here, in the middle of nowhere? And why had darkness chosen to settle here, of all ces?


    "There''s no choice," Jok told himself. "We have to force our way through."


    His perspective shifted to one of urgency. He wanted to rid themselves of this Stormfront problem, as soon as possible, before it was toote. He wasn''t exactly sure what wasing ¨C but he felt it now, as surely as he felt the sea calling him from the west. There was danger afoot, of the likes that he''d never felt before.


    He gave the order, despite Gorm''s earlier protests that they take the enemy head-on.


    "Move South!" He said, for the first time giving his orders at a shout. His men shared looks, each of them asking the same question. They''d heard just as well as any what Gorm had said ¨C whenever Gorm said anything, they were all forced to listen, given the loudness of his voice.


    It was the Yarmdon way to attack from the front, to best the enemy where he was strongest, and Gorm was more Yarmdon than any.


    The Novel will be updated first on this website. Come back and


    continue reading tomorrow, everyone!

 Chapter 285: The Tigers of The North - Part 1

    He ignored the questioning looks of his soldiers, and instead focused his gaze on themanders that were observing him from a distance. Or at least, he knew that blonde man was amander. He knew nought of the boy. How old was that boy, anyway? He looked far too young for the battlefield. Jok found himself frowning at the thought.


    A terrible feeling of wrongness. He moved with his men.


    Beam returned to the fort, just in time to see the Yarmdon begin to move, heading South.


    Strangely, the Stormfront men were less surprised that they were attacking from the South than the Yarmdon themselves were. In their eyes, it was the logical thing to do, the more effective way to stage an attack.


    Despite thinking it logical, it did not stop them from looking particrly grim as it happened. The fortifications were the same pretty much the whole way around the encampment by now, since the building work had beenpleted to the North as well.


    There was a trench for the Yarmdon to ovee, as well as their wall of stakes. But there were no bodies for them to hide behind, if the enemy decided to attack with their arrows again.


    "Prepare to move," Tolsey gave the order. He didn''t want to move his men yet, lest he leave the East undermanned. Already, he knew, they''d be spreading their men thinly. By attacking in more ces, the numbers of the Yarmdon were better utilised, as was their overwhelming strength.


    Tolsey couldn''t bring all his men with him to match Jok. He had to leave enough behind, so that there wouldn''t be a gaping hole for men from Gorm''s group to attack through.


    Relentlessly, Jok moved his men into position. He took them right towards the middle of the Eastern wall. Now, if they nced over to their left, they could make out the houses of the vige rather clearly. It would only take a short run, and they could enter the vige and burn it to the ground.


    That was certainly an option Jok had considered, but as of yet, he saw no value in it. He wanted to end the battle as soon as possible ¨C and that meant dealing with the threat, rather than simply avoiding it.


    The goal was to free up Gorm, after all, for that man''s strength was the only hope that had of dealing with the danger that Jok felt. Though now, as the moments passed, he was finding it harder to trust that sense of danger. He began to doubt whether it had just been but a brief moment of madness.


    But every time his eyes settled on that boy from across the battlefield, the feeling returned, and he trusted it,mitting to his orders.


    He could see torches within the vige, and a gathering of what he could only assume were the vigers. He couldn''t make out bodies, but he could guess their number. He ignored them for now. If they were foolish enough to make a move, he knew he could fill the lot of them with arrows before they even halved the distance between them.


    Gorm noted the movement on the opposite side of the battle with a grunt. If Jok could see him, he would have been surprised by the man''sck of reaction. He''d always assumed this was an uncrossable line for the giant, that to take his honour away, you would be asking for the end of his de. In fact, he had seen such a violent impulse acted out more than once.


    But now, with Kursak''s death, Jok''s movements only caused him to smirk.


    "You''ve gone and got him fired up now," Gorm said to Lombard. His opponent was still hanging on, much to Gorm''s irritation. He seemed to be able to take just enough weight from each of his blows that he would be able to survive him. He even seemed used to fighting opponents stronger than him.


    Of course, Lombard did not understand a word that the man was saying. His face was calm and expressionless, even as the Yarmdon men forced his own back. At this rate, he knew, it would not be long before their defensive line was breached.


    His men were simrly holding on for now, just as he was, but their fire was beginning to die as tiredness took over. It took two Yarmdon soldiers to hold an entire squadron of them in ce ¨C and as the gap widened, and more and more soldiers streamed in, that was proving to be a fatal disadvantage.


    Lombard watched it all with a coolness that matched the temperature of the air. That look made Gorm wary. He could see the man''s eyes darting about to evaluate the battle. He could guess the conclusions that he wasing to ¨C and yet he stood there, unphased, as though this was all part of his master n.


    That was what Gorm didn''t like. Indeed, he loved fighting tricky opponents, but the best part was always crushing them. He hated their traps, their cunning. He hated this one more than all the rest. To think that he could have staged a trap that got someone as promising as Kursak killed. The very thought brought the anger back, and lent power to his blow.


    His axe came at Lombard from the side. With a grunt, the Captain managed to push it off, angling it towards the snow, trying to get its edge stood in the frozen ground. But Gorm was far too strong for such attempts. He brushed off that foreign momentum, and turned his axe back around for another attack. This one came just as quickly as thest, fuelled by anger.


    "IT WAS A PROMISING BOY YOU KILLED!" Gorm said, his words rising into a shout, lending his axe extra weight. "HE''D ALREADY CLAIMED THE SOULS OF THREE BLESSED WARRIORS. WHAT MANNER OF BEAST DID YOU SET UPON HIM, HM?"


    The fury was in his eyes now. They''d widened to the point that it looked as though they might fall out. His beard bristled with every word, and spittle went flying.


    Under the vicious onught, it was all Lombard could do to hold his ce, and yet he did so calmly, as calmly as ever, even as sweat mounted upon his brow. That calmness inspired Gorm to greater haste. He''d stoppedughing at the small man''s tricks the second that Kursak was in. He could feel it now, the presence of that thirdmander, the one that they''d kept hidden.

 Chapter 286: The Tigers of The North - Part 2

    "You think highly of this third one then, aye?" Gorm said, his voice quieting as he came to a rest in his attack. "Is he your victory condition? Are you fool enough to put it all on that? More fool you, strategist. We have one of our own."


    Exclusive content from m,v lem|p,yr


    Gorm continued to speak, even as Lombard merely eyed him cidly, betraying no reaction to his words. How could he? He did not understand a single one that he breathed. And yet somehow, with thattest line, it was as though Lombard understood.


    "It''ll be your promising youth against mine, then," he said. "Let us see who reigns supreme."


    He neglected to add ¨C even if Gorm could not understand him ¨C that his youth was not his own. His youth belonged to a man mightier than he''d ever seen. Perhaps the man that might overshadow even Arthur himself. It was he that had seen potential in the boy, and it was he that nurtured it.


    And with a sound like booming thunder, that very man had taken a step across a boundary that even Arthur himself had never managed to scrape.


    With a groan, Dominus rolled onto his side. His whole body felt numb from the exertion. He touched a hand to his purpled shoulder. It felt as though fire was coursing through his veins.


    He went to flex a hand. In the past, when he''d crossed each Boundary, this would be when he marvelled at the potential that he''d achieved, at this new level of strength, at this new level of insight and understanding about how the world worked.


    But this time, his sess only brought him closer to death.


    He could hear the battlefield off in the distance. He could feel the presence of many mighty men. He realized that he should attempt to join them.


    He tried to shift himself from his rock, as he sat beside a deep and plunging waterfall, high up in the ck Mountains. Yet even his new strength could not stop him from tumbling to the ground in a disy that was thoroughly pathetic, especially for Stormfront''s strongest warrior ¨C nay, even then, he was likely the strongest even out of all the countries that bordered the Stormfront.


    "Damn it," heined again, as he forced himself to his feet.


    In return for passing through the Sixth Boundary, he''d given up even more of his body to the Pandora Goblin''s poison. It now affected most of his flesh. All four limbs were ckened by it. Most of his chest was too. It narrowly avoided his heart, but it was not by much.


    He sat there on his side, sweating. But even as he sweat, and he struggled, he could not help grinning.


    He dared not shout out, or give way to too much excitement, for that would only allow the poison to spread further, but the jubtion that ran through him was more extreme than even the new power that he''d grasped himself.


    He''d gone about this training, at first motivated, at first inspired, thanks to the new outlook that his apprentice had given him. In training the boy, he''d begun to see the world differently, it had opened up something for him.


    But then when he''d truly pushed himself once more, the same resistance that he''d felt for nearly a decade was there, constant and immovable.


    He puzzled over that ¨C he''d made progress, that much was true. Just like the rivers that he spoke so often of, he''d gone backwards by a great deal, in order to make his way forwards, but then that resistance had hit him again.


    And yet, in the same instance, he''d been hit with an inconsistency. Something that ran contrary to that understanding of progress that he''d built up after all these years. Why was it that teaching the boy had brought out such progress? Was it the achievements that the boy had disyed, or was it the heart?


    It was of course both those things, but it was more too. Dominus had learned time and time again that information without a foundation to support it was useless. Learning an advanced sword strike without first knowing the basics would be far more arduous than it would otherwise be.


    The same was true of the inspiration the boy had given him, the progress that it had lent him ¨C if the foundation was not already there, then he would have taken nothing from it.


    He fell to thinking of the sword masters of the past. Those who sword by calligraphy and art as a means to strengthen their de. Dominus had only seen foolishness in that his entire life, but now he was beginning to see why that might work. For progress toe from a ce contrary to the one that he worked on¡­. It was odd for him.


    It made him wonder, perhaps progress was not the straight path of a river. At least, it didn''t feel like that any longer for him, not as a mortal man. It felt more like the gentlepping of the sea. To send waves in at a cliff, and gradually wear it down. He needed both strength and distance in his waves.


    He''d felt both of those today, when the realization hit. The snow had fallen, and he''d given all he had to progress. He realized that he should have taught earlier, but then he knew no other pupil would have interested him like Beam. It required a peculiarity of Beam''s magnitude to thaw Dominus'' rigidness.


    And now, below the gaze of the Gods, they had let loose thunder in acknowledgement of his achievement. He felt their praise, and he ignored it ¨C for he could feel in his body that he would soon be joining them anyway.


    Before that, he had a task, he had to crawl his way to the battlefield that his apprentice fought on. He had to ensure this knowledge that he had salvaged did not go to waste.


    And yet, his limbs were ckened and immovable. The only thing he could really do was blink.


    "To think, at this point, the paths of swordsmen and mages would begin to intersect," Dominus noted with a wry smile. Once again, his expectations had been shattered. Once more, the answery outside the narrow framework that he''d set for himself. It was the power that few could reach, yet many tried.


    Inspired by Beam, he''d sought to add that to his own swordsmanship ¨C but only very recently did he begin to understand what that meant.

 Chapter 287: The Tigers of The North - Part 3

    That boy had been given a gift by the Gods¡­ Or perhaps it was more of a curse. He had a power of the likes that Dominus had never seen, a power that did not even involve mana. It was a terrifying thing. Dominus had to consciously calm himself when he discussed the matter in front of his pupil, for it was such an irregrity that it made him want to bang his head against the wall inment.


    All along, they had existed, and they continued to exist. Despite thousands of years of sword schools, thousands of years of study, a thoroughly advanced civilization, that knew all sorts of things, practised all sorts of magnificent findings, there was still more out there. Still greater power, still frontiers left unexplored.


    For Dominus, being old as he was, and so thoroughly set in his ways, he could not quite ess them. In fact, it was a rather profound leap in creativity that allowed him to seek the answers that he did, to put two things together that none had been capable of before.


    He''d noted that mana, as swordsmen progressed, inevitably found its way into their techniques, despite them not consciously seeking it out, or looking for it. It augmented their muscles and steadied their breath, making them faster and more destructive. More than anyone else, Arthur had carried that stench of mana, like the scent of flowers.


    He''d battled shrouded by shards of violet light.


    Dominus, in approaching that Sixth Boundary, he''d sacrificed everything. He''d given up his body ¨C but he was quick to do that. He''d given up his theories of progress, his understanding. And then, he''d even given up his morals.


    He hated the mages far more than many. Their stench of madness inspired his sword hand to a quick execution. His hatred had stopped him from ever properly considering the problem of mana. Yet now, finally, after all this time, he''d dared to look at it, despite the revulsion it caused him.


    It was in mana that he found his current answer, in order to move, and fill his lifeless body with an energy that it otherwise didn''t have. It was mana that forced open the door to the Gods, mana, and the decision to look at all those things that he reviled most.


    He was not to know that on the battlefield, at the very same time that he was confronting his own revulsions, so too were the enemy of his apprentice confronting theirs.


    As Dominus hated mana, Gorm hated strategy. He spat such words out.


    "Strategy is a dog''s game. The bare minimum is all you need," Gorm said, enting his words with a swing of his axe. Lombard''s guard went up toote. The de nicked his cheek lightly, drawing blood.


    "I liked Kursak for that ¨C he shared my hold on honour, my belief in the Yarmdon ways," Gorm said. "But even amongst the Yarmdon, times are changing. We even have a strategist for a King now, can you believe that, Southerner? And look where we stand on the orders of that same King¡­ In the heart of the enemy''s position, with viges burned down and half a foreign Lord''s army at our back.


    All that chaos, with a mere three hundred men."


    As Gorm fell into long-winded speech, Lombardunched his counterattack. He went not for the giant''s body, but for his hand, aiming to im one of those thick fingers.


    He came in from low, without telegraphing any of his movements. His sword neared flesh, but without even ncing at him, Gormzily pushed the man away.


    "Perhaps it was myck of strategy that got Kursak killed¡­ My clinging to honour," Gormmented. "The Gods will condemn me for that. But Kursak wouldn''t. His strength wascking, that''s all there is to it."


    He swung his axe down over his head, as he worked to sort his own thoughts out. This man who had seen so many die, struggling with the death of one that he had seen nearly as a son. He''d seen a future in that young man, a future that potentially eclipsed his own. One day, Kursak would have branched off down his own path ¨C Gorm was excited to see where that would have led.


    Lombard''s knees buckled as he was forced to raise his sword to block the strike. Had Gorm followed up with his usual quickness, a piece of Lombard''s stomach might have gone missing. But the Yarmdon hero was distracted, he was looking towards the other side of the battlefield, towards where Beam and Tolsey fought.


    "Go on then, Jok. Show me the strength of this strategy of yours, when we put it in the hands of a Yarmdon."


    "FRONT ROW! ADVANCE!" Jok shouted, giving orders like a general. He''d quickly divided his army up into four, to make them easier to handle. He no longer needed a hundred and twenty bowmen. They''d served their purpose. Now he sought to punch a hole in the enemy defences and send his men streaming through.


    Thirty Yarmdon men crossed the snowy ins at a charge, hitting the Stormfront camp at the centre of that Southern wall. Tolsey anxiously gavemands, as he was forced to join the fighting himself.


    "Stay tight! Ignore the holes! Hold them in ce!" He shouted. Their numbers were much too thin. They couldn''t keep their soldiers spread out along the entire length of the wall as they had initially nned to. And now soldiers from Gorm''s side were beginning toe towards them as well.


    Little by little, their defences were weakening.


    As soon as Jok saw his men engage the enemy, he called out to the archers.


    "PEPPER THE ENEMY! SHOOT HIGH, AND AVOID OUR OWN! WE AIM TO UNSETTLE THEM, NOT KILL THEM!" Jok shouted. He had sixty men still armed with bows, whilst he had a second row of thirty armed with axes, ready to rush in as soon as Jok felt the enemy weak enough.

 Chapter 288: The Tigers of The North - Part 4

    As they were now, he recognized that a single all-out assault was exactly what the Stormfront men needed. It took advantage of the defensive might of their spear and their fort. Using too many numbers at once made those numbers ineffective, for there was not enough space with those stakes in the way for too many of his soldiers to fight side by side. Just that was enough, for now.


    Then his arrows went streaming in. As expected, his men were cautious. Some hard even nced sharply at him, as he ordered they fire arrows amongst where their men already were. He''d chosen to exin himself for that reason, so they could understand his intent, and direct their weapons in ordance.


    Even given such restrictions, that they aim high and not hit their own, he still heard screams ring out from the enemy camp. More than one arrow had found its mark.


    He felt the tension on the field within his chest. He was really beginning to feel it, for the first time ever. The flow of a battle thisrge in scale. He felt the fear in his chest along with it. He really was afraid that Gorm would kill him for his decision, but more than Gorm, at the moment, what he feared was that premonition of darkness.


    It made him want to fight harder, make his decisions more effective, and buckle this enemy even more quickly, whilst saving as much strength as they could. He needed not just victory, but perfect victory, so that he could deal with what cameter.


    There was that boy amongst the enemy ranks, him and that blondemander. They were making things difficult, somewhat. But with this style of fighting, their strength wasn''t utilised as well as it could be. It was the spear-wielding soldiers that met their charges head-on. It was only the stragglers that the two Blessed Warriors were able to deal with.


    Jok spied the boy beheading another one of his men. His de was swung without a shred of hesitation, as though he''d fallen out of the womb straight onto the battlefield.


    It made Jok shudder to look at him. To guess his age,pare it to his own, and then see his strength. They both had the same amount of blessings, or so Jok assumed. Jok was young too, at eighteen. It was a mighty feat for him to receive the Goddess of War''s favour so early. They''d praised him for it, back home, and called him a genius.


    He''d received his blessing even younger than Kursak had.


    For that, he was given the honour of fighting under Gorm. There were many other Earls that he could have fought for, but there were few that did not know the name of Gorm. He was a hero amongst his people, for his feats and his victories.


    Ironically, it was the siege of Grul that he was best known for ¨C another highly strategic siege battle, that Gorm had stormed straight through, by pure personal might.


    It was personal might, and his ability to inspire his men, those were Gorm''s strengths. After being around the man for as long as he had been, Jok was beginning to understand just how special those traits were, and just howcking he was in them.


    He knew, if he crossed swords with that boy from across the battlefield, then he would lose. For him to have dealt with Kursak so easily, that told Jok as much. The two of them had been near even in strength, though Jok would always seize the upper hand because of his trickery.


    Now that man was dead, and Jok''s equal was a corpse. There was no praise to be seized in that.


    But even if he could not beat the enemy in singlebat, there was no reason for him to fear. Singlebat had never been his strength. It was this constricting style of group battle that he favoured, as he wound his way around an enemy like a snake, gradually forcing more and more oxygen out of them.


    He could see the enemy numbers dropping, slow and steady. His arrows imed a few men, then the axes imed the others, as the soldiers looked up, fearing for the arrows that came their way.


    The tension had been built up. Even against two Blessed Warriors, Jok could feel it. He had them in a bind. He was squeezing the life out of them, and still, he had ny more men that he could send in to join the rest.


    At any moment, the bnce would crumble, and he''d be able to shatter their defensive position entirely. That was all that he needed. Then, Gorm would be freed up, and victory would be theirs. Against the mighty Gorm, even that boy stood no chance, Jok was sure of that.


    Beam dealt with another enemy, as he tried to slip through the gaps unnoticed. The man was more than double his height, but Beam dealt with him the same as all the rest. He warmed the cold steel of his de with the man''s blood, dealing him a single thrust through the heart, and dodging the axe that came his way in retaliation.


    Another man dead, another man fallen to his fate, another man dealt with so easily. And yet, they were losing, Beam could feel it.


    Visit m,v le,mpyr today


    Tolsey frantically gave orders by his side, urging their men into position, as arrows flew out overhead. Themander dealt with any Yarmdon that came his way just as easily as Beam did, and yet still, they were losing.


    Mighty as they were, they were but two men. Their might served to augment the might of the men, just as the men augmented their own strength. With each new man that they lost, the walls closed in on them, and it became harder and harder to deal with the stragglers that made it their way.


    Soon, it was not one man that made it past, but two. Just like with the goblins, a lone enemy was that much easier to deal with than a group of them. With each new Yarmdon added, their strength grew, as they covered for each other''s weaknesses, and Beam had to take more and more risks to deal with them.


    It puzzled Beam. It felt like he''d killed so many. It felt like his de hadn''t stopped swinging, and yet there seemed to be no end to the number of enemies that came his way. That Yarmdon leader had not yet even sent in another wave.


    Beam brushed an arrow aside as they came streaming overhead, but now there was an axeing down towards his shoulder, and then another being swung down at his knee. Beam had thought the Yarmdon undisciplined, he''d thought their group fighting to becking. But there was a wolfishness to the way they worked together.


    On sheer animal instinct, they seemed to know where to strike, how to follow each other up, just enough so that it weakened him.

 Chapter 289 : The Tigers of The North - Part 5

    The element of surprise had been lost long ago. That single instant in which Beam had in Kursak. He''d felt something buckle then ¨C he was sure that was the changing of the tides of battle, the opening of the floodgates. His sword had felt it too. He killed ten Yarmdon men in a matter of moments, as though his de had been spurred on by the wind.


    But now, that very same steel that had been so fast earlier now slowed, as though a spider was shooting webs at it, trying to bury it in ce.


    It was the flow of battle, Beam realized, that was what he felt. It was the same thing he''d felt in the mountains, just before the Titan had arisen. There was an odd force, a momentum, a current and a strength that governed every move in the lead-up to victory. That amplified the strong, and undermined the weak.


    Beam knew no more of it than its existence. He''d tried to control it in the past, to flow with it, and he''d been sessful upon asion, but on those asions, he''d fought alone. Now his fate was bound up in the fate of the group. Their loss was his loss. Their weakness became his weakness, and slowed his movements.


    And now there were hundreds of men to deal with. With the flow of hundreds against them, it was suffocating and tangible, like someone had doubled or even tripled the gravity.


    As he fought, out of the corner of his eye, he saw yet another soldier fall.


    He could feel it on the other side of the battlefield too. Another great wave was about toe crashing in.


    At most, he could feel they only had forty men left. The Yarmdon assault was relentless. Their stream of arrows seemed infinite.


    There were four people on Beam now. Another storm of arrows shot overhead. Beam was forced to dodge. As he came up, an axe nicked his shoulder ¨C his first proper wound of the fight.


    His sword answered the pain, as he plunged it through the Yarmdon''s neck. He used the giant body to shield himself from the rest of the arrows. Once he could hear that the storm was over, he flung the corpse off him, into the other two.


    He managed to knock one off bnce. He lunged at him, closing the distance, stabbing his sword into his leg. But there was another axeing his way that was forced to dodge before dealing the final blow. He rolled off the side to free himself from it, but then another de wasing his way ¨C a sword this time, from a Yarmdon woman, who''d broken free with the rest.


    Her sword was slower than the axe, and his own arm shot out to meet it. His de snuck past hers, and his edge dug into her wrist and severed her tendons, forcing her to drop the weapon. Again, he went in for the final blow, but the other Yarmdon stepped in, with their shields raised, and they walled him off.


    "Damn it," he cursed, just as another Yarmdon joined their assault against him, he nced up, just in time to see the first Yarmdon man make it past Tolsey, as he ran into the camp unmolested, free to make chaos.


    The noise of battle drew closer and closer to the vige. The shadow of death loomed over them all, no matter who they were.


    "Are you really going to stand there, guarding us, in the midst of all this?" Greeves exploded at the soldier who continued to stand guard outside the front of his tent, even as they heard the whistle of arrow fire nearby, and the screams of dying men.


    Earlier, they''d even heard thunderous footsteps rush past. They''d all held their breath then. Even the soldier had nced back towards them, nervously, as all of them prayed that it was an allied soldier, rather than one of those barbarians that they''d made enemies of.


    In the end, the footsteps had merely faded, as the man ran further away. They never were able to figure out who they belonged to. But it did not matter ¨C the fear of all in thatrge tent was at a fever pitch.


    Both Loriel and Greeves had given way to anger, whilst the other fifteen or so girls found themselves clinging to each other with nervous fingers, their faces pale, and tears never far from their eyes.


    "I TOLD YOU! SIT DOWN!" The soldier roared. They''d been wearing at him with their arguments for a while now, and the man had fully given up any pretence of remainingposed. His grip on his spear was nervous. He was a rtively new recruit, and had only fought under Lombard for a year. The youth of his face betrayed that.


    By now, Greeves'' own anger had taken over. The thought of the ss difference between them was the furthest thing from his mind. It was life and death now, as his pounding heart reminded him, and a rage that far eclipsed any he''d had before began to take over. He was continuously pawing at the dagger on his belt, mere moments away from stabbing the man.


    "I WON''T SIT DOWN! IT''S EITHER YOU KILL ME, OR THE LOT OF US GET SLAUGHTERED LIKE DOGS HERE ANYWAY, WHAT''S THE DAMNED BIT OF DIFFERENCE?" Greeves dared to take a step towards the man. The soldier lowered his spear, aiming the point at his chest.


    "I''M WARNING YOU, MERCHANT, ANOTHER STEP, AND I WILL KILL THE LOT OF YOU! THIS IS A BATTLEFIELD! IF YOU ENDANGER THE LIVES OF OUR COMRADES WITH YOUR ACTIONS, YOU WILL BE EXECUTED!"


    "YOUR LIVES ABOVE OURS, IS IT? DAMN YOU!" Greeves cursed. "WE''RE HELD HERE ON FALSE ACCUSATIONS!"


    Out of the corner of Greeves'' eye, he saw Loriel move, as quiet as a phantom, as emotionless as an icicle, she delicately slid up behind the soldier. Not even her skirts rustled. The soldier didn''t notice her.

 Chapter 290 : The Tigers of The North - Part 6

    Greeves watched, and his eyes widened as he saw her. He knew she was angry ¨C she''d been shouting as much as him. He knew just how much responsibility she put on herself, just how much she wanted to protect the girls that she''d worked with. She''d taken on the mother figure amongst them all by her lonesome ¨C no one had asked her to.


    It frightened Greeves at times, to see her like that. There were moments when the light in her eyes grew distant, and rationality eclipsed. Moments even when he was sure that she might strike him. He liked that about her, as much as he feared that about her. He could sense something as twisted in her as was in him, though the Gods knew she hid it better, and behind a far prettier face.


    His eyes widened as he realized what she was about to do. She''d given up on words. The moment Greeves had started shouting, she was already moving. The emotion had vanished from her face. She was like those girls that the Elder had kept around ¨C all beauty, but with no warmth.


    The soldier must have seen Greeves'' eyes widen, for he cut himself off mid-sentence, just as he was about to fire a retort.


    "THAT''S RIGHT, DAMN IT¡ª" But then there was steel at his throat.


    "Loriel, don''t¡­" Greeves said quietly, desperately. He''d been about to do the very same thing himself, but now seeing Loriel with knife in hand, a thoroughly different person to the one he knew, it was fear that took over, rather than anger, as they entered straight into the unknown.


    The man gulped. She nced at Greeves, unmoved, and then dragged the cold steel edge of her dagger across the soldier''s throat. She took a life with the same delicateness that sheforted the girls with. They were motherly motions.


    He spluttered, as blood ran out of his throat, all over Loriel''s pale hands. She let the body fall in front of her. He fell with a tter, his chainmail making a sharp noise, and his helmet falling from his head.


    It was only then that Greeves seemed to realize. "It was you, then¡­"


    The emotion returned to Loriel''s face for a second then, as her eyes widened in surprise. She smiled sadly at Greeves'' remark. "You already knew, then?"


    "I had my suspicions," Greeves said. He was struggling to meet her gaze, as the body emptied itself of blood between them. The girls beside them were watching on in terror, shivering, for reasons other than just the cold.


    "To have been doubted so early on¡­" Lorielined.


    "You did not kill all of them though, did ya?" Greeves pointed out. Again, the woman''s eyes betrayed her surprise. "My bet is it was only the first one, wasn''t it? ''Cos of the threats he made to Charlotte. You were scared for her, and you were right to be, after the bruises he already gave her."


    "I''ve been seen throughpletely¡­ So you knew? You knew all the way? And yet you said nothing?" Loriel asked. The emotion was returning to her voice, even as the blood left her hands. Greeves felt the pang in his heart. The woman was twisted, he knew, but she wasn''t made for acts of violence like this.


    They wore on her.


    "You didn''t do an awfully good job of hiding it. Even killing one of these dogs left you feeling guilty. If you''d spoken to me, I would have taken care of them in your ce. I have men for that.


    Do you think I would hesitate, girl?" Greeves said, showing her his most savage smile, the smile that he wore when fate was against him, when the circumstances were terrible, and they demanded he do terrible things. Time and again, he would rise up to meet them.


    "I couldn''t burden you with it," Loriel said, shaking her head. "That Captain would have seen through you¡­ He would have. It would have endangered us all. I thought I could be of use. Even a child like Beam, he''s protecting everyone. I thought, at the very least, I could protect what mattered to me¡­ But I failed."


    "Don''tpare yourself to the boy," Greeves told her, his tone exasperated. Even in the most extreme moments, he hardly had the patience for it. "Damn it, of all the people topare yourself to, don''tpare yourself to him. Even he''s battered by the death of Charlotte, and he hardly knew her. That ain''t right. We''re just ordinary people, Loriel.


    If we try and stretch our hands as far as him, we''ll only end up t on our faces."


    Loriel nodded, as her lip quivered, and she looked at the corpse. The tears came unbidden to her eyes. In the moment, it had been there, there had been no hesitation, but now it was only regret, as she felt the blood cool on her hands. Regret came like a plunge into a waterfall, weighing down cold on her shoulders. This was water that dirtied her, rather than cleaning her.


    She looked at the girls that she had moved to protect, and they were looking to her uncertainly.


    She knew how she looked then. It was only Greeves that was looking at her levelly. He was used to death, he understood the darkness in people better than most. He understood it better too, because he was the worst of people, who had done the worst of things, and yet even in that sinking quicksand of greed and evil, he''d managed to pause for a moment, and at least consider the good.


    He held a hand out to her. "C''mon. You lot as well. We have no ce here."


    "What about Beam?" Loriel asked weakly. She already knew she could do nought to help, but she couldn''t just up and leave like that. Her body could hardly allow it.


    "He''s fighting to protect you, ya dolt. Don''t go making that more difficult. Get yourself out of here," Greeves said. "You know where I keep the key to my vault, aye? Even if those Yarmdon bastards burn the whole ce to the ground, that vault will stay safe. And with how well hidden it is, I doubt they''ll even know what they''re missing.


    Go there, and keep the girls safe."

 Chapter 291: The Tigers of The North - Part 7

    Loriel realized from the way he was talking that Greeves had no intention of going with them. She looked over to the girls. They were already standing up from the furs that they''d been seated on for hours. She wasn''t sure if they were just that afraid of the noises of battle, and that anxious to leave, or whether it was the corpse in front of them that was driving them to move so hastily.


    "What about you?" She asked, as they gathered at the door to the tent. Greeves gave her a tense smile back.


    "I''ll see you halfway there," he said. Then he reached down towards the soldier''s sword belt and drew the de. He wasn''t able to make it look light in his hand. In fact, he let out an audible groan at the weight of it. "How are they swinging this like it''s nothing?" He muttered to himself.


    There was another thudding boom from across the battlefield. All of them looked up at once, like startled forest animals. They couldn''t even think to imagine what the noise might be. They had no conception of men like Gorm ¨C warriors of that calibre. Most of them had lived quietly, amongst viges, even despite the darkness that riddled all their pasts.


    They could not fathom that a giant of a man had managed to cut through several thick wooden stakes with but a single swing of his mighty axe. If they''d paused to consider it, it might have frozen them to the spot in shock. They certainly wouldn''t have trusted in Greeves'' vault quite as much.


    They dared to make their way outside. Greeves led them, with the sword in his hand, pretending that he even had the slightest idea of how to use it. All the while, he was muttering under his breath. "Damn it¡­ Where''s that Judas? All that gold, and when it counts, he''s off fighting someone else''s battle."


    They could see nothing amongst the camp as they stuck their heads outside. Only the flickerings of dying torches that had been left. The camp was all but deserted, a painfully quiet dome absent of life.


    And then to the sides of it, when one strained their ears ever so slightly, they could hear the screams, the ng of metal on metal, and the whooshing and thudding of arrows.


    Greeves dared to look towards the battlefield. He could just barely make it out past the sea of tents. He caught a glimpse of giant men, shields and axes in their hands, bearing down on desperate spearmen, that gave all they could just to hold them back.


    He was no man for evaluating battle, but he knew how to evaluate people. He could see that those men, those soldiers, they''d all be given up. They were thest desperate attempts of wounded animals. They were what he''d see in the faces of debtors, as they gave theirst desperate attempts, already believing that their attempt would fail, before it even did.


    "GRAH!" He heard that shout ring out from the battlefield, as one of those Yarmdon men knelt his giant frame, and put his weight behind his shield. He charged one squadron of Stormfront soldiers, with shield against shoulder. It was almostical how easily he broke their position. Two men went flying backwards, whilst the others rushed to encircle him with their spears.


    Their weapons dug into the man''s side, punching holes in his furs, and dying them red with his blood. But they hardly seemed to slow the man. It was like angering a bear. The man only swung more wildly with his axe, anger and adrenaline blocking out the pain.


    Then his reinforcements came with him, like a great wave. There were only two of them on the front line ¨C and really, that was all that was needed ¨C but Greeves could see many more behind them. Thest remnants of that squadron were scattered like the wind, and Yarmdon soldiers began to stream into the encampment, breaching the defences.


    "Gods¡­" Greeves moaned, ncing towards it. The sinking feeling in his heart surprised even himself. He thought that he''d already given up on the vige. But for there to be disappointment, there must have been hope, he realized.


    He dared to wonder what he was clinging to, what hope, but that thought didn''tst long, for his own fear spurred him into action, along with the fear of a dozen beautiful women, all of them staring up at him, eyes as round as owls.


    "Damn it," he dered, breaking into a run. "Loriel, get them moving, now! This whole thing is about to crumble!" He said through gritted teeth.


    He heard the rustling of skirts behind him, as the girls quivered, and Loriel encouraged them. "Come on now," she said. "We''ll be fine. It''s only a short way."


    As Greeves rushed to leave the encampment, he heard the whooshing of more arrow fire from the south, and he cast his gaze towards the sky.


    THUD!


    An arrownded ufortably close to his foot.


    ''Where are you, boy..?'' He found himself muttering. By now, as he ran, he was getting a better view of the battlefield. He was beginning to be able to make out faces, and the backs of soldiers. But the one person that he was looking for, the one person he''d dare to put any sort of hope in, his back was entirely absent.


    Greeves knew nothing of battle, but he could hardly believe that the situation was so dire if that boy was still out there fighting.


    Greeves searched, but his gaze never found him.


    Beam was wedged behind a gaggle of tents, as he was forced further and further back into his encampment, as he attempted to deal with the Yarmdon that were breaking through, that the squadrons were unable to hold back.


    There was getting to be a fair distance between him and the line of stakes now. At least ten steps. If Beam looked over his shoulder, the first canvas of a tent would not be that far away ¨C and the number of Yarmdon only kept increasing.

 Chapter 292: The Tigers of The North - Part 8

    He''d lost sight of Tolsey long ago. The man had been swept away in the tide of battle, in apletely opposite direction to where Beam was being pushed.


    In fact, to Beam, it almost seemed as though he had no allies left. He could hardly see them. Every time he looked up, another soldier perished, be it to arrows, or to an axe. Thatmander had sent in another wave by now. There were an extra thirty, making up nearly fifty Yarmdon.


    They''d struggled to deal with the first thirty ¨C if Beam had to guess, they''d only really managed to kill half of them. And now there were thirty again, backing up the rest. It was enough to dull even the strongest des.


    Beam''s battle was now entirely a defensive one. It was over ten men that he held up now. It wasn''t really a fight. It was simply them steadily marching him down, and him doing all he could to slow their advance. The wall of their defences was all but imprable, as they wielded their shields to defend each other, whilst others attacked in their ce.


    A voice in his head cackled at his plight. It amused it to see just how much he struggled. It was a hopeless battle at this point, Beam could feel it. The wave of men in front of him was only growing stronger, and there were still so many men in reserve.


    His sword nged as he caught it on the edge of an axe. For a second he thought it might have shattered ¨C he''d caught the attack entirely wrong, as the fatigue started to build up. But he was lucky.


    Instead, it was a cut on his forehead that he had to trade hisck of efficiency for. Another axe hade his way, seeking his head, and it was all he could do to draw back. The edge of the axe burrowed into his skin, tearing open a sizable gash.


    The blood ran down, threatening to obscure his vision. Again, he was forced to take a step back, as the men gathered around him, making the fullest use of their numbers.


    Strangely, even as the odds mounted against him, Beam felt more calm than he had all day. The action ¨C relentless as it was ¨C gave his mind something to upy itself. It cared not about all the mistakes of the past, or all the mistakes of the future.


    It was that moment that demanded everything from him, for in that moment, just as in all the moments that followed it, he was well and truly fighting for his life.


    Such was Beam''sfort zone. That ce of absolute struggle. Where there could be no control of anything, except the will to struggle. He''d spent years in that state. He''d hardened his mind against the relentless hole that ack of progress dug for him, and he''d continued to work anyway.


    He''d done pitiful amounts. He''d dug holes in the soil all day, under the title of digger, as the local noble followed the advice of a prospector, believing there to be a rich vein of iron in the area.


    He''d survived each day doing that, earning just enough money to eat, and nothing more.


    Then he would do his press-ups, in the cold, feeble attempts at grasping for something. But Ingolsol''s curse had battered him. Even after years of doing the same thing, his strength never went up, his numbers always stayed the same. Progress had been a foreign concept to him, as foreign as mana was to everyone else. It was struggle that he''d understood, struggle that he''d swam in.


    Like a fish that had finally been put back into water, Beam''s mind fell into what it was alwaysfortable with. That state of calm and relentless struggle, that which he did better than any man alive. It was potential that Beam struggled to deal with, it was the ability to control, and then the failures and sesses that came with it. He had no experience with them.


    He found himself reaching further than he should have been because of it.


    Another blow came searching for his head, as all his thoughts of the day came to him in shes, like a voice from miles away. He hardly heard them.


    "Charlotte died on your watch," it said.


    An axe was levelled at his throat. It came close enough to shave with. Beam battered it aside with the edge of his weapon.


    "She did," came a calm response. It was his own voice ¨C a voice that had grown used to his own weakness. His own family had been torn away in front of him. His own little sister, who he''d sworn to protect, she''d been killed as mercilessly as the rest of them. It was Beam''s weakness that had caused that. He''d known from the start that he was weak.


    For some reason, with strength, he''d started believing he was strong.


    This time, a sword came towards his gut.


    "We will die, just as she did," it was his own voice this time, not that dark voice that criticised him. It wasn''t an anxiety-riddenment, it wasn''t even a negative thought in general. Beam hade to terms with his own death long ago. His young mind had been forced into awareness far too young. He knew of the fragility of life.


    He knew it, yet his mind had been unable to adapt to the new strength that it was given. It had lost that perfect bnce that allowed him to deal with the most crushing of circumstances.


    Death was the same for all of them. Beam eyed the Yarmdon up, as they faced off against him. His expression had lost its tension. It was as though he''d given up. And in a way, he had. He''d given up control, he''d given up trying to direct fate in his direction, to control the will of battle through his own hands.


    His master spoke of progress often. Beam felt that too. That strange force that ran through everything. That which was present in the streams of the mountain rivers, just as it was present in the charge of a thousand soldiers. That force which governed all things, which even the strongest of lifeforms was forced to subordinate to. The naturalw of is and was.

 Chapter 293: The Tigers of The North - Part 9

    With no resistance, he settled into a state of higher efficiency. He operated ording to a speed that he did not set. He felt it with his body, that bnced speed that he could handle for hours upon hours at a time. The zone of perfect struggle that would allow him to be resilient for years.


    He turned the de aside as it came at him, his movements just slightly sharper than before, and then he buried his sword in his attacker''s gut.


    The man looked down in surprise. Beam''s weapon tore to the left, causing the man''s organs to spill out. The man grasped at them in a panic, and tried to put them back in. But his life was already over, and his struggle showed no reward.


    A dozen men Beam had faced off against, now that number was cut down by one.


    Beam almost smiled. He felt like he was meeting an old friend. This was who he was, deeper and darker than everything else. Progress came and went, progress was the food and whimsy of the Gods. Beauty, as Beam saw it, was struggle. It was his oldest friend.


    It was his path to meaning when all else failed. For the struggle wouldn''t lie to him, the struggle wouldn''t leave him. Whenever he sought to find it, the struggle would always be there.


    In fact, those were the moments that Beam shined the brightest. As everything changed around him, as his strength grew, as his efforts suddenly drew praise, as people suddenly looked at him as though he was something special ¨C it was the moments of struggle when he truly knew who he was.


    It was in the bitterness of injuring his leg as he lost against the Hobgoblin. That had stirred his emotions, and angered him. In the suffering of those emotions, therey Beam.


    In the physical pain that came with battle against that same Hobgoblin, even as it evolved, therey Beam.


    The struggle, every time, it guided Beam to a path that he never would have found on his own. To strengths and discoveries that he never would have learned without it.


    It was in expecting things to go his way that Beam had drawn wrong. He''d let power whisper to him, just as Ingolsol did. It tempted him, it tricked him, it told him that he had control now, they''d grown strong enough, that there was no more need for struggle. But he''d had it all wrong. It was never about oveing the struggle, it was embracing it. Only then did his mind finally find peace.


    Only then did his true worth shine forth. Only then did the Gods smile at him in joy.


    It was only that that kept him from Ingolsol''s curse when all else sumbed to it. True despair was in that loss of control, that loss of hope. But swimming in the sea of struggle? None could take that from him.


    His sword shed again, and cut another man down. It bit deep into his shoulder, carving him up. Beam was tired. Awfully tired. His calves ached from constant movement. His lungs burned from continually heaving in the cold air.


    Even his sword arm was wrought with fatigue ¨C he had could hardly hold it up anymore. And so he didn''t. There was no need.


    The struggle guided him. It didn''t demand that he perform impossible feats, it merely shone a light on what was possible and what was not. No longer could he hold his sword arm up at the ready, and so he didn''t. He allowed that pain to give birth to possibility, and it terrified the enemies before him.


    The light began to glow in Beam''s eyes. Not the gold of Ingolsol, nor the purple of udia, but the blue and green that was Beam. They shone startlingly, perfect jewels on the coldest night. They had all the ferocity and innocence of a panther, clinging to the treetops, as it marked passersby as prey.


    He didn''t kill them out of anger. His reasons for swinging his word had dulled. He''d forgotten the future. He merely knew where he was now, for he''d been here so many times before, he was in that perfect zone of struggle, where lions hunted and buffalo ran.


    They''d had a perfect shield wall, for a while, as imposing as a towering mountain. With two of them dead, however, that began to change. The openings revealed themselves more and more. Beam did not pounce on them. He didn''t have the energy to properly seize the opportunity.


    He merely stood, and waited, gathering his breath, listening to his body and his breathing, noting his weaknesses, and not fearing them, merely taking them into ount.


    The Yarmdon couldn''t afford to stand still. Orders were being shouted from the back, in that harsh Northern tongue.


    "SROVAR!" Jok shouted, demanding that they advance. He knew the strength of a Blessed Warrior, and he knew how to stifle them. He knew that if he kept his men tight, and smothered them, at the rank that boy was, he would crumble. With twelve men already through those stakes, already pressing the boy down, Jok''s gaze had begun to wander.


    He''d seen the boy gather wounds. He''d felt in his chest the feeling that he always felt just before an enemy broke. That building of tension, that mounting of the problems, that overwhelming gravity that brought even thergest of men to his knees¡­ And yet, when he''d nced back, two of his meny dead.


    His heart missed a beat, as time froze for him. He was sure that a mere five men were already stifling the boy''s movements. They covered each other''s defences, and made a mighty obstacle to ovee. Now that he''d had twelve men, that was doubly as true. Yet, instead of being broken under the pressure, it was his men that now snapped.


    Read now on m_vl_em_p_yr


    "What manner of..?" He murmured to himself. Were all the Stormfront like this? It was his first time doing battle against them, and his first time being pushed so hard in all of his career.


    He nced over toward where the othermander was. Themands had stoppeding. The man had all but disappeared. It was merely a sea of his own men over there, trampling the remnants of those Stormfront squadrons.

 Chapter 294: The Tigers of The North - Part 10

    That man had indeed crumbled, just as Jok thought. He didn''t think there was a w in his movements. The strangenessy in that boy ¨C of course it did. There was something about him that eclipsed what Jok knew of Blessed Warriors, there was another dimension, something that produced inconsistencies in the results that Jok would expect.


    He narrowed his eyes. There were two sides to Jok. He embodied duality more than most men. There was his reckless and impulsive side, and his cautious side. Both reigned supreme above everything else. He would build ns carefully, organize everything around him to the most careful degree, and then he would get a sudden urge to do something irrational.


    Those irrational impulses of his often produced results. Gorm hadmented on it once, in a rare moment of seriousness, as they drank at their cups. "So you have both¡­" he''d said. That was enough for Jok to realize that it was unusual. He liked the unusual, as a man of strategy. The unusual was what threw the enemy off.


    Even if the unusual element was one of weakness, often it could be utilised in such a way that it would produce great strength.


    And now Jok''s impulses sang at him again. They demanded that he engage that boy, and that he crush him. The impulse hit him in an unusual way. It let him know that it was reckless. It did not overpower him. It was merely there as an enticing option.


    Then there was another impulse with it ¨C it was time to take control of the entire battlefield. He''d already made his first move. He''d all but broken the Southern wall, and he still had sixty men under hismand. There was a choice ¨C ignore the boy, allow him to be swept up, and attack the field from more angles, or attack him head-on, and try to find out what it was that kept him so wilful.


    One approach seemed far more likely to seed than the other, and it offered its own kind of temptations. Jok could not lie ¨C the feeling of puppeteering the entire field of battle did set his heart aze. He gave the order.


    "Move east," he said. Just like that, there was a change in the air. Lombard looked up, feeling it. Someone had just mmed a piece down on the Battle board, and now they were nearing total annihtion.


    Gormughed, seeing his expression.


    "SO THERE''S EMOTION IN YOU, AFTER ALL!" He shouted. "DAMN THAT BOY! BUT DAMN HIM PROPERLY ¨C HE''S PUT YOU IN A RIGHT BIND!"


    The pressure changed entirely as Jok shifted his sixty men further to the east, in a position where they could reinforce both the Eastern and Southern walls as needed.


    Gorm''s men had streamed down the length of the Eastern wall by now. At first, they''d attacked it further to the right, whilst Kursak had hit it closer to the left, but by now the force was concentrated down the length of it, forcing the Stormfront soldiers to thin their ranks even more, weakening them.


    Here, those Stormfront men had already broken. Men made their way past Lombard, just as they''d made their way past Tolsey. There were nearly twenty of them behind enemy lines now. All they needed was a moment to reposition, to reorganize, and they''d hit the enemy from the back, and the battle would be over.


    Jok admired it from his position. He''d kept their losses to a minimum. He couldn''t quite attribute their victory entirely to himself, for he knew Gorm would have found a way through regardless, but at the very least, he had stopped that fire that they''d started from spreading. That fire that had begun with the ying of Kursak.


    He''d reversed the momentum entirely, and crushed the Southern front thoroughly.


    The magnitude of that feat, to reorganize his men, and take control at the critical moment, Gorm recognized that. It was one of the few reasons why he hadn''t shouted at the youngmander for disobeying his orders. He too had known something needed to be done. The boy had merely done what was necessary to keep their warring healthy, whilst he engaged in the fray himself.


    "Not long left, Southerner," Gorm told Lombard, as he rested his axe on his shoulder. "You held on longer than expected. Commendable."


    Lombard was a mess by now. His body was riddled with wounds. His chest heaved up and down as his body fought to get the oxygen he needed. He was thoroughly battered, thoroughly filthy, and by all ounts, he looked like a man with one foot in the grave already. Yet still, much to Gorm''s annoyance, despite his state, the man still remained hisposure to an impossible degree.


    It irritated Gorm beyond belief. That kind of calm expression, it was the look of a man that had something else up his sleeve. But Gorm knew there was nothing ¨C Lombard simply didn''t have the men to try anything else.


    Gorm looked past him. He was in no hurry to finish him off just yet. He watched as the men stampeded into the heart of camp. He would have barked at them for their childishness, for not rushing around to immediately hit the enemy in the back, but he had to acknowledge it himself ¨C this had been a hard-fought victory. They deserved their fun.


    A torch was torn from its stand, as the first of many tents caught fire.


    The smoke billowed, and drifted into the distance. It was a smoke that carried with it many emotions. Fear, regret, anxiety.


    "Look girl, it has already fallen," an old man pointed out to N. She tried to speak to them, but none hade to support the cause with her. She turned her eyes towards where he was pointing. Even with the smoke rising so high, it stung her enough to bring tears.


    "No¡­" She said. "There''s no way Beam would lose¡­"


    It was half a muttering, half a moan, there was no power in it. It didn''t speak with the authority needed to convince a crowd of people. It didn''t carry the power needed to move their hearts.


    The Novel will be updated first on this website. Come back and


    continue reading tomorrow, everyone!

 Chapter 295 : The Tigers of The North - Part 11

    They''d been stuck in the same ce for a while, even as they heard the sounds of battle raging off in the distance. They were stuck. Stuck with the family that they''d just rescued, with the vigers that they''d been arguing with hours before, but now that they''d grown closer to, united by amon cause.


    Despair fell over them now, a heavy, invisible curtain. It zed their eyes over and made them long for warmth. It had frozen many of their limbs. They were left out in the cold snow, when their houses were only a distance away.


    That was not to say that all of them were frozen. Some ran in a mad panic, saying that they needed to flee, to gather their things and leave.


    No one stopped them, no one moved to say what was on everyone''s mind.


    "In the middle of winter, flee where?" If there had been a rational voice amongst the crowd, he would have raised that question. The Yarmdon came from their South ¨C they''d burned everything in their path, and they''d only continue to do so. They would continue to march relentlessly south, and any who fled on foot would almost be certainly caught and butchered in a matter of days.


    Then what to do? What was there even to think about? They''d been given sweet hope merely hours before, in their darkest moments, they''d been able to reunite with their children, children that might well have been killed otherwise. They''d found heart in against amon enemy. It had strengthened them, for a time.


    But this¡­ This was something different. This wasn''t something untrained vigers could battle against. The Elite of the Yarmdon, capable of evading Lord ckwell''s men for so long, who were they, mere vigers, to dare to suppose that they had anything to offer that might even slow them?


    N was thinking much the same thing, even as she turned around with desperateness, searching for the right words to speak to them.


    ''We''re all going to die like this¡­ Don''t you see?'' She thought to herself, her voice pitiful and tiny in her head. Her mother was almost assuredly at their house, she knew. It would be so easy just to run there now. What of herself, then? She''d made to run to the battlefield more than once, only toe back.


    She couldn''t arrive without help, and she knew she would be of little help by her lonesome. She knew Beam, she trusted in him. The tents would not be on fire if the enemy were not simply that powerful.


    But what could she say, what might reach them when all else failed? The old man had turned away from her now, almost ufortable. None of them saw any merit in riling themselves up. None of them saw any merit in fleeing either. They''d already given up, they''d already lost hope.


    "YGAMORRRRRRRRRRRR!" A bellow roared across the sky like thunder. The children flinched, and the adults cowered. They''d heard such terrifying roars more than once. Every time, it inspired a fresh wave of fear in their heart.


    But this time, a cry came back.


    "FOR THE STORMFRONT!!!" It roared, it managed to be equally as loud, a roar of raw emotion.


    The vigers looked up, their eyes raised from the floor for the first time in a while. The slightest bit of light returned to them, as they dared to process the cry.


    They''d wondered who it might be, raising such a shout. Was it that Captain that they''d seen, on more than one asion? He''d certainly seemed to be a powerful man¡­ But evidently, not powerful enough.


    "TO THE LAST BREATH!" The voice shouted again, almost gleefully. The vigers listened. It was enough to bring tears unbidden to their eyes, as they stood there, on the precipice of death.


    It was a feeling deep within their hearts, a ckening of their limbs, a surrendering to fear so that it would not consume the mind in the final moments. A decision to merely be still, like a rabbit in the jaws of the wolf. It was afortable instinct, the embrace of death. Even nature had her kindness, that it could allow one to go without kicking, without struggling.


    Those words attacked that resolve in their heart.


    "So they''re not all dead... yet¡­" The same old man that N had been speaking to said, scratching his chin, but there was no hope in his voice.


    They couldn''t know that the boy who''d said such words was smiling. That he''d finally found some measure of peace in his wounded heart.


    He was surrounded by nearly thirty Yarmdon by now. Every part of his body ached with wounds. He found that he liked that too. He''d begun to like the whole thing. He remembered as a child, before his family had been in, he''d often dreamed of bing a soldier. He''d done mock battles with his friends, and those were the very words that he''d screamed out.


    "FOR THE STORMFRONT!" He said again.


    His vocal cords ached to the point of tearing. He was not a loud boy by any means. Such a shout took all he had, but all he had was all that he wanted to give. He wanted to test himself as thoroughly as possible, if these were to be his final moments. He wanted to struggle as mightily as he could.


    His de somehow found more flesh, in what should have been an imprable defence, a sea of bodies.


    Jok watched from a distance. He didn''t have the words to describe what he was seeing. His strategy had been perfect. The camp was overwhelmed. mes danced behind the lone boy as he did battle, it was Jok''s victory, and Gorm''s. Yet why was that boy smiling?


    And there was amander that found himself smiling too. A deep wound to his shoulder rendered his right hand all but useless, as he faced off against the fearsome Gorm, but hearing the cry of the boy, he could not help but smile as well, feeling the irony in it, understanding the humour of it, for he knew the boy. He knew he was like his master ¨C that he felt no loyalty to country.


    And yet he shouted the name of their cause anyway.

 Chapter 296 : The Tigers of The North - Part 12

    Jok watched expectantly, dangerously, his eyes hawkish. The youngmander had excellent instincts. He''d felt a twinge of expectancy at the boy''s cry. It carried with it a gravity equal to a whole group of men. He''d been wary upon hearing it, and he''d tensed up. He knew to respect such forces, for the flow of battle was fickle, and it would all turn in an instant if he took his attention away from it.


    He didn''t understand the boy, so he treated him with the most caution. He was the sole inconsistency in an otherwise wless n, a n that had continued to deliver.


    But nought came from it. Even though Jok had sensed the power in the shout. It was amander''s shout, almost equal to Gorm''s own. The shout of a wilfulmander. But no troops stirred from it. It was then that Jok was hit by a sudden realization, a fact that made him shiver.


    "He''s nomander¡­" he murmured. When he realized that, it all made sense. The way they''d made use of the boy in battle, theck of orders that he''d given to his men, and the boy''s dress. He was something else, something potent, like a hot fire. But he did not have the experience of leadership. That frightened Jok, for he knew the power and potential that came withmanding men.


    It wasmanding men that had made Jok and Kursak as strong as they were. It was that pressure that hardened them, and made them stronger. It was a more effective training weight than any stone or boulder found in the forest.


    Yet this boy had not experienced it, and still managed to match them. No¡­ He managed to surpass them.


    "If he''d known how to lead¡­" Jok shuddered at the thought. The thought of a dangerous enemy. "We will make sure we stamp out that spark here, lest it burn us in the years toe."


    He gave orders, directing his men towards Beam''s rear. He held his hands up, and brought them together, imagining Beam in the middle of them as he crushed him.


    That cry of Beam''s, no matter how much caution Jok paid to it, there could be no signs of its effect. After all, there was no one for it to affect. The Stormfront soldiers were all but wiped out. It was a rallying cry for ghosts.


    Even the vigers, they were not stirred into action by it. They heard the shout, for a certainty, and it made their hearts waver for just a second, but it did not make them grasp for their weapons, as they rushed to fight. If anything, it made them resent that voice. They''d already given up. They didn''t want to relive the torture of mental surrender once again.


    It was only  that the voice changed. Only she, that knew Beam. She could almost hear the smile in his voice. The shout was so different to how he normally sounded. He sounded almost happy. It sent a ripple of sadness through her heart, a ripple of pain.


    She had to clench her fist to deal with the sudden wave of emotion. Fear had been dominant for the longest time, apanied by doubt, but now sadness overturned the two. It wasn''t fair. It was far too cruel.


    Had he not fought enough? Had he not suffered enough? Why did the Gods torture him so, why did that bring such burdens down upon him, no matter how much he struggled? And why was it always left to Beam to fight those burdens on his own?


    Her tired mind reignited at the thought.


    ''No¡­ That''s not it. It was never left to just Beam¡­. It was just Beam that dared to do something about it.''


    Something about his recklessness, something about his painful past, it seemed to inspire him to be a shield. He didn''t do it for love, nor praise, nor even for strength, not really. He simply did it as though he knew nothing else. As though struggle was the only option. N wondered if he even did it for victory..?


    "Ah¡­" She realized. So that was the difference. "If it''s all painful anyway¡­ Then we may as well dance."


    It was a different conclusion to Beam''s, but she almost understood him. Hers was fuelled by the womanly emotions that she oft-ignored. The love of her friends, the love of her family. She dared to dance a dance with death in their name, for their sake, for the slim chance of victory.


    It was a different conclusion, but that was her strength, a strength that Beam could not reach. A strength that was still bound to the world, and all the things in it. It was the strength that she thought Beam had, the true calling of a hero.


    She looked to the frightened children, as they gripped their parent''s legs. There were many children by now. They''de out, when their parents had not returned home, and then there were of course the same children that they''d rescued, still shivering in their borrowed fur cloaks.


    The children had not given up, even if the adults had. The children did not know surrender yet. They did not know true loss, and so they could not ept it.


    She clenched her fist.


    "They haven''t fallen yet," she said, daring to speak up to them. Her heart wavered as a few people looked her way. These people did not want her to speak, they didn''t want to hear the whisper of a valkyrie, tempting them towards violent death, when they knew it would be delivered to them anyway.


    Only a few heard her voice, so she repeated herself, louder this time. "They haven''t fallen yet," she said firmly. Now they were all looking at her, all their attention was firmly on her.


    It made her feel weak in the knees, the gazes of so many people. It always made her feel like that, ever since she''d been saddled with a position of leadership, seemingly out of nowhere.


    Rodrey and Rodrick had been sat nearby, their faces nk. They''d been reunited with their own families. They too looked up as she spoke.


    Now that she had their attention, another wave of unsureness washed over N. She realized she didn''t have the words to convince these people. She couldn''t exin the emotion that she''d felt when she''d heard Beam''s shout. She couldn''t exin that it was far better to have struggled and to have lost, than to merely surrender from the start.


    She believed in the struggle, because she believed in hope. That was the difference between her and Beam. She believed in what struggle could bring. Beam dared not wish for anything from the struggle, he merely believed in the struggle itself.

 Chapter 297: The Tigers of The North - Part 13

    The people turned their faces away ufortably.


    N didn''t have words, she knew that, so she dove straight to the heart of the matter.


    "Why do you not fight?" She asked, her voice harsher than she expected. She sounded angry, she realized. That short girl, with her red hair, sounded as though there was fury in her voice. As though she was a voice on their shoulder, criticising them for their cowardice.


    "Leave it, girl," a manined tiredly. "We''re done. There''s no sense in fighting the Yarmdon. Ain''t no vige ever managed to fight off one of their raids. And this here force? They''re the Elites.


    If even the soldiers don''t stand a chance, then we don''t either."


    There weren''t any murmurs of agreement. It wasn''t as though the vigers wanted to argue with her. They were not strongly on any side of the fence. They''d merely given up. The energy had left their hearts. They didn''t have the strength or will left to resist anything.


    "Beam is fighting there with them, for you," N said. There was no subtlety to her words. She didn''t have the gift of a speaker. A gilded tongue was never her gift.


    Again, they shifted ufortably at that. The same man responded. "¡­That boy is different."


    "Why? It isn''t his fight. He has no family here. It''s you that should be fighting ¨C for your women, for your children. What are you doing, giving up before then?"


    "Then why aren''t you there, girl?" The man spat back, nearly shouting, the rage evident on his face. "You''re just as scared as the rest of us."


    "I am scared!" N shouted at him, childish and honest. "But I''m not going to die here. I''m not going to die without fighting back."


    "What use is there in fighting a fight that you''re certain to lose?" An old man asked, stroking his beard.


    "Because we aren''t certain to lose!" That was N''s answer. Different from Beam''s own. "Until we''re dead, why don''t we fight? You were all so ready to cut down the Elder when he''d taken your children, but now you''re all too cowardly to raise your same axes against the Yarmdon, who are going to do the same, or even worse. You know what they do to women, don''t you?


    Are you going to leave your wives to suffer that fate?"


    They hadn''t nned to. It was an unspoken agreement, that they''d partake in suicide, the moment it was toote. It was amon act for those vigers under the threat of raid. To free the women and children from the sufferings of war the moment before it fell upon them.


    "If you were speaking to a Yarmdon vige, girl, perhaps you would glean more support. Those savages believe that dying with a sword in hand, their Gods will reward them," the same old man said. His words were indifferent. He did not particrly care either way. He had no family left to his name, all that he cared about had long since passed on. These were merely the final moments of a dying world.


    "Does udia not say that our struggle will be rewarded? Do we not struggle here, every winter, when the snow falls, and when the food grows scarce? We fight against the seasons, against things we really can''t control ¨C but these here, they''re just men. They''re men that we can beat, men that we can drive back. Even if we don''t manage to kill them all, we can make them pay for taking from us."


    There was real anger in N''s voice as she said that. Make them pay.


    "I could take a Yarmdon down with me," Rodrey said suddenly. He was never much of a talker, and to hear his words echo out over a vast crowd, it troubled the man as soon as he noticed it. He looked down at his feet. "All I''m saying is, can''t we all? There''s only 300 of them, maybe less now. Maybe just 200 after their fighting with the soldiers.


    There''s 200 of us. I reckon we can take one each, can''t we?"


    "Hah? What the fuck is with this? Rodrey of all people, trying to im he can take a Yarmdon? Where do you get off thinking you''re hot shit? If you can take one Yarmdon, I''ll take two. Don''t be getting full of yourself just because you''re earning some coin taking orders from a girl," finally, one of the stronger men in the vige spoke up.


    Not out of a desire to protect the vige, or even save his family. Merely out of irritation. He couldn''t stomach someone weaker than him trying to reach up towards stars that even he shirked away from.


    N smiled. They were fleetingments from both men, more directed towards themselves than the whole crowd. But that didn''t matter to her.


    "A load of bollox, this¡­" One of Judas'' men made his presence known at the edge of the crowd. "You lot don''t have a clue how to fight. I''ll bet you our man Judas is handling business. If I went and joined in, the whole battle would be over in a matter of minutes."


    It was a cocky remark, more designed to annoy than anything else. Such was the mind of a man that had dly slipped down the rabbit hole of crime, and dug even deeper into its darkened depths. By his eyes, those that didn''t were weak. They were mere prey to be preyed upon. And prey ¨C as they were ¨C could never wield a strength stronger than a fox like him.


    "And Beam is even stronger than Judas," N reminded him. Discover what''s next on m-vl-em,py-r


    There were stirs of realization at that. Judas was a character of lore in the vige. The strongest man for miles around. He was the physical embodiment of strength, his size made that obvious. With Beam, it was harder to picture that strength, given his unremarkable stature. But whenpared to Judas, it made a startlingparison.


    The ice was starting to break, even as waves of fear reemitted themselves. The bolder men got to talking, fuelled by their anger, by other emotions that drowned out their fear, theypeted with each other in front of their wives, simple-minded even in their darkest moments.


    It was the men that the women were looking to, N noticed. There was the faintest glimmer of hope in their eyes. It was ack of a leader that had rendered them so infantile. The Captain had arrived with his soldiers, and he''d takenmand, shooing the rest of them away from the battlefield, as though they did not have worth enough to stand on it.

 Chapter 298: The Tigers of The North - Part 14

    It was difficult to go against the natural order like that. Difficult to overturn the norms of society. Soldiers fought, and vigers farmed. That was the way it was. But in times without soldiers in the vige, when the goblins came, or the mountain beasts wandered too close, it was the men that fought, for there was no one else.


    They needed to be reminded of that. They needed something to startle them out of their fear, their eptance of death. They needed the slightest bit of momentum to push them in the right direction. The honest words of a young girl managed that, to some degree.


    "¡­But if they''re so strong, why are we losing?" One man asked. It was only natural. Not all men were fighters. Not all of them could summon up the aggression needed to y a man.


    His question was a valid one. It hung in the air like a foul smell. The others that had begun to speak up eagerly and boastfully suddenly went quiet, as the magnitude of the threat in front of them was once again reinstated. The possibility of victory was their primary concern.


    "They haven''t lost yet," N said. "Did you not hear them shout? Just because there''s smoke doesn''t mean it''s over. And since you all were saying that you could take a Yarmdon down with you, how about I take down five? Actually, ten, since I''m that much stronger than you."


    She grinned ruefully, sticking her tongue out at them. Their anger exploded all at once. It was the hunters especially, those that had already been building up a resentment towards N for her recent antics over the past weeks.


    "You''re too full of yourself, girl! You can barely draw that bow of yours!" Came one shout.


    Half of the other men were on their feet at that, shouting at each other and shouting at her. She watched them all, unable to keep the smile off her face. She was hit by a sudden realization: humans really were simple creatures.


    Even in their darkest moments, drowned out by impossible despair, and the crushing weight of an impossible fear, they could still find it in themselves to give way to rage, or evenughter.


    ''So that''s what a good leader does¡­'' She realized. He guided the emotions of his men, so that they could disy their truest strength. That was where morale came from. She realized too that she didn''t have it in her to perform such a task. She couldn''t lead a party of people. The most she could do was talk to individuals.


    In the end, all the vigers had needed was a little push, something to stir the pot. They''d been ready to take care of the rest of that themselves.


    "Aren''t you lot riled up?" Came a sudden voice. The angry murmurings of the crowd died down as they turned to look at him. Greeves and his group of prostitutes ran along beside him.


    There was blood on that woman''s hands, N noted. That woman who always wore a perfect smile. She wasn''t smiling now though.


    Greeves too, who always wore an aura of confidence, he looked haggard and weak. There was a sword in his hands, and blood on his clothes. N did not know it, but the man had ovee a Yarmdon to reach them, even if it had been a surprise attack.


    "Is it battle that you''re looking for? Is it? Why haven''t you been on the front lines already? This is why the nobility treat you like dogs. You can''t get moving until someone cracks you with the whip. Well, rejoice.


    I''ll whip the lot of you. I have a dog of my own on that front line, by the name of Judas, I''m thinking it''s time to snatch him back," Greeves said.


    Angry barks came his way.


    "Piss off, merchant! This is no fight of yours."


    "I would have thought you''d be half the country away by now, cowardly as you are."


    Greeves held up his hand to quiet them. "Don''t misunderstand. You lot mean nothing to me. Fight, don''t fight. You''re dogs to the very end. Stand here and weep, as the Yarmdon butcher your children, and rape your women."


    He spared a nce at N. "I''ll wager that the only reason you''re showing the slightest bit of fight is because this girl goaded you into it. That''s the difference between you and me. And I''m a dog all the way through, just like the rest of you. But I''m a dog that spits on the Gods, and their fate, the impossible odds that they thrust against us.


    Doubt it if you like, I''m going to fight these Yarmdon whores, even as you cower in fear."


    N raised her eyebrows in shock. Every word that Greeves uttered was dripping with venom. There was pure malevolence steaming from his tongue. His eyes were haunted by darkness. The more he spoke, the more a dark rage projected out from him. When he said to the vigers that they meant nothing to him, she truly believed it.


    "You''ll fight?" Judas'' man from earlier spoke up. He''d worked with Greeves for a long time now. He was more surprised than the rest of them. He would have thought that Greeves was thest person to fight on the frontlines. "Why bother?"


    It was a question echoed in the eyes of the rest of the vigers, even as they looked at Greeves with hatred, pure loathing. The prostitutes behind him cowered under their res. Only Loriel stood tall. N didn''t understand those people, and their darkness.


    "Why? Because I''m a damned good merchant, that''s why. I know shit all about warfare, but I feel the flow of value. That boy, his worth is only going to increase. I''m not letting an investment of that size die so early. I''ll fight, because I don''t believe we''ll lose."


    The man paused a moment. "¡­You payin''?"


    "Aye," Greeves said, without pause.


    "Then I''ll fight with ya," he said. The cruel and the criminal, they had their own kind of respect. Greeves was the darkest of them, who''d risen up high enough, that he could walk freely in the light of the normal world. They admired that. They trusted hispetence. The man was crueller and more cunning than any of them.


    They believed in that cruelty more than they believed in pretty words and nice-sounding sentiments.


    The man rose up, and with him, six other men followed. Six dangerous men. They''d been waiting in the wings, as chaos descended upon the vige, and they''d delighted in it. They''d sat in wait for a fitting opportunity, a juicy amount of meat to dig their teeth into. It was not what they''d expected, but they''d been thrown meat anyway, and they dove on it happily.

 Chapter 299: The Tigers of The North - Part 15

    Greeves looked coldly down upon the rest.


    "You lot are no allies of mine. You''ve got more to protect than me, and yet still you squabble. That''s why the weak are always having something torn from their grasp. You''ve got to take what you want, and be willing to be a devil in the process," he said. Listening to him, N could well believe that was just what he''d done. Greeves must have felt her gaze, for he spared her a nce.


    "Or you can cling to strong sentiments, like this girl, and that boy. I dunno which is stronger, nor do I care. It''s the end result that matters. So, for you dogs that are stillining, who are still clinging to excuses, I''ll cut off ya escape route. Under my mansion, I have a hidden vault, with steel woven into stone walls. Those Yarmdon brutes will never find it.


    There''s enough room in there for yer kids, if you care for them. My girls will look after them ¨C they''ve kinder hearts than me."


    N widened her eyes in surprise at that. "Is that true..? Will they really be safe there?"


    "Nine out of ten times, I''d say they survive in there. Better odds than what''s going on for the rest of us, ain''t it? Or can you really stillin?" Greeves said.


    "What of the women?" A man asked.


    Greeves spat at that. "You mistake me for a saint. My girls and your children, that''s all they will hold. If you want to protect your women too, then you''d better fight."


    "I''m sick of your speel, merchant," the same brutish man from earlier spoke up. Just as Rodrey''s im that he could take a Yarmdon irritated him, so too did Greeves talking down to him. "I''m finding I want your guts more than the enemy''s now. But damn it, I''ll take you up on your cursed offer. I''ll send my boy to your vault, and I''ll go and get me some Yarmdon heads in the meantime."


    Greeves nodded. N noted the carefulness in that nod. He didn''t try to rial anyone up with it. It was a nod of reassurance. The nod of a man that knew how to work emotions. Though he knew how to work emotions, as N had noted a leader needed to, the merchant was no leader.


    He was a provocateur, albeit it an extremely effective one.


    More men began to speak up, men of the hardier sort, iming their spot on the battlefield.


    "I won''t be outdone by some skinny armed merchant. Watch, Daisy. The strength of a real working man, it blows the soldiers out the water."


    "MERDIGARMMM!" A cry came from the battlefield nearby, like a gust of roaring wind. It chilled their hearts, and allowed the fear to return, for just a second. They remembered the enemy that they''d be facing.


    "Loriel, take the kids away," Greeves ordered. "We''ve got to get moving, before this whole thing copses."


    But Loriel merely shook her head at hismand. "I leave it to Audrey," she said, a smile that was a mix of sadness and resolve.


    Greeves nced at her, his eyes surprised for a moment. But something passed through that exchange that N couldn''t decipher. A hidden understanding. For a moment, Greeves cast his eyes downwards, sharing in a mutual sadness. But, eventually, he nodded.


    "And now I have two women fighting with me," he said, purposefully loud. "Audrey, lead them away."


    A small crowd of children went with the prostitutes. They moved with obvious urgency. But even then, the children continually looked back, their faces unsure and searching, as they looked to their parents, and their friends who had not joined them.


    As they went away, more parents hurriedly sent their children to join them. With quick hugs and tearful partings, they rolled the dice, daring to trust that they would hold a better chance at survival elsewhere.


    Continue your adventure with m|v-l''e-NovelBin


    Even that thought did not make it any easier though. There was a contradiction in it, for even if they had been set to die earlier, at least they had been together. There was a sureness in that, a certainty that managed to stand up to the fear and despair. But here and now, as they dared to hope once more, that unsureness returned, along with weakness and doubt.


    Soon, it was not the individual that had to make the decision, for the majority of the crowd had already done it for them. There was no resisting its pull, the pressure of conformity. Even the most hesitant of families sent their children away, a huge snaking stream of them by now, leading all the way to Greeves'' house.


    N watched them go with apprehension. She hadn''t seen her mother amongst the crowd, nor her little brother. Their absence shook her.


    "She''s at the camp," Greeves said, guessing what she was thinking. "Or at least she was, thest I saw her. Ain''t that your little brother there? Your neighbours were looking after him, weren''t they?"


    At Greeves'' pointing, she finally looked up to see. Amongst the crowd of leaving children, where N had thought there was no chance he could be, she saw the face of her younger brother, desperately looking behind him, trying to get her attention, as he was led away by the hand, by a girl just slightly his elder.


    She bit her lip, seeing that distraught expression on his face.


    Their eyes made contact, and she clenched her fist. She got rid of all traces of fear and doubt from her face, and gave him the most resolute nod that she could. He was too far away for words, so she hoped that she might be able to get her feelings across with that.


    ''We won''t lose,'' she tried to tell him. ''We won''t.''


    He was getting so far away by now, that it was hard for N to tell, but she was sure she saw him nod back, and put on his bravest face.


    She felt more relief than she had expected at that. It was only her mother that worried her now. In that camp, that sea of mes, where Greeves imed she had stayed behind¡­ Was it already toote?


    The doubt returned again. Perhaps she should have left earlier. In the end, it had turned out that both people had been in the same ce, both her mother and Beam. But then, what could she have done on her own?

 Chapter 300: The Tigers of The North - Part 16

    By now, the crowd had hardened itself. They had already begun preparations for battle, and there was no reversing that decision now. The children had been sent away. The families watched them go, their expressions mixed. Some with fiery looks, like men truly ready for battle, while others looked even lonelier and more unsure than they had just minutes before.


    "There''s no time," Greeves barked at them. "I can see ya all trying to sort your minds out for this, but damn it, there''s no time. We aren''t soldiers. There''s never going to be a right time for us. The sooner we get moving the better."


    They could hear cries from the battlefield even as Greeves spoke. It was a terribly uninviting prospect to run into that. In towards that sea of ever-expanding mes, and that hell pit of desperate cries.


    N shared Greeves'' urgency. If they arrived and the soldiers had already fallen, if Beam had already fallen¡­ Then it would all have been for nought.


    A quick look at the crowd, and it was obvious that they weren''t ready. They weren''t a single unit, they never would be. They were a disorganized mob with half-arsed intentions. Some held their weapons, their tools and axes, with a keenness, others let them dangle from their wrists limply, as they stood by their wives.


    But there could be no more waiting. Neither N nor Greeves were capable of turningmon vigers into a war band. All they could do was urge them to fight, urge them to struggle, and urge them not to give up until the very end.


    It was the women that caused the most doubt now. Perhaps the men would have been more eager to follow if they knew that both their women and their children were safe. But there had been no room for such luxuries.


    Greeves turned around, trusting that if he started to move, then the rest would follow. He did well to put up a calm front, but he could not deny the pounding of his heart, or the sweat that coated his back.


    ''Damn it,'' he cursed to himself, as he reflected on their particrly dire circumstances, and his particrly dire position. Never in his life did he think he''d be leading a war band, and especially not to save someone else.


    He took his first step forward towards the fires of battle. The air was biting cold, but Greeves could swear that he felt the heat of those burning tents already. He could feel the aura of battle even from afar. That which he''d only just escaped. His legs shook as he stepped back towards it.


    But none could tell that of him, he moved with his usual confidence, his usual swagger. His men followed after him. Loriel gave a pointed look to the crowd before she followed them, as if testing them, goading them.


    The men noted the look, even more than the women. Their anger had been thoroughly stoked. Thatst little look, as the woman drew her dagger, and went to join the battlefield alongside that merchant, even as her long purple dress trailed in the snow behind her¡­ It was such a thoroughly ridiculous sight, that any man who dared to retreat after seeing it, he could be called no man at all.


    The men felt that, even before N hurried to join them, the crowd was already moving after Greeves. Slow and steady at first, the most eager of men leading them, the men who had a true fire in their eyes, a true soldier''s spirit from the anger that had been stoked up.


    They were eventually followed by hordes of the rest, those that weren''t quite as sure, but those who didn''t want to die as cowards anyway.


    Before her eyes, N witnessed the mind of the mob. How emotions greater than their own could so easily corrode the will of the individual, and thrust them into action.


    Amongst the men, even a handful of eager women began to join. They were the more tom-boyish women at first, those with broader shoulders than even some of the men, but soon enough, other meeker women began to join. Women that hadn''t held a weapon in their lives, but wanted to stand up and fight for themselves nheless.


    Finally, N turned on her heel to hurry towards the head of the party at a jog, her bow slung over her shoulder, ready to be drawn should the moment arise.


    She was not want to see it, but her tiny figure at the head of the war band had ample effect. Many of the vigers recalled seeing that shock of red hair barrelling around the vige in her younger years, causing trouble. It was hard to miss her. Discover hidden stories at m,v l''e-NovelBin


    And now, as small as she still was, she was ready toy down her life like the rest of them, to protect what was important to her. No, she was even quicker to do it than them. She''d believed in something from the start, even before they did.


    They''dbelled it the naivety of youth, as they struggled to whip up their own fighting spirit, but now as they shifted forward, it was hard not to wonder if it was something else.


    That tiny little back became an innocent beacon of light for them. The same voice that had stirred them into a frenzy, despite her weakness, it became a symbol for their cause. That there was the back that they needed to protect. A back the same size as their children''s.


    Greeves picked up the pace to a jog. He was not a fit man, that much was evident. As soon as he allowed his feet to pick up the pace, he felt his legs ache, and his lungs began to grow panicked. Years ofcking physical activity had left him in such a state, but he could notin. The adrenaline was thumping through his blood.


    From the front, there was the oppressive force of battle, that which not only drove him backwards, away from it, but also downwards, into the earth, as though trying to get him to dig his own grave, before the cruelties of war delivered it to him anyway.


    But now there was an army at his back. He did not even have to look, for he could hear it, and he could feel it.

 Chapter 301: The Tigers of The North - Part 17

    A quick nce over his shoulder, and he could see men matching his pace, with a clustering of women mixed in with them.


    Greeves estimated there to be two hundred men and fifty women in total. They weren''t bad numbers. It was only the old that was left behind, along with those hundred or so women that knew their worth in battle hardly existed. They wanted to stay alive for the sake of their children. But even they were riddled with doubt, as they attempted to stand their crowd.


    Read exclusive content at m_v-l''-NovelBin


    Some even ran to join, pulled in by the will of the crowd, giving in to that overwhelming uncertainty that gnawed at them.


    Ferocious though it was, and empowering, to see two hundred and fifty vigers marching with a single cause, with such determination, Greeves was under no illusions. He knew that this was no fighting band. He knew that their morale would shatter at the first rock of resistance that they felt.


    But simrly, as long as momentum was on their side, they could be a great river of chaos, enough to upset the tides of battle, and shift the bnce in their favour.


    Those hundreds of feet crunched across the frozen ground towards battle. N''s light feet soon took ahead of the rest, as her anxiousness took over her, and Greeves'' poor fitness took over him.


    The fires of the tents weren''t quite as all-consuming as they seemed from a distance, that was what N noted as they drew closer. But nor did they ring of safety. Nearly half of the tents had caught me, and that fire was only spreading.


    "Mother¡­" She said quietly to herself, as they neared it.


    The mes of war were spreading further. Jok watched from a distance, his smile of satisfaction tainted.


    "How¡­ How is he still not dead?" He asked himself. Amidst a sea of burning tents, that boy was still hanging on. There had been thirty men gathered around him, and somehow, no matter how many blows theynded, he seemed unwilling to fall.


    There was that Captain too, on the other side of the battlefield. Gorm was still not done with him yet, but Jok could sense that the fight was already over. Yarmdon men streamed past him, and tore into the camp. The second that Gorm wished to finish him off, he would be able to. But that man wanted to break him first, it seemed.


    He could not help that gnawing feeling in his chest, the feeling of offness, the feeling that he''d overlooked something. Yet what could he have overlooked? The boy battled on, but even if his me was strong, it would still soon die out. Jok''s men were wearing on him, after all, the youngmander could see it.


    And yet, why was there still a tension in the flow of battle? There were only two men of any significance still yet alive. Jok could see no sign of any other remaining soldiers, and yet something was off.


    Beam battled in a sea of darkness, his mind quiet.


    There were men to his back now, as well as to his front. They''d encircled himpletely. It was significantly more difficult to deal with, even if the number of total men was equal.


    They''de streaming in from Lombard''s side, and pinned themselves to his back. They''d thought it would be a quick battle, an easy victory, only for them to get caught up in yet another gruelling onught.


    A thick gash ran down Beam''s back, from where the first surprise attack had caught him. He''d managed to react, but not quite quickly enough, and he was paying the price for it. The wound hampered his movements somewhat, and the dull shocks of pain continually bled throughout his body.


    A battle like this ¨C for a warrior of Beam''s proclivities ¨C could not have been worse. It was his perception that he''d always struggled with, and now it was his perception that he had to rely on entirely to keep him alive.


    And yet alive he still was. Another attack came storming from his back, an attack that he could not see, or hear. Yet his tired sword-arm crept up to parry it anyway. Then the de shed again, stabbing into the flesh of an exposed arm, and digging deep into the shoulder.


    He could not finish the man, though. Another set of strikes was alreadying his way. It was an endless wave of them. One man would attack from the back, whilst another attacked from the front, and then another attacked off to the side. It was relentless, maddening even.


    It was like trying to catch all the different droplets of rain as they bounced off the roof. The Yarmdon were untrained in groupbat, or at least, they were unorganized, for their training was done aplenty ¨C it was simply carried out on the field of battle.


    Rather than a group, they were more a set of individuals. They didn''t move toplement each other. They simply paid the barest amount of attention to not hitting each other with their blows, and the rest was fair game. They would attack whenever they felt it was a good opportunity, and then reposition themselves in the crowd when they thought they could find a better shot.


    The only saving grace was really in their size. Though Beam was surrounded by thirty men, thirty men could not attack at once. At most, it was six at a time. But then those six would flow into another six, in a relentless stream of them. It was a cycle of agony, one that had gone on for nearly five minutes by now, after Lombard''s section of the wall had crumbled.


    A sword followed up thest axe, aiming for his stomach. At the same time, another de came slicing in towards his shoulder, and another towards his back.


    Beam dealt with the attack to the front of him first. With the lightest of touches, he redirected it, and then ducked and spun to deal with those attacks that he''d felt at his back.


    His sword once again drew blood, this time, it buried its way into a man''s throat. The giant red at Beam with widened eyes, as he looked down at the steel that had run through his neck. He tried to say something, but only blood and spittle came out. Beam withdrew his de, and the giant fell to the earth next to him.


    Jok watched in horror from a distance.


    "Another one!?" He could hardly believe it. He was sure that they''d been wearing the boy down, and yet, once more, the boy had found an equilibrium, and he''d ovee it, turning the tide of his local battle.

 Chapter 302: The Strings of Fate - Part 1

    It didn''t make sense to Jok. It went against all the experience that he''d gathered. How, against such crushing weight, could a boy of that strength not be crushed?


    The Yarmdonmander had realized it a time ago ¨C it was not the boy''s strength that was holding him up. It was something else. An unbelievable resilience. It was as though they were trying to cut at and grasp the wind. The more force they sent at him, and the harder they tried, the more difficult it became.


    "Gorm would end him in a single swing¡­ but still, this is¡­ this is unnerving," Jok said with a shudder. It was as though he was battling a ghost rather than a man.


    In the gloom of uncertainty, there wavered a few dots left of dying light. In the void of the unknown, a will was born, a hope, shared by many. A hope for a solution to an impossible problem. The hope for the strength to ovee a crushing and pressing obstacle, that was their hope.


    Through the course of their lives, they had not been strangers to such moments. Those moments where the world transformed itself into a quagmire, where the very ground beneath their feet disappeared, and they sank deeper and deeper into the problems that assailed them. When the world was nothing but muddy and murky, when their hearts could summon no cause or direction.


    Those moments, they suffered them alone, or they suffered them with family. It was rare that a whole vige suffered together, that it shouldered a burden of that magnitude together. None of them had truly been ced on even footing like that before. In one way or another, their fellow man might have held advantage of disadvantage, lightening the load they felt, or perhaps even increasing it. Enjoy exclusive content from m-v l''-NovelBin


    But this rock, this crushing boulder, it sought to tten them all equally. It was not simply strength that could shift it ¨C or at least, not their level of strength. Nor was it careful nning, or a honed intellect. They couldn''t even rely on luck, and believe that, chances being what they were, the odds of victory weren''t too bad at all. No, all was against them.


    To plough forward with a murky and uncertain heart. To move one''s feet simply because standing in ce was no longer tolerable. To shuffle about madly in the unknown. That was what the vigers of Solgrim were forced into. From the moment the Yarmdon descended upon the vige, they''d already lost.


    Their nning hadn''t been adequate, they should have done this, and they should have done that. They should have been prepared for such an invasion, and prepared for the possibility that the soldiers might lose. Those were the only sorts of thoughts that their minds could conjure up, thoughts that were purementations, as they cursed theirck of foresight.


    They cursed their leaders too. That Elder that had betrayed them, and then themselves for trusting them. The heads of the various merchant households, for not being of any use in the time of crisis. Not a single one of them had stepped forward to lead.


    They''d been drowning in the void of despair just as deeply as the rest of them, perhaps even more so, for their positions being what they were, as men and women that lived rtivelyfortably, to have been brought so low was a shocking thing.


    Now they were rendered just as weak as they had been the moment that they''de into the world. Animated, and unsure. This was unfamiliar territory to them. This weight that hung in the air, these dangerous men that they had topete with. They''d closed the distance now enough to make out shapes. It wore on their hearts to see them ¨C to see their first Yarmdon up close.


    They were terrifying.


    Lombard felt the shift in the air. Gorm noticed it too.


    The giant sniffed, as he halted his axe for just a moment. He looked out across the battlefield, at the disorganised stream of bodies, as the vigers charged out of their vige towards the east.


    A grin spread across his face. "Hah¡­ That''s more like it. That''s more like it! Waiting to die like patheticmbs, spit on that. A MAN SHOULD DIE WITH A SWORD IN HAND!" He bellowed, before taking a look at Lombard again.


    "Maybe if they''de earlier, this might have gone differently, eh?" His smile showed his ckened teeth. "But Jok''s already seen theming."


    His words rang true. Lombard had sensed that. He was fumbling about in the same darkness that the vigers were, looking for that same spark, that same puzzle piece that he needed to shift the overwhelming problem. But he did so without giving into despair. He''d been plunged into the dark waters many times before. He knew that all one needed to do was continue swimming ¨C that was all one could do.


    "A special little vige, this has been," Gorm said, nodding in acknowledgement. "You Southerners have finally left your mark. Let''s get this over with, whilst the taste is still sweet in my mouth."


    In an instant, his battle axe went from resting against his shoulder, to snaking towards Lombard''s side in a staggeringly strong blow. That was the quickest the giant had moved in their entire fight. Lombard''s eyes widened like a cat''s as he attempted to follow the movement.


    His body was beyond exhausted by now. Parrying even a single one of Gorm''s blows was enough to shake a man''s skeleton like a sapling tree in the wind. Pairing as many as Lombard had? That was a recipe for disaster. But he had no choice. The giant Gorm was far too quick for him.


    It was all Lombard could do to hold on, and buy time.


    Once more Gorm''s axe hammered home into Lombard''s de. Sparks flew, and Lombard grunted from exertion, as he desperately tried to slow the force of the attack. His elbow bent at an odd angle. His tired muscles were too exhausted to stabilise the joint properly. Barely, just barely, that ringing de managed to miss his flesh.

 Chapter 303: The Strings of Fate - Part 2

    But Gorm took a step in, far faster than he had before. His axe shot out again, viciously fast. An overwhelming attack, without the slightest shred of exertion upon his face. It became clear to Lombard then, that the giant had been holding back.


    "Of course you had¡­" Lombard murmured, a wry smile on his face. "That wille back to bite you, though."


    Gorm did not care what the man had to say. He saw past the smile. He knew it to be bravado by now. They was nothing more the man could do. After all, he''d failed to bring his de back in time ¨C that parry had cost him far too much. And now, his hand flew through the air, and a river of blood ran from where Gorm had severed it.


    ''Credit to the man,'' Gorm thought. ''He did not even flinch.''


    He nced at the stream of blood. It would have made sense, in an odd sort of way, for the man''s blood to be darker than what Gorm was used to. Or at least, in the eyes of the Northern giant, it would have. The trickster was of a fundamentally different makeup than he was used to. To the very end, he did not understand them.


    But even as he looked, and Lombard''s blood pooled on the floor, it was the same deep red that he was familiar with. It flowed just as smoothly as the rest of them. The sand in the hourss that ran out, signifying the end of life.


    Blood was being spilled aplenty on that battlefield, as the corpses began to pile up. Beam''s sword imed another life, as the Yarmdon pressed in around him. He could feel the heat of the tents burning at his back, and somewhere off in the distance, he could hear a cheer resounding out.


    He might have wondered if that cheer had signified Lombard''s death, but Beam had long since passed away from the state of mind where one might think freely. He navigated a different ne of reality to the normal man. He hardly saw the world around him. Each man looked the same as the rest ¨C he couldn''t distinguish patterns.


    Even as the world gave way to simplicity, and his body too reduced itself to simplicity, the pain, of all things, did not dull. The body seemed unable, or unwilling, to dampen that sensation. He felt the full weight of it, his only tether to an otherwise slipping reality.


    He felt his legs stumble for the first time, and he took a knee,nding on his shoulder in the slippy snow. An axe thudded into the ground next to keep, carving a wound across his cheek. Beam did not see the man that held the weapon, but he thrust his sword out towards where he thought he was anyway. Again, his sword came back red, and again, he took another life.


    Even on the ground as he was, the Yarmdon were hesitant. They formed a circle around him, as Beam struggled back to his feet, doing what he could to keep his bnce. The boy was so exhausted by now, that he could not even control his jaw. A trail of spittle left his mouth, as he fiercely concentrated on merely enduring.


    "Balheim¡­" One of the men muttered, as he kept his distance. He''d been in battle with the boy for over ten minutes now. He''d seen himst, even as they pressed in on him with an increasing number of men, even as they smothered him with their shields. A foreign boy, half their size, he endured more than any man he''d seen before.


    His murmurings drew attention, for he was not the only one to have thought so. Stay connected with m-v l|e''m,p| y- r


    The boy waved his sword at them as they tried to take a step forward, forcing them to keep their distance, somehow still clinging to that feeling of battle that he had developed, even as his movements grew simpler and simpler, more and more animalistic.


    It was like a g was being waved at them, scorning the destiny that all the Yarmdon sought. As though their Gods, who they knew favoured the hardy and the brutal, it was as if they''d possessed the enemy, and disregarded their own.


    The legend of Balheim, one of their God''s favoured. He that had hefted a whole tree trunk on his shoulders whilst drunk, and walked for a mile with it, merely because the battlefield hadn''t contained anyone worthy enough for him to challenge.


    He always went where the fighting was thickest. The hero of over a hundred battles. A man, who, legend said, once held off an army by his lonesome. After his allies were crushed and ughtered within the opening turns of battle, for a full day and a full night, he continued to war on, defending a mountain pass.


    Eventually, when the weather turned, a thousand men were forced to retreat, turned away by a single man.


    Only in his hundredth year, did the man finally fall. It took until then for the Gods'' favour to finally leave him, and he died a mighty death, upon the field of battle, as he choked the life from the enemymander with his bare hands, and themander''s bodyguard pierced him with nearly twenty spears.


    Beam was no Balheim, though, despite his struggling. His wounds were piling up, and he was giving more and more ground. He was more like a wounded tiger, that refused to stop struggling until its heart stopped beating.


    And now with a noise to their left side, Beam''s resistance became a rock. A ruthless boulder that trapped those thirty-something men in ce, as they were hit by a wave that should not have been there.


    "RETREAT!" Jok gave the order. His voice was raised, but his heart was calm. They''d already won the battle, he knew that. Even if he left his men there, the vigers would onlyst for as long as they held the momentum. As soon as Jok chose to send reinforcements, and peppered them with arrows, they would be ttened.

 Chapter 304: The Strings of Fate - Part 3

    There was still that feeling in Jok''s chest to contend with, though. That fear of what wasing. The dreadful premonition. It hadn''t left him. In fact, as victory neared, it only grew stronger. Indeed, the vigers joining the battle was a surprise ¨C but it wasn''t what he feared.


    Their resistance had been noted from the start.


    He gave the order for his men to retreat early, to minimize casualties in that first charge ¨C the only real time that the thrown-together force of empty-hearted vigers would be effective.


    Those at the edge of the fort, who hadn''t quite made the engagement yet, they noted the approaching tide of angry vigers, roaring their dismay as they charged at their backs. The giants began to shift, but there was no urgency in their movements. They couldn''t bring themselves to fear such a rabble, not truly. Each of those men had plenty of experience in battle, after all.


    It was the men that had surrounded Beam that drew the worst luck. They were all but pinned in ce. The same man that had murmured the name Balheim was forced to nce over his shoulder at the encroaching swell of men. Half the Yarmdon began to turn, shields pointed out, ready to meet the charge.


    But, there were still those that dared not take their eyes off Beam, that felt his ferocity even as he struggled to get back onto his feet. The second the tension ckened, his sword danced once again, targeting the enemy that had been foolish enough to ignore him.


    A shield was raised, and his sword nced off the edge of it. The enemy at his back pinned him in ce with their attacks, once more swiping at him in their disorganized manner. But with the enemies to his front ¨C those enemies that were most eastern ¨C distracted by the new threat, their backs began to turn, and the encirclement lost some of its sting.


    The vigers voiced their battle cries. More of the Yarmdon men were forced to turn towards them. Their shields locked into a wall on instinct. The vigers saw that wall, as more of the Yarmdon stragglers ¨C those that had not been able to retreat in time ¨C joined it.


    With more than thirty men joined together by now, it made for an intimidating sight, especially for those vigers that had never seen battle in their life.


    Greeves had long since been swept up in the tide of men. His fitness had cost him, and he was now more towards the middle of the pack. He was grateful for that. He certainly didn''t want to be the one to break against that shield wall.


    He could feel those at the front hesitate, and he could feel their pace slow down, enough that he began to catch up to them.


    ''That''s not it!'' He almost dared to shout, warning them that the momentum was the only thing keeping them alive. But he was no battlemander. He could feel the fear just as strongly as the rest of them. It was more the people rushing at their backs that were forcing the vigers continually forward by now, rather than their own aggression, their own will to crush.


    He saw N draw an arrow as she ran. She ran like she was hunting a rabbit, crouching low to the ground. Slipping the arrow into her bowstring, she drew it, and unleashed it, with a single swift motion, a motion that seemed tock the part where she took aim.


    Your next journey awaits at m v|l-e''m,p| y- r


    But, even as casual as her firing was, it was more than deadly. The smallest cracks of face peered over the shield wall, just enough so that they could see the enemy approaching. That was enough for N. There was a cry of dismay on the left-most part of that wall, as a man fell forward, dead in an instant, with an arrow through his eye.


    "We should have been going for the centre," Greeves murmured to himself, even as he breathed heavily. "Woulda done more to ruin the stability of the wall."


    Even as Greevesined, more cries ran out, and more men died, in the vicinity of where N had been firing. He''d taken his gaze away from her for just a second, and he was sure she hadn''t put another arrow on her bowstring in that time. Yet, two more men had died.


    "Those aren''t arrow wounds¡­" He noted, as he saw a man copse forward, his shoulder barely hanging on. From the nature of those wounds, he dared hope.


    Another man cried out from within the wall. It was as though a wind of des was attempting to tten it. Beam''s sword burrowed its way through the back of a man''s knee. The Yarmdon were only paying him half the attention that they should have been, and every attack that he swung imed another life, with the enemy socking in resistance.


    The men at his back that had been attempting to hold him in ce scrambled after him. The hairs on the back of Beam''s neck rose, as he heard the footsteps creeping up behind him, as the same perception that had kept him alive for so long once more warned him of an iing attack.


    He turned to deal with it, but just as he did, a gust of air rushed past him, and the Yarmdon halted his axe mid-swing. He stood frozen for a second, stunned. It felt as though he had been stung by a particrly venomous bee. The axe slid from his hand, and he reached up a finger to check his cheek, where he felt the pain. His fingers hit the wood of an arrow shaft.


    The second understanding ran through his brain, his legs copsed from under him, and he died.


    Beam nced over towards where he thought the arrow hade from. He caught a sh of red. Not the colour of blood that he had grown so used to, but a brighter and warmer red, tinged with brown. A red that was the warmth that came with the fire after a long day of work in the cold.


    His eyes could not make out more of her than that, but they didn''t need to. He was well aware of who it was.


    Finally, she caught the first true sight of him, and her heart wavered a moment. He looked the roughest N had ever seen him ¨C and she had seen him looking rather rough. She''d seen him after his defeats and victories at the hands of the Hobgoblin, but none couldpare to the state he was in now. From head to toe, the boy was covered in blood.


    It was hard to make out which was the enemy''s and which was his own. If she were feeling particrly optimistic, she might have said that it all belonged to the enemy. But she could see the cuts through his clothes, and at times, she could see the markets upon his skin. There was a particrly gruesome wound on his back.

 Chapter 305: The Strings of Fate - Part 4

    Yet the boy swung, as he always did. He seemed to know just how to make best use of her arrows. She''d consciously thought about how best she could help him, even as she charged at the head of a warband, and she dared to hope that a mere few arrows to his rer would at least help.


    More than help, they reversed the tide of battle for Beam entirely. He''d been sat in a ring of thirty men, forced to maintain the most perfect of bnces, forced to operate at his highest capacity, merely to stay alive. He trimmed the waste as best he could ¨C or at least, his body had. He''d rid his mind of thought, and merely operated on feeling.


    With such a sense for the equilibrium, with such a sense for everything, really, just the slightest of shifts in his favour was enough. To Beam, those arrows from N weighed far more on the tide of battle than she thought they had. They inspired a fear in the enemy, an uncertainty. They''d been rigid and strong before, but now they were buckling.


    Those men that had been going for his back, they knew to hesitate, and those men to his front, they could do very little to defend against his attacks, lest they leave themselves entirely open to the viger''s charge.


    Beam''s Poison Water Style went to work then. It was finally given the leeway it needed to operate. With his mind absent as it was, he felt his finger on the pulse of battle better than he ever had before.


    That which he''d been trying to learn from Dominus, that line of force that ran through every conflict, that efficiency of movement, that telling flow ¨C he was finally able to make stronger contact with it. Every movement mattered, every detail ran into the next. No movement could be wasted.


    A man turned to him as though in slow motion. He was one of the few Yarmdon that wielded spears ¨C though, these were spears of a different sort, half the length of the ones that the Stormfront favoured, which were more suited to fighting as a group.


    The man''s weapon held no threat in close. He struggled to reposition himself, to take a step back and establish distance. His eyes widened, as his heart thumped against his ribcage, and he tried to follow the movements of Beam. He knew to fear the boy ¨C he''d been in the encirclement against him just a moment ago.


    ''But he hadn''t moved this fast then¡­'' It was only the man''s thoughts that could attempt to keep up with Beam''s de, for his arm couldn''t. Beam severed it at the wrist, and then grabbed his shoulder, and spun him around, managing to slit the man''s throat as he did so, not a single movement wasted.


    Even as the man died, his spray of blood inconvenienced hisrades. By the slightest of fractions, it obscured Beam''s movements. As he ran on to the next man, he finished him even more easily than the first. The body of the first hit the shoulder of the second. He kicked the second with it, and now two bodies were falling, spraying blood, even as Beam rushed on to the third.


    The third man felt the weight of two corpses crushing in on him. Beam ducked, and cut him behind the knee. He didn''t need to finish him off yet ¨C the corpses copsed on top of him. With no leg to resist the weight, the man copsed under the weight of it.


    Beam was on to the fourth before the fourth could even note what was happening. He''d heard a scream, and turned to look, but now he was met with chaos. A web of problems that went beyond merely a single swording his way. There was a spray of blood, and a mound of bodies, all of them inconveniencing, all of them demanding his attention as things to be solved.


    Such was the moment that Beam had built up, the feeling he''d built up. To make use of everything around him, to the best that he could. Not to n for something, for there were no thoughts in his mind to allow for that, he didn''t have the energy, but merely to react in the moment, to feel for the flow of battle, and to nudge as many things in the direction of its flow as he could.


    The fourth man was killed before he even managed to raise his sword arm. The fifth fell before he could even turn his head. What had begun as a struggle of an attack on a single man on the edge of the wall had now be a wave of ughter. Beam moved like the seismic waves of an earthquake as it ran up the side of the building, his sword danced in a sea of blood, ridding the wall of its strength.


    N''s bow was no longer hardly needed. It was only really that first arrow that the boy had wanted. The second was a gift. And now he''d built up such a tide, the enemy had no hope of reversing it. Experience tales at m v|l e''-NovelBin


    Greeves saw it too now, just what the eagle-eyed girl had spotted midcharge. That opportunity. That sh of brilliance. That spark of overwhelming heat, capable of turning the whole world into fodder that burned only for his sake. Greeves grinned. A heat overtook his body ¨C a heat of tion.


    This was what he had stepped onto the field for. This is what he had dared to believe in. As cynical as Greeves was, his belief in his intuition bordered on superstition. He followed wherever it pointed, like a dog followed its nose.


    Where one man saw a steaming pile of manure, Greeves paused, and sighted gold. Once he''d caught the scent of a good investment, like the hound that he was, he wouldn''t let it go, not until he''d reaped all the rewards he could from it.


    "CHAAAAAAAAARGE!" He roared, a battle fury taking over him, a noise from a different life, where the sword might have offered him more opportunities than the pen.


    The vigers echoed his shout. They''d seen the wave of destruction that ran up the side of the Yarmdon wall, and they were emboldened by it.


    The men at the front picked up their pace and lowered their shoulders. Finally, the wall felt breachable. It had lost that stone-like quality it had had before, and they were less hesitant to put their full might into defeating it, especially with that attacking from the left to help them.


    Beam killed another two men. He kicked thest body deeper into the wall, onto the sides of the Yarmdon that were still struggling to hold their shields strong and high.

 Chapter 306: The Strings of Fate - Part 5

    And then the first wave of vigers hit. Axes and kitchen knives. Different sorts to what the Yarmdon used. These were tools for farming ¨C the Yarmdon axes were made for war. But within an instant, those innocent farming tools were rendered the same. There was a sudden rush of blood, as the weapons found flesh, and they cast their innocence aside.


    Energy had filled their bodies, in the same way it had with Greeves. That rush of exhration and adrenaline, enough to cancel out even the fear. And then their shoulders hit the wooden wall constructed by giants¡­ And it crumbled, as though made of dust.


    There was no greater feeling than that for men of a viger''s background. To have the strong fall so easily to your hand. For there to be no resistance where they had expected a mountain of it. As soon as the wall shattered in front of them, they were hit by a wave of euphoria, a true battle aura, as they were tricked into thinking that they were far stronger than they were.


    And, in truth, because of the trick, indeed they were. They fought with the vigour and valour of trained soldiers, and the recklessness of the Yarmdon. Their arms did not hesitate. Their des went to work immediately. Discover more content at m,v l''e-NovelBin


    The Yarmdon had been stunned by the force of a two hundred and fifty man charge ¨C of which they felt the entirety, as their shield wall failed to reduce any of its momentum. They made for easy pickings now, even for men far weaker.


    One more felt a pitchfork driven into his gut. He looked down to see a man half his size wielding in it. He grunted, as blood came pouring from his mouth, and his thick hand found the shaft.


    "Weak¡­" He grumbled, as he tried to pull the pitchfork out. Even with one hand, he easily overpowered the viger. But where there was one viger, there were many. A woman came streaming to help the man, as the first flicker of doubt passed through his eyes. Her knife burrowed its way into the man''s chest. He grunted again, but did not shift.


    "So weak¡­" He said, reaching for the woman with his thick palm.


    Two more men came streaming after them. One wielded his axe, and he chopped at the Yarmdon''s leg just as he would lumber. Finally, the man buckled, and fell t on his back. The other finished him off with a strike of his own, putting his hammer to good use, he shattered the man''s skull with it.


    In a stream of bloodshed, the vigers erased that small party of Yarmdon stragglers from the battlefield. The force of their charge had just been enough. Everything had just been enough.


    Had they slowed any earlier, or had theycked even the slightest portion more of strength, then the Yarmdon''s resistance might have been able to find a foothold, enough to mount a retaliation, and even out the number of casualties.


    As it was now, only a handful of vigers died in that first charge, and nearly forty Yarmdony dead because of it. Their battle cries rang out into the air, as they finished off the rest of the Yarmdon, and they felt fresh blood blotch their skin.


    The feeling of that first victory could not have been sweeter. They''d charged into battle half-expecting not to be able to y a single man. That was why they''d given up hope in the first ce ¨C they''d thought they stood absolutely no chance. And here they were, as if Gods, having ttened their foe ¨C or at least a portion of them ¨C with such horrifying ease that it startled them.


    Their eyes grew crazed from the bloodlust. It was a wild feeling to the new. To walk that tightrope between life and death, to be stood on the same rope with another man, and to emerge victorious in singlebat. It was a feeling of glory that went right down to their animal roots. The feeling of the victor, of the strong. A feeling that approached that of immortality.


    Greeves himself had been thoroughly blooded on that first charge. The man was cunning. He went where the risk was lowest, and the opportunity was highest. A group of vigers surrounded a Yarmdon, after the shield wall had copsed. Greeves came up upon the man''s back, and slid his sword straight through the back of the man''s ribs and into his heart.


    He''d stepped away immediately after that. He''d seen just how quickly the giants could retaliate, and just how sturdy they were, no matter the wound that was inflicted.


    The man tried to turn upon him, but his legs got tangled up beneath him. Even as hardy as the Yarmdon were, they couldn''tst long after having their heart pierced.


    Greeves took that knowledge seriously. He darted about the battlefield, ying a handful of foes with that same tactic. He''d approach from their blind spot, and pierce the enemy through the heart. As cowardly as any warrior might call his tactic, Greeves demonstrated the value of a cunning man with it. For every Yarmdon that resisted, they''d needed five men to ovee it.


    That, or one cunning man, bold enough to get behind them, and pierce them from their blind spot.


    Weaker ¨C and less fit ¨C even than the average viger, Greeves was able to quickly find his ce on the battlefield.


    N''s bow was considerably morepassionate than Greeves'' sword. She kept a keen eye out, as the vigers fought, and then she sent an arrow speeding off wherever anyone was in immediate danger. Her arrows always hit home, every single time, and the enemy could hardly even twitch after theynded, for she aimed each one through the eye.


    With a few slight corrections like that, the vigers were rendered into a weapon that was closer to a shard of ss ¨C sharp and deadly, yet fragile. Even as Jok watched his men be ovee in such a manner, he felt nothing. No immediate dread, no fear. If there was one thing that unnerved him¡­ It would be that boy.

 Chapter 307: The Strings of Fate - Part 6

    As the others fought, he''d battled as well. The moment the vigers hit their charge, and he felt the wall crumble in their favour, he''d turned on his foot and pressed through the sea of corpses that he''d left. He caught those men that pursued him from behind off guard.


    His timing was so perfect, that he hardly needed to put any force into his de to behead the leading man ¨C the Yarmdon''s own momentum had seen to that.


    And so the viger''s first charge and their first blooding was rendered unsullied. They did not have to deal with the threat of an enemy from the side, for Beam was already dealing with them.


    Their battle ended before his did. As their cries died down, and thest Yarmdon was killed, their attention turned towards the noise of battle that came from their side. Discover exclusive content at m,v l''-NovelBin


    They watched, dumbstruck, as a bloodied phantom dismantled a group of fifteen men. Half the Yarmdon''s size, it was like a goblin had descended onto the field. His movements were ruthlessly efficient, yet still animalistic. His shoulders hunched, and more than once did he fall onto all fours to dodge and attack, and then slice open the calve muscles of his enemy.


    One by one, they fell.


    Worse than that ¨C they broke.


    When Beam got to the fifth man, after killing ten already, and with an army of blood-crazed vigers staring at his back, the Yarmdon man caught sight of his eyes. A wave of fear passed through him, and slowed the axe that he''d been sending down.


    Before Beam had even begun to retaliate, the man took his first step back, a fearful step. The other four men behind him did the same. They stepped back away from the stakes in the ground that marked the outskirts of the fort, and instead ran back into the sea of mes, where Gorm''s men were still wreaking havoc.


    To see them break, it was a more powerful thing than seeing them die. To crush their will like that ¨C to crush the will of any Yarmdon man, so that he would rather retreat than do battle. It was a monstrous thing.


    Jok tutted as he saw them turn to run away.


    He looked upon the men that he had gathered behind him. A hundred and fifty. Gorm''s men that had been busy attacking the walls had heeded his call, and returned to him. There seemed to be an understanding that had passed over the battlefield ¨C that Jok would take care of strategy.


    Gorm was still busy anyway, as they saw. He was enjoying picking apart that stern-faced Yarmdonmander, or at least he had been. The sounds of the fight had grown awfully quiet.


    The giant Gorm would have no interest in the likes of vigers, regardless. He''d sooner watch than take part, at least until something caught his interest. Gorm was after the mighty, after all. If a worthy foe did not present itself, then he was merely stealing away glory from his underlings.


    His open palm when it came to leading was what made his men such a force to be reckoned with. He left them to their own devices, once victory was assured, and though he had never said as much, it was clear that he was manoeuvring himself such that his troops got as much battle experience as possible.


    Battle experience that they gleaned without his leadership ¨C he would merely watch from a distance, as he pursued his own things, ensuring that the men did not dishonour themselves.


    When it came to dishonour, it was as though he had a nose for it.


    There was a mighty bellow that resounded across the field.


    "COWARDS!" Gorm roared. It was impossible to tell how the giant had seen his men fleeing, despite the mes that stood in his way, and the duel that he was in the midst of with Lombard.


    Suddenly, he appeared, as though the mes were the medium that manifested him. His axe shed. He could have killed those cowardly men without them ever having sensed his approach ¨C but he made sure that they saw him. He made sure that thest thing that was engraved on their souls was the towering figure of Gorm, the anger on his face, and the axe that came their way.


    Their heads went flying, along with the rest of their torsos.


    Gorm made eye-contact with Beam, as he stood a distance away. Beam could hardly make out the man''s figure. He still had not recovered his breath. He''d been locked in relentlessbat for nearly half an hour.


    "He''s dangerous, Jok. Can you deal with him?" Gorm asked. His voice was level. There was none of his usual barbaric excitement, where he would shout every word. Instead, these were the cold calcting eyes of amander, more simr to a strategist than the picture Gorm painted of himself, as a manic glory-hunting warrior.


    "I CAN!" Jok had to shout back, for his words to reach Gorm. He didn''t have that resounding booming voice that Gorm had, where his voice could reach anywhere, with hardly an effort.


    "Then deal with it," Gorm said. "And be stronger."


    With those words, he walked back into the mes, leaving the battlefield to just the two of them. It was obvious to Jok what Gorm meant.


    ''Kursak''s dead. Use the opportunity to be strong enough for the two of you.''


    In that, Jok saw another implicit meaning. He''s seen the seriousness on Gorm''s face as well. The giant must have begun to sense the same thing that Jok had, that foreboding nature of the future toe. That darkness that was weighing down on them, threatening to crush them.


    Despite all that, he''d stuck to the usual strategy of forcing responsibility onto his subordinates, to force them into growing stronger. He''d done that despite the situation that they were in. That could only mean¡­


    Jok felt his skin tingle. "Crushing this boy¡­ He thinks it will be enough to get me my Third Blessing."

 Chapter 308: The Strings of Fate - Part 7

    He''d been building up glory for a while, even more than Kursak. Jok had expected a breakthrough a year ago, for the amount of glory that he''d built up. He''d measured his victories against the other warriors of the Third Blessing, and the achievements that they''d wracked up, and he''d thought that he far exceeded them.


    But often, it was one great victory that was needed to shatter the Boundary, and propel one forward. Gorm had a better sense for it than most. If he supposed that Jok could break through to his Third Blessing off this, then it was all but certain.


    "Finally¡­" Jok murmured, clenching his fist. At eighteen, to get the Second Blessing was already the feat of a genius, and they praised him as such, all those people back home. But for Jok, that achievement hade far too easily. He knew he could go further, he desired it more than anything. If¡­ at that same age of eighteen, he passed through and got his Third Blessing, then what would people say?


    He shuddered to think. His future would be all but set.


    "So this is my destiny¡­ To think, in a vige in the middle of nowhere, I''d find a little monster like you," he said, his eyes fixed on the boy. "Then so be it. I will crush you. Your strength will be my strength."


    He would make his way towards his Third Blessing, and he would do it with as few losses of life as possible. With him on his Third Blessing, and Gorm so developed on his Fourth, there was no enemy that could stand in their way. No future premonition of darkness that could result in tragedy for them.


    "Brother Kursak, I will honour you with this," he said, as he gave onest nce at the troops in front of him, and prepared his mind for battle.


    A hundred and fifty men under hismand, the enemy had around two hundred and fifty. But those numbers meant nothing to Jok. They meant nothing to any military man. Even from the way those vigers were organized after their charge, it spoke to theirck of training, theirck of discipline.


    They were clustered together in sporadic groups, as they moved amongst the bodies of the dead, unsure and intoxicated,pletely different people to what they had been moments before. They''d tasted power ¨C the power that came with taking the lives of the strong. But they had yet to integrate it. It controlled them. It made them stronger, but also weaker.


    They would fall to him with ease, Jok was sure. It was only that boy. To crush him¡­ To make use of the opportunity fully, and to ensure his Third Blessing¡­ He''d have to take his head himself. But Jok was no fool. He could sense the uncanny strength the boy had. He knew he couldn''t best him in a duel.


    He needed his men to give him the advantage, and he needed to find what that little monster''s breaking point was.


    "Front row, forward," Jok gave the order. Fifty men began to march, all of them armed with bows. They were the men that Jok had kept with him, even as he sent his others to attack. They had their quivers ready, full of arrows on their back. He could feel it already, the fragility of those vigers. A single arrow volley, and their small victory would be shattered.


    Beam noted those soldiers marching across the field. They weren''t in lockstep like the Stormfront soldiers would have been, but they were no less intimidating. Theirs was a fighting style that emphasised a warrior''s individuality, and it bespoke of their personal strength.


    Discover stories at m,v l''-NovelBin


    As his breath returned, and he was finally allowed a chance to rest his battered body, his vision began to clear somewhat, and the semnces of thought began to form.


    "Beam!" He heard a shout. N ran up to him, with Greeves hot on her heels, red-faced and panting. Loriel came streaming after them too. She''d cut the length off her purple dress, so that it only came up to her knees. Her clothes and her dagger were soaked with blood.


    It took him a moment to process all their faces, and properly recognize them.


    "You lot¡­" He said, his voice hoarse and raspy. Now that he spoke, he realized just how dry his mouth was.


    Greeves tossed him a canteen of water from within his coat. "Drink. You look like shit. And we''re in shit. They''re all nning to pick us off with those bows of theirs, aye? What are ya meant to do when the enemy does that?


    Surely the army has taught you some tricks?"


    Beam grabbed the bottle and drank eagerly. It took him a few moments to process Greeves'' words. As he heard them, he looked around for Tolsey. "¡­Looks like Tolsey didn''t make it," he said atst.


    A raised eyebrow met his words. "That blonde noble with the beard? Can''t say I''ve seen him. Nor do I want to see him. I can tell by looking at ya that you''re exhaustedd, but this is it. This is all of us.


    Two hundred and fifty vigers, and you. That''s all there is. If you can''t get us out of this, no one can."


    "At least give him a few moments to recover," Loriel protested. "Look at the state of him."


    "We don''t have a few moments," Greeves cut her off mercilessly. "Another minute, at most, and they''re going to fill us full of arrows. I ain''t no soldier, or warrior, but I can tell you confidently that standing out on the open field under a hail of arrows? That marks us dead."


    Beam was no leader. He didn''t understand the expectancy with which the three of them looked at him. The vigers had begun looking their way too. Their battle lust was beginning to fade, and they saw the merciless approach of the Yarmdon troops. More than they had just killed, and each of them was ready to deliver death from a distance.

 Chapter 309: The Strings of Fate - Part 8

    "Even if you don''t know what to do, just guess, damn it. We''re not just going to stand here, are we, and take all the arrows that they have to offer us?" Greeves pressed.


    "We''ll retreat for now then," Beam said half-heartedly. His mind still didn''t want to function. And even as it did, he had no experiencemanding so many men to draw from. Especially not against an enemy of the Yarmdon ilk.


    Greeves seized on that eagerly. Despite seeming to realize that Beam had no idea what he was doing, Greeves eagerly echoed his words.


    "FORM UP! RETREAT FOR NOW!" He shouted. "SAVE YOUR STRENGTH UNTIL WE GET INTO RANGE!"


    His shouts came with the strength of a proper sergeant. His own men listened to him first ¨C they''d survived that first charge with ease. There were eager smiles on their faces, as once again they praised themselves for trusting in Greeves'' judgement ¨C if it was a battle that the merchant himself was willing to fight in, then that could only be because they had significant odds of victory.


    Like a cup with a hole in, the vigers slowly began to fall back together. Their movements were once again ented by fear, as they showed their back to the enemy, and felt that familiar prey circuit kick up, reminding them that they were weak.


    Such was the danger in giving the retreat order to undisciplined men. It gged their morale. They knew nothing about strategic retreats, and any retreat at all, by their mind, could only be because they were at a disadvantage. Too many retreats of that sort, and they''d be in no condition to fight again. Experience tales at m v|l e''-NovelBin


    Jok watched as the vigers began their retreat. They headed closer to the vige, towards the tail end of the fort. He could see no advantage in that position ¨C no advantage that was greater than the one they already had, just standing upon open ground.


    He shrugged his shoulders, and gave the order for his own men to press slowly forward, keeping them pinned down with the threat of arrow fire.


    Then he moved the rest of his infantry forward with them, to keep them safe and in range, should anything happen. Not that he expected it would. From what he''d seen, it was an order given in haste. He hadn''t even seen the boy give themand. He had his doubts that he was even amander at all, for he had not led a single man in the entirety of their battling.


    Beam moved with the rest of the vigers after giving the call to retreat. Without even turning around, he could already hear the Yarmdon following them at a slow march, relentlessly pinning them into ce. If they went any further up ahead, then they''d be in amongst the houses.


    It was along such a line of thought, that Beam hit his first pocket of inspiration. He was no leader, and indeed, he wasn''t feeling that the gloves of a leader fit him at all. His mind was barely conscious. It was taking all his effort just to move his body. He saw things, and then it would take him several seconds before he could process what those things were.


    But seeing those houses, that kicked into gear an instinct that had been ticking over since the battle had begun. A sense for the things around him. A sense that made use of everything that it could. From falling bodies to spraying blood ¨C and now the walls of houses.


    Greeves, N and Loriel nked him as they jogged. He voiced his ns to them.


    "We fight them amongst the houses, make their bows useless," Beam said in a raspy voice.


    N found herself smiling in relief. "That sounds like a good idea to me."


    Greeves grinned as well, whilst Loriel watched on with a satisfied smile. "Aye, d to see you''re waking up a bit."


    "Continue on to the vige!" Greeves shouted to the rest of the vigers, as they streamed their way across the snowy ins, stomping down that long grass, in their muddy boots and clothing.


    There were a few heads that turned at that, violently, as though to protest the decision. Unconsciously, everyone in the vige had thought the same thing ¨C protect the houses. It didn''t make sense to lead the fighting towards them, where they might be burned and damaged as a result of the fighting.


    But as soon as they went to protest the decision, they realized that that very thought was illogical. Though they''d tried to defend their property, and though they''d known what an inconvenience it would be if what they had was broken, it was still far easier to rece than a lost life, aplete and utter ughter.


    They turned to question the decision, but no words of questioning came out. Instead, their eyes settled on the boy, whom they presumed had given the order. He''d said no word to them yet. He wasn''t leading them like they expected a leader to. He was more enigmatic now than he was in normal vige life ¨C covered from head to toe in blood.


    Not only that, they''d finally seen up close just how he fought. They''d been too intoxicated with their own victories to truly take it in, but they''d still seen it nheless, and they''d felt it, the raw power of which he was capable.


    A handful of the shrewder types had even deduced that he was why the Yarmdon wall had crumbled so easily. They''d taken note of his attack that hade from the side, and the momentum he''d lent them in doing so.


    They looked, they questioned, but for now, they obeyed. They ran on until their feet passed the first of the houses. The houses were denser towards the centre of the vige. Just the few houses on the outskirts wouldn''t have enough cover for them all.


    Jok watched, and he felt his eyebrow twitch.


    "Shit," he cursed. identally, merely on instinct, Beam had yed the best move he could.


    In different circumstances, it wouldn''t have been as effective. At the start of the battle, had the soldiers merely lined the streets like Beam intended to, then Gorm and his men would have merely burned the houses down.

 Chapter 310: The Strings of Fate - Part 9

    Of course, just burning the houses wouldn''t be much good. It would merely create a bit of chaos on the battlefield ¨C the houses weren''t so tightly packed that they''d form a wall to trap the inhabitants in.


    It would have merely turned their battle into a long one, a battle of endurance. The Yarmdon would have been forced to tackle the soldiers in much the same way as they had been forced to tackle the fort ¨C up close and personal. The only difference would have been in the efficacy of their arrows.


    It was a trade-off, there. Arrow cover, versus more effective utilisation of the infantry, with the help of the fort''s stakes and trenches. With the Stormfront soldiers in question, trained in groupbat as they were, and proficient with the lengthy spear, it was obvious that the fort would be more effective.


    But for the vigers? That wasn''t the case. Especially now that the fort had been breached. They couldn''t hold a line like the Stormfront soldiers could. Nor would they have easily been able to recapture a fort that was already filled with mes.


    Fighting in the vige put the Yarmdon infantry in their natural habitat, where they fought best, as disorganized skirmishers that prioritised individual might over group tactics. But now, in these circumstances, it also saved the vigers from outright and immediate death, by giving them the same advantage of chaotic battle, and freeing them from the worry of arrow fire. Continue your journey on m|v-l''e -NovelBin


    If Jok had more time, he could have tackled it more easily, over the course of several days, he''d have raided them sporadically, and burned their houses down, until he''d ground them to dustpletely. Unlike the fort, the vige was not a location that could be defended long-term.


    For ast stand, a short-term stand-off, it functioned annoyingly well, though. Jok was in a rush, as was Gorm now. They couldn''t afford to merely wait back from a distance, and expose the weakness in the enemy''s positioning, by picking them off bit by bit.


    They were forced to make the irritating choice of following, to do battle on the enemy''s terms.


    Jok didn''t give any further orders. He allowed his troops to continue marching forwards, towards the edge of the vige, where they promptly paused to await further instruction.


    The vigers were hidden from sight now. There was torchlight closer to the centre of the vige. No doubt they''d all hidden themselves sporadically amongst the rows of houses, hiding behind walls for surprise attacks.


    It was a troubling ce to battle for a man that wanted to conserve as many men as possible. A ce rife with far too many potential tactics. Again, Jok found himself tutting in annoyance.


    "But there is nought to be done about it, I suppose¡­" he said atst. "In the end, this is still advantageous ground for any Yarmdon. Had theirmander decided to do this from the start, I would haveughed in delight¡­ but¡­"


    But with that boy in the picture, any further elements of unpredictability became sparks that Jok did not want to have to deal with. The boy should have been dead an hour ago, yet something kept him moving, and now, by that boy''smand, he''d turned those two hundred and fifty vigers into something that approached a true problem.


    Before, the vigers had been mere pebbles. Annoying, capable of damage, but not capable of victory. Now, they were closer to a sizable rock. It was obvious to Jok that he had to y this carefully, should he want to keep his men.


    "But how carefully to y it¡­" He considered. His heart thumped against his ribcage in response, reminding him of the approaching danger. Not carefully enough that they were stabbed in the back by that unknown danger before they could even deal with this one, it seemed.


    He gave the order for those bowmen to requip their melee weaponry. And then he bled his group back together, merging them into one section of a hundred and fifty hard and eager men.


    There was one road that led into the vige from the east ¨C but that was not the only route a man could take. There were sizable gaps between the houses. He could just as easily march his men through there. There was enough room for five or even ten men, depending on how tightly he wanted to squeeze them.


    It was those gaps in the houses that would be of benefit to the defending party. They had the chance to get themselves into position for surprise attacks, long before the enemy came. Even a single weed-armed viger couldnd a fatal attack on one of his men like that.


    As Jok carefully considered the tactical implications of the nearby buildings, and plotted his course of action, the vigers themselves sprinted further into the vige, disorganized, unmotivated, and unsure.


    They soon ended up almost exactly in the same spot that they had started at, with the vige Elder''s house looming off a little ways behind them.


    ''If only there was some way to make use of that Elder''s magecraft¡­'' N thought as she passed it. Beam had mentioned seeing crystals, crystals that he thought might be used for creating the monsters that continually attacked the vige. She wondered if they might create an explosion, or something of the like, if they used them properly.


    But s, such opportunities seemed far from everyone else''s minds. They were anxiously looking around, for ces to hide, ces to attack from. Even as their eyes darted to the buildings, it seemed to N that it wasn''t a hiding ce that they were looking for ¨C they were looking for a leader.


    She nced at Beam. He was as quiet as he had been since the battle. He''d gone deep within himself, she could see, merely to survive. He''d led them there, but now what?


    She wasn''t the only one asking such questions. Greeves was casting nces towards the boy as well, expecting more from him than a middle-aged man reasonably should have. But the boy had continually produced miracles, again and again, he''d managed to do it.


    Because of that boy''s presence, those vigers had been able to storm onto the battlefield, and kill forty or fifty men without hardly a single one of them dying in the process. That there was a miracle. A miracle that should not have been afforded to a thrown-together rabble that feared whether they''d be able to kill a single man.

 Chapter 311: The Strings of Fate - Part 10

    They''d tasted something that neared victory, and then they''d been forced to retreat again. Every man instinctively hated taking steps back. It was deeply rooted in their hearts.


    It was hard to see their fighting as a victory when they ended up in the exact same spot that they had been in before, even after all the emotion that they''d summoned up, all that battle spirit ¨C they were still here, back within the walls of their vige, as the enemy marched closer.


    "They''re probably going to torture us now," one man said. N recognized him. He was a shepherd, and tended the southern fields with his sheep in the summer. A nervous and small man, always fearing wolves, and goblins. N noticed that his hands were stained with blood, just like the rest of them.


    After the tion of their first kills, the high was quickly wearing off, as they began to regret what they''d done. Many of them had not expected themselves to be capable of such violence. They''d never been put in positions where they''d had to fight for their lives before.


    There was a coughing sound, as a man put a hand to his throat, and gagged, before vomiting the contents of hisst meal all over the snow-covered grass.


    Strangely ¨C or at least to N ¨C the women in their party seemed the most unchanged. Nearly all of them had blood on their hands, but it didn''t seem to bother them so much. They almost seemedfortable with what they''d done.


    As she noticed the women amongst their group, N also began to look for the women that they''d left behind. They''d been waiting for them in the same spot that they had left them. Some had sheepishly gone back to their houses, anxious for something to do, but now they began to crawl back out of the woodwork. The women, and the elderly that had chosen not to partake in battle.


    "Do you have news?" An old woman asked. She was the old woman that ran the bakery. She looked to Beam as she spoke, but it was as though Beam didn''t hear her. His eyes were half-closed as he stood there. N worried that he might be asleep.


    "A solid first victory, thanks to the boy," Greeves said firmly, putting more force into his words, emphasising their sess, tobat the gloomy atmosphere that had settled. "We slew fifty men ¨C didn''t lose any more than a handful ourselves. I''d say that was a solid start."


    "That''s right," Loriel added, her voice calm and level. "And now a hundred and fifty of the enemy approach. We n to make use of the streets to deal with them."


    There were shocked murmurs from amongst the people who had chosen not to fight when they heard that.


    "You brought them¡­ here?" One woman asked, aghast. She was an acutely feminine woman. As soon as violence had been mentioned earlier, she''d begun shaking her head maniacally, as though to block the very thoughts out. With that weakness ¨C or so N saw it ¨C in her, she had chosen not to participate in battle. "You mean to kill us all?"


    Her voice was soft, but the tone was shocked and usatory. She directed the words of resentment towards Beam. She seemed to instinctively know who had given the order for them to retreat back into the vige, they all did. In the same way that a foreign wolf knew who led an enemy''s pack. It was in the way the others positioned themselves, and how they stole nces at him.


    It was as though he was the sun, and they were thes ¨C everything was rtive to him.


    "Watch your tongue, you dolt," Greeves hissed. "Did you think they were going to let you all live if we failed, did you? Or would you rather we''d sat under arrow fire, with no chance to respond?"


    The woman turned her head away daintily. It was as though she was in her own world. She put her head in her hands, and began to weep dramatically.


    A few of the old people shared her sentiments.


    "I wish you''d have let us die in peace," one old man said.


    "Piss off then," Greeves said harshly, pointing his thumb towards the Yarmdon. "They''re that way. Go and make your peace with your Gods, and piss off."


    The old man made a distasteful sound, and turned his head pompously away from the merchant.


    "Is there anyone else looking for death?" Greeves asked loudly. "The enemy is that way. If not, shut your whore mouths. As far as I''m concerned, those of you that didn''t fight are less than people to me now ¨C you have no purpose. Those without purpose can rot."


    Loriel put a hand on his arm. Somewhere along the line, Greeves'' attempt to rile them up had transformed into him spitting his real thoughts with venom. He tutted as he realized that, and went quiet.


    "What do we do then?" Arger man spoke up, blood covered. One nce at him, and you could tell that he had been in the thick of the fighting. "Can we catch them off guard like that again..? Do we charge them from the side?"


    From the speed with which he spoke, it was clear that the adrenaline was still pounding through his, fraying his nerves. He gripped a woodcutting hatchet tight in his hand, as his eyes were widened and red.


    "Hoh, there''s a man that actually wants to fight, and wants to live," Greeves said, his tone mocking to scorn the rest. He afforded the man the most respect that he was capable of delivering. "Since you speak of victory, I''ll call you arade. The n is we use these streets to our advantage, and we overturn their superiorbat skill with the element of surprise."


    He''d looked to Beam once more as he spoke, to see whether the boy was ready to join in yet, but Beam''s eyes had hardly budged. He continued to stare at the floor, his breathing shallow, as his sword dangled from his wrist. Seeing that, Greeves filled in for him, after guessing the boy''s intent behind stationing them in the vige as he had. Stay connected with m-v l|e''-NovelBin

 Chapter 312: The Strings of Fate - Part 11

    "Does he agree with that?" The man said. Like the rest of them, he wondered why Beam had yet to speak.


    At Greeves'' nudging, Beam finally looked upwards. He locked eyes with the man that was talking to him. The man felt himself shiver. It was as though suddenly there were eyes looking at him out of the darkness. They were terrifying eyes,plicated.


    Beam took a deep breath, willing some oxygen to his brain. As he''d stood and waited, he slowly felt his body recovering. It was both a good and bad thing. Beam had been fighting for days on end as a result of the monster attacks. He''d managed to keep up that pace with consistent rest and sleep, and he figured he could have gone on for far longer.


    But a whole day of activity as he had been subjected to, with the same shift fending off monsters ¨C Half-Titan''s at that ¨C followed by the unsettling nature of the Elder''s basement, straight into an exhaustive battle not unlike the one that he''d fought with the Hobgoblin¡­ He felt like he''d lived several lifetimes in just a single day. Continue your adventure with m|v-l''e -NovelBin


    He''d grown, he felt that. His body and his mind were desperately doing what every body and mind did when they were overwhelmed with new experience and information ¨C they were desperately trying to integrate it, and find some semnce of order amongst it all, some umbre of reasoning that they could call the ''known.''


    Beam''s body and mind were still struggling to catch up. From the stresses of earlier that day, with deaths that should have been avoided¡­ and now what seemed to follow was the deaths of everyone. Tolsey had gone missing, he hadn''t heard from Lombard, he hadn''t seen Judas¡­ Everyone had disappeared. And then the number of soldiers that had died ¨C many of whom he knew¡­ It was impossible to process.


    It felt like a weight. He couldn''t decide how he felt about it yet. He''d reached some form of answer as he battled ¨C the struggle had forged his mental state into something harder, and he''d recalled that which he was. He was never a hero, he was never a being of greatness. It was always loss that met his efforts, yet he struggled anyway.


    Conscious thought began to return, and that was what he thought of, as his muscles ached. Violent thoughts assailed him. ''What of Tolsey?'' ''Judas trusted you to have his back, didn''t he?''


    He brushed them aside for now. He felt the wounds begin to gather in his heart, and he epted it. Whenever there was pain, Beam had learned that he was in the right ce. He was right where he should be.


    And now there were usatory eyes cast upon him. Not many, but enough. Earlier in the day, that might have dug more deeply than it did now. Now, he was able to meet them with a straight face. He didn''t like it, the feeling was ufortable, but he remembered that he was used to being ufortable. He was used to feeling like an outcast.


    Competence had never been his calling card, he''d never been lucky enough to teach it, no matter how much he tried.


    With that, mistakes were inevitable. With mistakes being inevitable, he could ept them. Even the lives of two hundred and fifty people, if they were cing themselves in his hands, trusting him, then he would ept them.


    Not because he believed himself to be a good leader, but because he could see that they had no other choice. Greeves had guided them, N had guided them, Loriel had guided them. All of them were pointing their fingers his way. These pirs ofpetence in their own right, each of them pointed to something greater.


    It was impossible for him to unravel what they meant. Even more impossible to do it right in that moment, when his mind was overloaded, when it couldn''t figure out just who they were anymore, so he didn''t bother, he didn''t think too deeply, he couldn''t afford to. Instead, he allowed the mindset of the warrior to wash over him, the mindset of the struggler.


    The same thing that had kept him alive on the field of battle.


    "We fight," he said simply. They weren''t inspiring words, but they were the words that were running through his mind. His logical mind had died, he couldn''t take the reins of a leader properly, so he took it in his own way.


    He merely voiced his own intentions aloud, how he would fight this battle if it was merely him ¨C and if the others wished to follow, then that was on them, he decided.


    ''Half-arsed'', Ingolsol taunted. Beam knew it was Ingolsol by now. With the sounds of battle gone from his ears, that voice came again and again. Without someone needing to exin it, he knew that there was something peculiar about that night that made it possible for Ingolsol to reach him so easily. For that voice to be heard, when usually there was just a feeling.


    Whether it was the despair that hung in the air, or the weighty evil that eclipsed all of it, it was hard to tell, but Ingolsol could be heard, and he spoke freely. Sharp, short sentences, more tongueshings than anything else. It seized upon Beam''s own doubts, and magnified them.


    ''Don''t speak ¨C you''ll kill them,'' it said. ''They''re going to die. Die, die die.''


    It took the knot of anxiety he usually found in his stomach, and it twisted it until the pain made him want to scream.


    And still, Beam was able to remainfortable, despite that internal civil war, despite the aching might of his body, despite the overwhelming responsibility that saddled him, the impossible odds that he had ovee. The state of mind that he had trained for years supported him when moreplicated things could not. Beam resolved to struggle.


    "They''re going to burn the houses," he noted. "Could attack through the windows¡­ But would need to be cautious."

 Chapter 313: The Strings of Fate - Part 12

    His words came out truly like his own thoughts, for that''s what they were. His mind reorganized itself, after it had resolved to struggle. It repositioned its priorities, and used what systems it could, so that it would be able to deal with the weight of what was asked of it.


    Just like when lifting a heavy stone, the body immediately biased the strongest, most easily essible muscles, so too did Beam''s mind, once itmitted itself to solving its problem.


    His mind made it so there was practically no one there. It returned to the state it had been just a few minutes prior, that state of battlefield flow, when there was meaning in all things, when everything had the potential to be the next spark that would invite the ze of victory.


    Beam thought for a moment. "He''s going to stick to the roads¡­" He guessed. "They''re stronger one on one. They''re going to want to eliminate the element of surprise. They want to see us all in one ce, so they can easily deal with us."


    He found himself looking around as he spoke, at the Elder''s house, at the houses beyond it, and the houses that bordered the main road east.


    Greeves felt like he''d won a magicmp. Slowly, but surely, he could feel something happening. The cogs were turning. He was in the presence of genius, or what would be genius. More than just a sword, the boy seemed to possess an instinct for something else. His heart pounded as he listened.


    "Get rid of the torches," Beam decided. Explore new worlds at m,v l''-NovelBin


    There were torches that lined the road into the vige, and torches outside the front of many different houses. They were disorganized, and personal, with each of them belonging to different vigers, who had decided that they needed to have a light source at those particr points in the evening, but together they formed awork of light that served to light the whole vige.


    "What of the torches on the road in?" N asked. She assumed that he wanted to prevent the Yarmdon from easily being able to light fires, and indeed, that was part of his reasoning. The Yarmdon had cast their torches aside as soon as the fighting began ¨C they had no need of them, after all, with the enemy fort being so well-lit.


    Even a handful of them still carried torches now, it didn''t make sense to make things easy for them. Beyond that, though, Beam felt an instinct kicking in, as his own heart beat in excitement. Amidst what should have been unimaginable suffering, weighing him down so deeply that he drowned, there still came that thrill.


    He''d hit upon a sense for how this battlefield was likely to y out. He felt a ringing in his heart that came with truth, that rang out whenever one came to a conclusion that was satisfactory, that was exciting, that was full of potential. It was the potential that Beam sensed, that got his heart beating so quickly.


    "Well damn it then, get these torches out!" Greeves roared. His men sprinted into action, grabbing the torch nearest them and plunging it into the wet, cold snow. There was a cough of sparks from each of them, but soon, they went out.


    The man that had been speaking to Beam earlier looked around at them, unsure whether he should be joining in and helping. From the start, he''d been put into an awkward position, for he could sense that Beam wasn''t truly speaking to him, but at the same time, the boy''s eyes were locked firmly upon him. He was unsure what to do.


    N felt her question from earlier grow unanswered. Normally, that might have embarrassed a person, but she was watching in fascination as she saw the cogs turning in Beam''s mind. He was hardly there at all. He was already fighting, even as he stood there.


    "The dark will give us the advantage," Beam said, finally, giving voice to another thought that he had. "He wants to get rid of our advantage in surprise¡­ Like goblins¡­ mm. Erratic, unpredictable, weak but¡­"


    An understanding shed over a few faces, as they began to see what he was getting at. The man in front of Beam started to feel his lips widen in a savage grin. His heart was pounding as well. It was that predatory instinct, that was what the boy was getting at. He wanted them to be the tigers in the long grass. He wanted their enemy to feel all the fear that prey felt.


    One by one, those torches began to go out. A sea of darkness was left in their ce. It began in the centre of the vige, and then went outwards, like a strong breeze,ing closer and closer, until even the ones just metres away from the head of Jok''s party went out too.


    It was an unsettling sight. The vigers knew their vige better than the invaders ¨C not that there was much to know. It was the criminals, in truth, that owned it, and scarpered around it like rabbits in their own den, working through their own escape routes.


    They''d been eyeing these houses for years and their inhabitants. Wherever there was gold, these men were sure to sniff it out. And now, given the order to put out the torches, there could have been no better men for the job. They dared to get dangerously close.


    They moved with all the stealth that one would expect from experienced thieves, but they also had the sleight of hand as a pickpocket. Though these torches were right in front of those Yarmdon men, it was a strange thing. They didn''t see the torches get put out ¨C not exactly. Instead, they simply seemed to vanish.


    There was no hand to me the disappearance on, nor could they even hear footsteps. One moment there was light, and the next, there wasn''t.


    They only had a handful of torches to their name now. The men on the frontmost ranks turned to look at each other nervously, their helmets suddenly feeling heavier, and the metal masks suddenly feeling more restrictive.


    They were but a few steps away from entering the vige. They were within touching distance of the first house. Jok had kept them close together, all on that Eastern road, sticking to it, marching more like Stormfront soldiers than Yarmdon men.

 Chapter 314: The Strings of Fate - Part 13

    Now it was an imprable ckness that they faced. They knew something was there, of course. Something¡­ But that something didn''t feel like the vigers. It felt considerably darker than that. It was easy to let the imagination y tricks on them.


    Even their youngmander found himself unnerved. He felt a gnawing in the pit of his stomach. A feeling that he''d felt several times before. The emotion stirred an old memory that he hadn''t thought about in a while. An old Yarmdoning-of-age ritual, that he''d been forced to undergo in his fourteenth year.


    Alone, in the wilderness, with nothing but a weapon of his choosing ¨C for the task, he chose a spear ¨C he had to bring back the pelt of a Grey Bear. Bigger than the brown bears that inhabited the ck Mountains, they were terrifying foes, even for those of Yarmdon descent.


    It was in the moment where he''d finally seeded in tracking down one of those bears that Jok had felt this primal instinct. As he''d gazed into the ckness of the cave, he''d felt that deadly presence. He''d heard the rising and falling of the beast''s chest, he could almost feel the heat of its breath.


    And then he took that emotion, and he gripped his spear tighter, ughtering the bear all the same. Few returned from that test and none ¨C not at that age ¨C came back with the pelt of a Grey Bear. They''d had to settle for weaker animals, cementing their position in society.


    Jok would never have allowed that for himself. From the moment he left the womb, he knew he had been destined for greatness. Now, as the fear came, even greater than what he felt outside of that bear''s cave, once again, he reminded the world of his worth.


    "Burn it," he gave the order with a stern voice, a voice filled with strength. It unfroze the nerves of his men at the front. They held a torch to the low-thatched roof only too dly. It quickly caught fire, as Jok lit up the darkness that Beam had created.


    The whole Yarmdon army had been set on fighting that single order. The slightest of movements, the slightest of changes to the battlefield position, they were all having far more significant effects than Beam was thinking of as he gave the orders.


    Those first few men that he had utilised ¨C by Greeves'' orders ¨C came back to the square after havingpleted their task. Now the whole vige was cloaked in darkness, including the centre.


    The eyes began to adjust, it was their night vision that they went off. They could just barely make out the shapes of each other, and the shapes of the houses around them. But if a man was to crouch, and remain still, it''d be nearly impossible to notice him.


    Beam found himself remaining simrly as still, albeit unintentionally. His thoughts and his speech wereing to him deliriously, as though he was trying to awake from a dream. His body didn''t have the energy to recover in one fell swoop, so it operated in a different mechanism, the minimal mechanism, that was all that it could do.


    Without looking towards it, he could hear the fire crackling off into the distance, two hundred metres out from the vige centre. The first of the houses had been set fire to, and it cast light all around it, light mixed with shadows, but still, light nheless.


    The Yarmdon boots beat against the road, crunching down into the snow. They found themselves unconsciously walking lightly on their feet, as they would when they were tracking prey, but from the weight of the men, and the sheer number of them, that did nothing to mask their approach.


    And they were indeed approaching. The vigers could feel that. Their hearts thudded against their ribcage. Those that hadn''t wanted to fight were rendered no choice. The woman that had spoken up tearfully early to protest against Beam now began to quieten her crying, even as she buried her head deeper into her hands.


    There was something about the darkness that made them all want to move quietly, that made them want to lower their voices. The darkness was vague and it was obscuring, it was the perfect ce for the weak to attack, and it was the perfect ce for the weak to exist.


    It empowered those that were hungrier, and more desperate. Some found themselves moving slightly, to see if the people next to them would notice. They didn''t ¨C how could they? Subtle movements were virtually undetectable. The night vision that their eyes afforded them was a mere haze.


    Such a thing was an emboldening prospect. It was the domain of the criminal. Greeves'' men delighted in it. They feltfortable in it. It afforded them far more opportunities than the light did.


    They held their breaths, not daring to speak. Beam still had yet to give a single other order. There were various ns that they could take. They could have some of the men hide inside of the houses as the Yarmdon approached, and attack them from their positions of stealth.


    Such a thing was being immediately countered by Jok, though, as he burned down every house in his path.


    The darkness was a temporary measure. With every step that they took, the small advantage that the darkness afforded them was being snatched away. But no matter how hard a man looked, they could find no better ways to go about it. There were no other real tactics they could employ.


    Had they had bows, they could have shot arrows. Had they had oil, they could have tossed pots amongst the enemy, and forced them to fight amongst their own mes.


    Along that line of thought, Beam found himself raising his head again. It was never about total victory, not for them. They were the weak. It was merely about evening the ying field enough that miracles could happen.


    In that sense, the mes too were to their benefit. All kinds of chaos were to their benefit. If the vigers had the morale to keep from running, through sheer numbers and through sheer chaos of the environment, they could seize their victory.


    But that seemed unlikely. Beam couldn''t snatch any more ideas from his tired mind. He could only merely acknowledge the situation and give onest order.

 Chapter 315: The Strings of Fate - Part 14

    "Find your spot, find your group, and attack when your heart beats the fastest," Beam said. Onest order, this one finally spoken directly to them. He could do nothing for these people, he realized. There were limits to his abilities. He could feel the extra reach that hispetence gave him, and he could also feel the crushing dismay of all that was outside of his reach.


    His heart was stone as he thought of such things now. He did not curse himself for theck ofpetency as he had in the past. Of course, he desired it ¨C but here in the moment, he could do no more than struggle. In fact, anything more than that, and he would die. He felt that within him. He''d learned that that night.


    To continually seek evolution and progress, just as he had in his battle with the Hobgoblin ¨C it would get him killed.


    His words did not contain a shred of defeatism. They were hardened words. The words that a man spoke to his family as he left for a hard day''s work. It was not a pleasant task, it was not a task that any man would want to carry out, and the conditions were far from favourable, but all they could do was fight anyway.


    Greeves found his breath catching in his throat as he heard what the boy had to say. He was sure there had to be more ¨C some brilliant n, some bit of moment, some spark of genius. Something¡­ He''d felt it in his chest earlier, the boy had led them right up to the gates of it, he''d danced around a brilliant and genius solution¡­ and yet, where was it?


    Did it merely end here, with the dark?


    The solution he gave them was merely ''fight?''


    Fight? Fight how? For what? On your own terms? Where do you want us to fight, boy?


    But Beam had no words for them. He''d already turned away. He was no leader. He didn''t have the training for it. He didn''t have the patience. He didn''t have the ability.


    Not yet. There were two paths he knew now: the path of struggle, and the path of the sword.


    He used these new instincts that the Gods had chosen to bestow on him, that all his training had afforded him, and he took steps towards where he felt he would be most effective. He moved out to meet his enemy.


    N watched his shadow go, as surprised as Greeves. She suddenly felt awfully lonely. A shiver passed up her back. The dark was oppressive and suffocating¡­ But¡­ it was hers. Her eyes lit up. She''d spent many years in the dark, hunting.


    She knew it better than anyone there. She had her own sort of instincts to rely on. Those things that one couldn''t put into words, the knowledge of where the prey was likely to be, and where she was likely to have her best chance at a shot.


    In the dark, everything was possible. "I''m going for the Golden Bull," she said to Greeves before she left.


    "The Golden Bull..?" He had to repeat it again before he understood, but by the time he''d turned to her, she was already gone. "Shit¡­ So that''s it," he muttered, his smile suddenly returning, but not without a sheen of sweat to apany it on his forehead.


    "Alright, listen up, dogs, I''ll exin it for those of you that are hard of understanding," Greeves said. His voice wasn''t as loud as it had been earlier, but with the darkness, it still rang out violently, enough to disturb the ear. "The boy''s n is simple. He''s going for the General''s head.


    Each of you are arrows ¨C with two hundred and fifty of you, in this darkness and this chaos, one of us should be capable of killing the Golden Bull."


    N had sensed it, before even realizing it. The conditions had been set up perfectly for them. Both she and Beam had clocked it, through different instincts. The moment Jok set foot with his warband into the vige, he became a target to be hunted.


    Only Greeves was capable of putting their thoughts and their reasoning together. He had only a merchant''s instincts to go on, after all. If it was not put into words for him, he would not understand those battlefield instincts.


    ''The boy must have sensed it¡­ There''s no strength in unity for these vigers now¡­ Not here, in chaos. Uniting them in a single cause wouldn''t make them stronger, it would just make them easier to deal with.'' Greeves thought to himself, as he attempted to rationalize the boy''s movements.


    "Here''s your road to victory, for those of you hard of understanding: go for the damn head. There''s but a single person in between you and survival ¨C the survival of your family. Their little welp of amander. y him, and the boy will bury the rest," Greeves said.


    "What of that other man, the loud one who was fighting earlier?" An old man asked, his words stabbing at that which Greeves had neglected to consider. For a moment, the merchant fumbled, wondering why he hadn''t considered something so obviously¡­ But then he realized he had.


    At some point, he''d started relying on that same feeling that N and Beam had embraced, though he hardly understood it. He''d felt it in the air, just like when h felt the worth of amodity going up ¨C the battle was here, in this moment. Their entire army was here. There were but a few stragglers left with Gorm. If they won here, they won it all.


    "He''s but a single man. Their army lies here. We take off the head of this snake and the boy will bury the rest. Those of you that have seen it, you understand. Some des swing more sharply than others. All he needs is opportunity.


    You can buy him that," Greeves said.


    Discover more content at m,v l''e-NovelBin


    "But how, damn it? What do you expect us to do? You think we can y this man ourselves? Charging as a group is one thing, but this¡­ This is beyond us," a man muttered. Greeves'' couldn''t see the face in the crowd, but he could already feel his heart giving the man a name.


    ''Coward.'' He tutted. The same word he''d given all beneath him for many long years. To think there woulde a time when he would need to beseech such cowards, when he would need to understand them in such a way that he could make them stronger, rather than crush them.

 Chapter 316: The Strings of Fate - Part 15

    Why did they think the way they did? Why did they not have that same urge to grasp things that he did? Why were they so content to merely roll over and die? Greeves was a merchant, but even without gold, his oue would have been the same. From the second he chose to kill his master, he''d known what he was.


    Fate gave him a weapon, and Greeves plunged it into whatever flesh was avable.


    "Have you never caught a fox before?" Greeves said. "Even those of you that can''t hunt, you''ve surely snagged a rabbit before, haven''t you? Damn, even I have. Thismander is just another rabbit, just another sack of flesh. Get close, and duck to the ground, and drive your de through his back. If you ain''t got that in you, then you ain''t a man."


    Greeves'' underlings licked their lips at that. It was finally their turn to shine. A type of battling that even they could thrive in. "So whatcha sayin boss, is we just gotta hide n'' wait, and take the man out? How much you paying for that?"


    The merchant didn''t hesitate. "50 gold coins. You bring me that man''s head, and it''s all yours."


    The man went quiet. So too did the other criminals. Money spoke, after all. A single gold coin was a handsome amount, an amount that they''d be pleased tomit any crime for. Fifty? Fifty was something else entirely.


    That was a decade''s worth of work, perhaps even more. It was life-changing.


    Every time they murdered and robbed, they were putting their lives on the line. This here was no different. Of course, they''d be doing it under the heat of battle, but they lived their lives in that heat, under the constant threat of being caught. If they could choose their own point of attack, their own way of attack, they couldn''t imagine themselves losing to anyone.


    The same went for the hunters amongst the crowd.


    "Just hunting, then?" A man said. He had a feminine-sounding voice, Greeves thought he could match it to a face. The face of a man that was usually rather cowardly, especially in business. But even he believed that he couldnd a single shot. Being told to do things on their terms, it spoke to the hunters. They were not battlefield fighters, after all, they were long-grass predators.


    "Aye, just hunting," Greeves reassured him. "Hunt him, or flee and die. It''s up to you. But ya can do either on your own terms. The time for group fighting has passed. Skulk in the shadows, and look for the opportunity to attack.


    Even worthless trash can manage that much."


    "I''m going to run¡­" The girl from earlier said. Greeves recognized that pathetic voice. He heard hope in it. He gave a savage grin in the dark.


    "You will go alone then, and you''ll die. It''s several days to the next vige. You definitely ain''t making it that far, are you?" He said.


    It was something they''d all known already. The only way to get to the next vige safely would be to pack enough food and water for the journey, and get there as a group. But none of them were fit enough to make that journey faster than an army of Yarmdon ¨C especially not women and children, those that truly needed to be doing the running in the first ce.


    He couldn''t see any faces amongst the crowd, but he could sense that their mind was made up. That hunter from earlier spoke up.


    "Anyone want to group with me? We''ll have a better chance shooting a well-timed barrage together," he said.


    With that first asking came many more. Just because they weren''t fighting as a single unit didn''t mean that it wasn''t an option to form little groups. Greeves himself had that very same intention. He turned to his band of underlings ¨C or to where he thought they stood ¨C and gave the order.


    "Let''s get going then," he said.


    He had to fight to keep the nervousness out of his voice. In truth, now, he found himself feeling far worse than he had on that initial charge. Back then, he''d relied on the boy to keep him safe from harm, he was sure that if he simply stuck to him, then he''d get through the battle unscathed.


    Now he didn''t know what to rely on. The very premise of their battle attack was individual might, or at least, the might of small groups of individuals. All of those targeting the same target with the same intensity, but with different ns of attack, for they weren''t operating together.


    If it was individual might that they had to rely on, then he trusted his men far more than himself. If they were to really get into the thick of the fighting, then he was quite sure he wouldn''t be putting himself on the front lines.


    He heard groups begin to shuffle outwards after them. He couldn''t see them anymore, but he could guess where they were headed. Some groups kept their backs to the houses as they advanced forth, others left the vige entirely, heading towards the snow-covered long grass, taking the long way around towards their enemy, and all the while, the Yarmdon carefully advanced forth.


    WOOOOOOOOSH!


    Another house went up in me, as Jok''s men set fire to it. He led them from the centre. He''d moved forward once they''d entered the vige, so that half his army was behind him, and half in front, with a good amount on the sides. He was wary of an attack from the rear. With all this darkness, it screamed predatory intent. He was well aware of what he would do in their situation.


    But he had a strategy of his own. Explore stories on m,v l''e-NovelBin


    ''If I make it to the vige centre, I win,'' he told himself. His n was just that. March forth towards the vige centre, burning everything that he came in contact with along the way. He estimated that by the time he''d gotten there, there would be enough light and enough ground covered for him and his men to safely hold on to their victory.


    The Novel will be updated first on this website. Come back and


    continue reading tomorrow, everyone!

 Chapter 317: The Strings of Fate - Part 16

    He had a feeling that the enemy would not be kind enough to let him get there so quickly though. They had their weak to protect, after all. The second Jok destroyed what was important to them ¨C their women, and their children ¨C their reason to fight would die.


    His men shifted ufortably as they advanced forward, their steps slow and deliberate. The darkness was oily. He was sure the light of a fire used to reach further than this ¨C it was as though he had to physically beat back the darkness with each step for each time they advanced forward.


    He heard a man''s stolen chainmail clink as he turned rapidly at his neck to look into the shadows. The twitchiness of his men reminded him of dogs brought for the hunt whenever there was a dangerous enemy nearby.


    He began to scan the shadows with them. One of his men held out a torch to alight the thatching of the next house. Jok caught the glint of steel. A pair of golden eyes stared at him. He froze in ce, unable to give the order.


    And then, just like that, the torchlight vanished, along too with the man''s head. He fell to the floor in a pool of his own blood, clutching the wooden shaft that remained of his torch.


    "It''s the boy!" Jok realized, recognizing the eyes. They didn''t feel like the eyes of the boy, they felt closer than they were, but it was the eyes of the boy nheless. "In the gap between the two houses!"


    It wasn''t an order that he gave them, it was merely an alert, warning his men against the danger. They didn''t realize that though. A group of five dispatched from the rest, daring to plunge into the shadows after him.


    Jok heard the sound of fighting a momentter. Followed by the sound of screaming, and then bodies falling¡­ And then there was nothing.


    Beam withdrew back into the shadows, his eyes fully golden by now.


    ''It''s as effective as we thought it would be,'' a part of him thought. He could feel the fear in the air so strongly that he could almost taste it. It was like the salty air of a sea breeze, but heavier, more tangible, as though there was weight to it.


    In these shadows, alone like this, that gift that Ingolsol had given him, that gift that had scared off even Titan''s, it worked its magic, and Beam had known it would.


    The second the Yarmdon men stepped out of their torchlight, they were half-blind. Their eyes hadn''t adjusted to the darkness like Beam''s and the vigers had. They had no night vision. It took them a few moments before they could even make him out. By that time, the first man was already dead, and his sword was barrelling towards the second.


    They caught sight of half his form. He wasn''t human then, but a monster. Their eyes couldn''t tell the difference, nor could their bodies. That aura, that strength, there was no difference to them. The first hardy heart of a Yarmdon warrior crumbled to fear.


    Beam muttered an order under his breath. "Kill," he''d said, hiding his intent in the word. He''d wanted to see if he could make the Yarmdon man turn on the enemy.


    He''d seen the man''s sword hand twitch, but that was the best he could achieve. That, and freezing the man entirely in ce. The human soul was far more bnced than a goblin''s, after all.


    He wasn''t displeased by that fact. His analytical mind hardly noted it. There was only one word that met it, and that was ''good''. Things were proceeding as they should be.


    All three men that were left were easily dispatched of. Here, in the ark, not only could he wield his skill freely, but there was no one else to see the effect he was having. Though, such concerns were further from his mind than they had been before ¨C even if he didn''t want people to see that he had such a skill, as per his master''s warning, it was still a lot more preferable to being dead.


    But in the midst of battle, outnumbered, with plenty of allies around, there hadn''t even been the slightest possibility of activating it. One had to truly disturb a man''s heart for him to bepletely overrun by fear like that, or so Beam was learning.


    He killed those five men, and once more retreated back into the shadows. He circled around the edge of the house on quiet feet, set to choose his next target.


    The whole Yarmdon army was frozen in ce. They were still eyeing that gap between the two houses, the gap where darkness reigned.


    "Get some light over there, damn it!" Jok ordered. One man came rushing over with one of the few torches that they had left. He slowed the further he came to the gap. Another ten men went with him, prating the darkness.


    The whole army was forced to watch and wait.


    "There''s¡­ nothing," the man called out. Jok twisted his face, he had expected as much. No one would be fool enough to stand in one ce after an attack like that. His whole army was halted. His mind was halted. He felt like he''d been plunged into a bind.


    Those damn eyes, they''d frozen his mind half in ce.


    He nicked his hand on the edge of his sword, drawing blood. The pain stung. He''d sliced deeper than he''d expected. The blood ran warm over his hand. But it had served its purpose. With the pain, he freed up his mind once more, startling his nervous system out of that cycle of fear.


    "This is it then," he realized, his mind calming. The boy had revealed his hand with that first attack. He had no intention of letting them march deeper into the vige. He meant to do battle here.


    To ent that thought, just as Jok''s man was about to alight the roof of that house, having failed to identify a target¡­ an arrow went flying, punching him through the back of his head, anding out of his eye.

 Chapter 318: The Strings of Fate - Part 17

    The torch fell into the snow, almost extinguishing itself, but a nearby man managed to snatch it up before it did.


    "They''ve got an elite archer," Jok muttered, seeing the state of the wound the man had been dealt. To get an arrow through a man''s eye from the front was one thing, but to reach it from the back was another thing entirely.


    WHOOOOOSSH


    He heard a rush of air by his ear, and drew his head back. A trace of red marked his forehead from where the broadhead had sliced him. The arrow continued on, until it thudded into a wooden post behind him.


    "And he''s fast too¡­" Jok noted. Two arrows fired in quick session from the same person. Or at least, he assumed it was the same person, given where they''d fired from, and the uracy of the shot. Again, that arrow had been aimed for his eye, just as it had been at the man they''d killed earlier.


    WHOOOOSHHH


    WHOOOOSHHH


    Explore more adventures at m,v l''e-NovelBin


    WWWWSHHH


    He was forced to throw himself to the ground to dodge those three. He came up out of a roll just in time to see three arrows thud into the snow behind him.


    He red backwards, finally catching his first scrap of cloth. He could see the sleeve of a viger. Just for a split second, and then it retreated back into the dark.


    His men finally kicked themselves into gear. They raised their shields and locked them, forming a tight ring around theirmander. Every man had a shield in his hand now ¨C after they''d discarded their bows earlier, it only made sense. A shield to a Yarmdon was what a spear was to a Stormfront. They were the primary weapons, along with the axe.


    They tensed up, locking themselves into a turtle around their leader, ducking behind their own shields.


    THDDD


    THDDD


    Two shots hit the wood of shields, and they stayed there. Jok didn''t know exactly how many bows they had, but he knew it wasn''t many. If their n had been to pick them off with arrow fire, then they would be sorely mistaken.


    "The torch," Jok said, snatching it from the closest man. He held it outwards, and gestured, and another man took it from him, and then another, until it reached the outskirts of their shield wall.


    The final man seized it, and cautiously, he stepped towards the house again. This time, as he went, five shields went with him to guard him. The house burst into mes without issue. They''d been waiting tensely, expectantly. They almost gave a sigh of relief.


    "GURAH!"


    Just before they could rx, another man thundered from the shadows. Arge man ¨C or at least, was by Stormfront standards. Most of the Yarmdon still towered over him. He went charging in with an axe, arising from the darkness like a phantom, on the opposite side of the road to where the fire had been lit.


    He thundered past the first row of shields. They hadn''t been primed to receive him, and he easily passed them. Jok could see the man''s eyes locked onto him. He''de running in, spittle flying from his mouth, like a man possessed.


    His momentum didn''tst long, though. By the time he''d gotten to the third row of men, he was slowed to a halt, the shields arose in front of him. Jok could see the realization pass over the man''s face, as he realized that he was going to die.


    Jok expected him to give up, then, as inexperienced men always did when they were faced with death. His wasn''t even an axe made forbat. It was the thick axe head of a woodcutter, harder to wield than their weapons.


    But before his momentum could burn out entirely, the man began to swing.


    Three rows deep, his weapon went to work. He swung exactly like he was trying to split a log. A practised movement. Jok could imagine the thousands of hours that the man had put into it. His axe thundered into an unprotected shoulder. A cry of pain ran out from it.


    His weapon only stopped at the shoulder, as the shaft caught on the man''s shield. He withdrew it for a second blow, but Jok''s men were on him by now. They surrounded him from all directions. As he raised his axe into the air for another strike, two des burrowed themselves in his back.


    He copsed like a deted balloon. For a second, he had seemed as monstrous as an enraged oxen, but then he had fallen just as quickly.


    The man died just like that, easily. A wound to the shoulder was all he was able to achieve, despite his surprise attack. He should have been able to do more, but he''d been distracted. It was as though he''d only noticed the other men when they finally forced him to a halt. All the rest of the way, his eye''s had been fixed firmly on Jok.


    "So that''s it¡­" Jok realized, a smile rising to his lips, a smile of the nervous sort. "I''m their target, is it?"


    Hemended the strategy, noted its validity, and then he had to stifle augh as he looked around him. The road that had forced them to remain so close together had worked in their advantage. They marched with ten men abreast, and fifteen men deep, with Jok in the centre of them all. To reach him, they would have to ovee five rows of men.


    "YAHHHH!"


    Another cry forced his attention back towards the dying man. A woman this time, sprinting from the shadows with a knife. Her eyes ¨C they were not on him. They were on the backs of the men that had turned to kill that earlier man, who was still eyeing his corpse with distaste.


    They turned, hearing her cry.


    "BASTARDS!" She cried. She was a tiny woman, but the anger in her eyes was very real. It was as though a Dark God had possessed her. She drove her dagger between the shoulder des of the nearest man, managing to pierce a lung.

 Chapter 319: The Worth of a Man - Part 1

    It was an attack that summoned all the strength the woman had, but it barely made the man budge. He felt it, like the sting of a wasp. He turned to her with a frown on his face. An emotion of mere irritation, as though he was correcting a dog that had stepped out of line.


    A thick hand grabbed the woman around the neck, immobilizing herpletely. She drove her dagger relentlessly into the forearm, but the man did not let go ¨C not before he reached for the top of her head with his other hand, and broke her neck.


    She fell to the floor like a puppet with its strings cut. The Yarmdon that killed her tried to reach around to his back for the wound. Jok twisted his lips in distaste. A sting though the attack had been, it had still managed to pierce the organ.


    It took the man''s body a few seconds to realize that. Blood filled his mouth as his lung flooded, and his knees went weak. He copsed to the floor, shock written on his face, hardly able to believe that he''d been felled by a woman.


    And then, more attacks began to ring out.


    An arrow whizzed past Jok''s face. It didn''t have the same bite to it as the earlier two. He figured that it must have been from a different archer. His thought was soon proved, as two more arrows followed it. He swatted them away with his shield.


    From the same gap between the houses that the earlier woman hade from, there charged two more men, simrly as enraged.


    "THAT WAS A GOOD WOMAN, YOU DOGS!" Barked the first, a bearded man, with a small hatchet in his hand. To Jok, he seemed like a child ying at being a Yarmdon.


    These two men were met with a full shield wall, locked into ce. Even as they charged at full speed, they bounced off the wooden wall uselessly, injuring nothing more than their shoulders. With Jok''s men on full alert, there was no chance of breaching their wall.


    But then arrows were shot their way too.


    His men had his eyes on the front, facing off against those two fools that tried to best their shield wall. The arrows came from the side. They did not even see what killed them.


    They were not quite as freakish in their positioning as that earlier archer had put his ¨C with both of them being targetted at the eye ¨C but these two were still remarkably good shots, evidence of their hunting background. One caught a soldier in the neck, whilst another caught a man in the ear.


    Only around half of Jok''s men were wearing helmets. He suddenly found himself wishing that there''d been a few more.


    With those arrows, and those two men in, those foolish vigers burst through their first line of defence, right into the second. It did them no favours, though, for swords and axes soon came reaching for both of them. In the end, they were both cut down withoutnding a single hit.


    Jok stared into the darkness once more. His heart told him that the quiet wouldn''t resume, and he was quite right. A sudden movement caught his eye.


    "On the roof!" He shouted.


    It was that boy again. He must have sensed a spark of something in that location where those two men had died, for now he was on the low-single story roof of the nearest house, already midway through a jump, his sword drawn and his eyes focused.


    A man was dead before he even hit the ground. His movements had been swift enough that the two-man hole that had been created earlier wasn''t allowed to patch itself up. Beam kicked out against the nearest shield, sending the man stumbling backwards.


    "Gods, he''s strong¡­" Jok murmured. His blessing had not done much to augment his physical strength.


    With the stumbling of that single man, a crack formed in the shield wall, one that Beam immediately took advantage of. He could spot the slightest shift in the positioning of their shields, the slightest angling out, so that it left the smallest scrap of torso exposed. His sword snuck in off that, and gutted a man, before he kicked that corpse too, trying to cause as much chaos as he possibly could.


    Jok watched tensely. The boy was not far from him now, not far at all. If Jok chose to close the distance, he could have. He could have parted his men and charged straight at him¡­ But there was no need. That slight spark of opportunity that four people had given their lives for, it wasn''t worth much.


    Beam managed to kill two more men, before his momentum died downpletely. The Yarmdon shifted their positions, and surrounded him safely with their shields.


    It was an odd sort of battle that they''d been forced to engage in. It had all the tension of a battle of ten thousand men. Each movement was subtle, eachmander, in his own way, was looking for weaknesses in the enemy, trying to feel them out.


    For Jok, it was in a logical way, using the strategies that he''d grown ustomed to. He saw Beam dive in, aiming for the gap, as he''d sensed the boy would, and in retaliation, he gave orders to his men on the opposite side of their Shield Square, readying themselves.


    His order came just in time for another party of four to dispatch from the shadows. This lot made use of the mes that Jok''s man had set earlier. One man even crashed straight through them, holding his arms in front of his face as he gave out a mighty roar.


    But the man was no warrior, Jok could see that. From the pair of cleavers that he had in his hand, Jok would have guessed he was a butcher. There were two women with him too, and another man wielding a pitchfork.


    He saw their aggression falter, as his men''s gazes fixed firmly upon them ¨C they''d been spotted before they even managed to begin their assault. Their runs began to slow, as their instincts kicked in, and they realized that their attack had already failed.

 Chapter 320: The Worth of a Man - Part 2

    Then came another volley of arrows. The focus of Jok''s men once again proved to be their downfall. Whoever it was in those shadows, they knew how to detect the attention of their prey, they knew how to make it to an enemy''s blindspot. Once again, three men fell, without even knowing what had hit them.


    "Troublesome¡­" Jokined. But there was nought he could do to deal with as of yet. There were no group orders he could give that could make their opportunism useless. It was down to his own men to react in time.


    And now they were. He could see it on their faces, they''d perked up slightly. They were forcing their attention all around them. They held their shields loosely, so that they could raise it at a moment''s notice.


    When the next wave of arrows came, they found only wood.


    That party of four hovered nervously as the earlier gap began to close up, as Jok''s men rolled the bodies out of the way, and filled the gaps with shields.


    But by now more groups were gathering. From the rear this time, from the path of mes that the Yarmdon men had left in their wake. Somehow, this group had managed to circle around thempletely, ande back down the same road that they''d been down.


    There were only four of them there, but from the way they swaggered confidently with their walk, Jok could sense that there were more of them in the shadows. The look of them reminded Jok of Gorebeasts. Of scavengers, and criminals. He wasn''t far off.


    The men wandered, knives brandished, until they were within twenty steps of the encirclement, and then they merely began to scoop up snow from the side of the road, making snowballs ¨C sneaking the asional rock into them ¨C before sting them against the enemy.


    They hooted with delight as each onended, an unsettling childishness to their actions, despite the dire circumstances.


    Jok''s attention had been distracted by them for but a moment, but the next time he looked, that boy was gone. The gap in their shield wall that he''d left stood open, like a painful wound, but there was no sign of the one who''d inflicted it.


    "WHERE IS HE?" Jok shouted, urgently, he could feel a chill down his back. The real danger here was that boy ¨C and it was Jok''s head that he was after.


    "Ran back in amongst the houses!" Came the shout in reply.


    Only hearing that, did Jok dare to lose his tension slightly. He''d half expected the boy to be in the air. He was a creature to him by now. There was an element of supernaturalism to the way he fought.


    "Calm down..." He murmured to himself. There was a chaos here. Jok was used to fighting against a single leader, or maybe two or three of them. He wasn''t used to this kind ofwlessness. It was hard to pick out a pattern in the fighting.


    There were those individual groups of four that kept arising, each of them from different locations. At first, it seemed as though their objection was primarily him, but as soon as one of them was injured, they went berserk, and went in for each other.


    And then, one group of them even aborted the attack. They were still hovering nervously, having yet to engage. Jok half expected them to go back into the shadows. It was so tempting to send a dispatchment of soldiers after them, to crush them immediately¡­ But they felt like poisonous pieces. In a Battle game, he knew to be wary of those pieces that were easiest to obtain.


    There was no rhyme or reason to the way the fighters were acting. One group might go charging in, whilst another cowered by the sidelines. And then there were those archers, hiding a distance away, magnifying every slight change, every slight weakness. Then there was that boy on top of that¡­ That boy seemed to have his own purpose entirely. He didn''t even bring a single man with him.


    Then those men towards the rear, still throwing snowballs ¨C he could sense an element of nning in their actions. Another leader, within an army of rabble, but as of yet, they were all unified.


    Two more squadrons arose from the darkness. Six in one, five in the other. Even the size of their groups had no uniformity to them.


    One group charged straight at the shield wall, led by a particrly spirited old man. He wielded a pitchfork as though it was a spear, gave a particrly valiant battle cry¡­ And then he flung himself at the feet of the Yarmdon in his way, stabbing them through with his spear.


    The wall opened up instantly at his insane manoeuvre, and the group of five that came after he flooded into the gap.


    The old man was killed instantly. A single stomp of a hard boot crushed his skull. But the man had aimed for that from the start, he''d sought to sacrifice his life merely to secure an advantage.


    Again, this lot, Jok could feel it in their eyes ¨C they were all aiming for him. Pitchforks, axes, knives. Men and women, they gave a mighty roar, like starved animals. There was an old woman amongst them and she seemed just as suicidal as the man. She jumped at a shield like a monkey, merely to weigh it down. In response, she was delivered an axe in her skull.


    But for her sacrifice, a knife went flying through, managing to snag the man''s throat by the most impossible bit of luck. Jok could hardly believe it. It was like they were throwing coins, and by some random chance, they were allnding on heads.


    Experience new stories on m v|l e''-NovelBin


    The arrows went flying again, and another group charged. This lot mmed into Jok''s spear wall, and were repelled as effortlessly as the snowballs that were being tossed. It was as though their bodies had no weight. The Yarmdon allowed them to hit their shoulders against their shields, and then they took a step outwards to stun them.


    Axes and swords reigned down a secondter, killing them all easily, almost instantly.


    Jok narrowed his eyes. Again, there was no rhyme or reason.


    More groups came out, four this time. They mmed into the shields again. A whole group was repelled once more. Then arrows came for the rest.

 Chapter 321: The Worth of a Man - Part 3

    That group that had been hanging back earlier, cowardly, now seized an opportunity to charge forward with the rest. They saw the hole opened by an old man''s sacrifice, and now they all speared towards it like starving men, as though their Gods were waiting for them right there.


    He couldn''t understand their mentality. Were they cowards, or were they not? Were they strong, or were they weak? Were they even a threat at all? It was the strangest battle Jok had fought. Again, he felt his strategic horizon broadening.


    He felt pieces begin to fall into ce, as he had many times in his life.


    His perspective before had been limited. Limited to mere warriors. But the battle was liable to be done in all forms. Those mes that the Captain had set earlier, burning so many of their men. Those monsters that they had encountered on the way here. All of them were pieces that existed to battle with.


    All of them were worthy of consideration¡­ All of them were different.


    One could not expect tomand on a normal battlefield, seed, and then hope that such experience might continue to dominate in a thoroughly different environment. Just as the Yarmdon knew their mock battles with wooden swords were no true substitute for the real thing, so too was Jok being forced to realize a fact that he had known for a long time ¨C every battle, every situation was different.


    A goodmander had to adapt and ovee.


    This here just happened to be different to all the rest. The power of a unified force. He''d never even considered such a thing. They were weak together, and easily exterminated, but as little groups, they''d be something else. He thought of the same coins that he had thought of earlier ¨C it really was like they wereing up with heads continually.


    And that was only because there were so many different groups, so many opportunities. By dividing their forces, they''d increased such opportunities.


    Chaos was building. More and more groups wereing out of the shadows. It was nearly fifty men now that had presented themselves, either pressing against the wooden shields, or hovering menacingly a distance away.


    "There''s weakness in this," Jok could feel it. He was experienced enough with the battlefield to know that there was weakness. But novelty in and of itself was usually enough to win the battle ¨C it was the surprise that did them in. It required amander quick on his feet to deal with something he didn''t yet understand.


    He''d half expected the enemy to dwell in the shadows for a while longer, to continually make use of the shadows, for it had been effective. It would have been problematic to have to go chasing through the darkness after them. But, with no prompting from Jok whatsoever, they''d started to gather in the same ce.


    There was a weakness there, he noted. Each group could individually look for opportunity, but unless they had an experienced leader in their group, they wouldn''t be adept enough to tell the overall state of the battle ¨C and even if they were, and they made a good read, they couldn''t ry thatmand to the other groups.


    If they''d been more unified, they would have felt the effectiveness of their earlier attacks and stayed in the shadows of them. Instead, something drove them forward. He wondered if it was the same fear that would have pulled them away. It seemed that fear was now directed entirely at him.


    In him, they were seeing their most monstrous of enemies, the guard of the gate that they eternally sought to breach. They were more than willing to give up their lives for it.


    "And now who stirred up this lot to do that..?" He doubted it was the boy. The boy didn''t have a human look in his eye. He doubted he could inspire more than a handful of people. Maybe only those that understood him best would draw strength from his strength. But the vigers? They wouldn''t.


    It should have been unity that prevented them from running, but now it was the istion that did the same. They feared the istion of being left alone in the shadows. They feared leaving him alive. They feared not taking the opportunity, when it was ced directly into their hands... They feared not acting.


    Someone had forced responsibility for this battle on the individual. Someone had told them that it was up to them, personally, to take his head. Someone had indirectly told them that it was they that should walk the hero''s path, they that could save them all.


    Rather than a vague notion about killing as many as they could, and if enough of them did that, then they''d seize victory, they''d instead been handed the reins to victory themselves.


    "So that''s it," finally, Jok understood. It was that meagre notion that empowered that. That heroic impulse that caused even the most cowardly women to block a spear for their child. Some darkened mind had noted the conditions to be right, and stirred them up enough so that it could be.


    They saw victory, and it was close enough that they believed in it. After all, he was right there, or so they thought. It was only twenty or so steps, and they could reach him. Under such conditions, even the most cowardly of men felt his heart beat with opportunity, like he''d finally sighted the blind spot of a moose.


    But that was theirck of understanding. They didn''t know the world of Blessed Warriors. They didn''t know the difference between them and ordinary men.


    For the first time in his whole battle with the Stormfront, Jok gripped his sword with the intention of fighting his opponent personally. It was a risk, indeed, it went against the conventional battlefield strategy ¨C his earlier n had been sound, after all, to merely conserve his own life, for he was clearly their target, and then his men would do the rest.


    But now that he knew their n, now that he knew what gave strength to even these weak wilts of grass, he knew he could crush it. All he had to do was demonstrate his might.


    "Make way," Jok said, his voice quiet and stern. The man closest to him looked at him in surprise. He''d fought under Jok''smand for a while, and knew his proclivities. The youth would sooner hold the puppet masters strings than his own de ¨C controlling the steel of hundreds was far stronger than the steel of a single man, after all.

 Chapter 322: The Worth of a Man - Part 4

    The man stepped aside regardless. Jok was a slim youth, but none of them doubted his strength. They''d seen him spar with Kursak and Gorm on more than one asion.


    He pressed through more ranks of men, heading to where the fight was thickest, that gap that had been plunged into his shields, two rows deep, where nearly twenty men had gathered.


    He forced thest man out of the way, and he swung his steel, cleaving a woman in two.


    There was a change in the air as hended his attack. He felt it, they felt it. He grabbed the corpse of the woman that he''d just killed, and easily severed their head. He held it up to them, as blood ran down his fingers. His gaze was unflinching. He stared all of them down ¨C even those eyes that he couldn''t see, that still dwelled in the shadows, waiting for their opportunity.


    With his bloodied fingers, he ran them down his cheek, drawing their Goddesses'' mark. And then his de went to work, faster than they''d ever seen. They''d been locked in fiercebat with the Yarmdon just seconds before, but now they were bared like pigs before the ughter.


    Every opportunity Jok had to demonstrate a superhuman feat, he took it. Rather than deflecting a blow that came his way, he cleaved straight through the wood of the shaft, killing the man in the same strike, and leaving his torso barely hanging on by a mere scrap of flesh.


    The instant he saw the man beside him cower, his sword went to him as well. He killed one man after another, easily, readily. He hit one man with his boot, as he had seen Beam do earlier. He went quite a distance ¨C these Stormfront men were lighter, after all.


    Each of these viger men were weaker than what Jok was used to. They were weaker than normal soldiers, and far weaker than the Yarmdon elite. They merely needed to be reminded of that. In a few short moments, Jok butchered the entirety of that small group, and then he raised his sword, and gave orders to the rest of his men, further down the line.


    "CRUSH THEM!" He barked. Stay connected with m-v l|e''-NovelBin


    He gave them permission to break the ranks of the shield wall, if only slightly. The men used their own judgement on that. Those vigers there were in range, they went for, ughtering them without mercy. As soon as the opportunity was eradicated, the vigers were revealed for what they were ¨C untrained, undisciplined and thoroughly weak. Men and women alike were ughtered with ease.


    Arrows were fired all the while, picking off a handful of Jok''s men, but he did not mind those losses.


    Once the battlefield had quietened once more, he barked at the shadows, and those vigers still in the dark, doing his best to imitate Gorm''s roar.


    "IS THERE NO ONE ELSE? IS THIS ALL YOU HAVE? WHERE DID THAT EARLIER SPIRIT GO?"


    Jok almost smiled. It was done. There were no more movements in the dark. Their earlier spirit had been thoroughly crushed.


    ''That was all there was to it.'' He noted the conditions for his victory, and he added that to the databank of strategy that he already had. He could feel he''d grown stronger from the confrontation. His mind had been opened more broadly. In the future, he felt, there would be room for strategic development in domains that he had not even considered before.


    But he was not the only one watching the battle. He was not the only one taking notes. He was not the only one with a feel for the flow, the whisperings of the Gods, that fateful pattern that drew everything together. Some even saw more deeply than he.


    A sword came crashing down from overhead. Jok''s sword arm only made it up there on instinct, but that point of contact, that ringing up his arm, that unfathomable strength, it shook him to his core.


    Beam was above him, his eyes wide like a cat''s, but there was a glossiness to them, ack of focus, as though he wasn''t looking at him, as though he was somewhere else entirely.


    Jok felt his knees buckle, as he attempted to deal with the force of the blow. ''What manner of beast..?'' That thought shed through his head. The boy couldn''t have more than his Second Blessing, Jok was sure of it ¨C but then what was that weight to his strike? It felt as though he''d been hit by Kursak''s battleaxe, after allowing him to fully charge the attack.


    It was a monstrous strike, somehow delivered by a sword, and somehow delivered by a boy half his size.


    The two of them hit the ground together, and chaos ensued.


    Jok made his way to his feet as quickly as he could. His soldiers gathered with their shields around him. Beam disappeared amongst a mass of bodies, thoroughly crushed on all sides by all things Yarmdon.


    He''d failed to kill Jok ¨C but that didn''t matter. They''d seen it. They''d all seen it.


    Greeves felt his heart leap into his mouth as he observed from a distance away. He''d climbed on the roof of a house further down the road, and was t on his belly, watching the battlefield, as he ordered his men beneath him.


    He hadn''t seen the boy move. His eyes had been fixed entirely on the enemy leader. He hadn''t been as na?ve as the rest of the vigers. He knew it would be a near impossible feat for a normal man like himself to take down an enemymander. He knew there was a marked distance between them that couldn''t be made up by mere surprise alone.


    Even knowing that, he hadn''t been able to help the tightness that gripped his chest as he saw how easily the vigers were in. He''d felt the slow building of hopelessness. He found himself biting his lip, holding back a curse, only to see the enemy leader on the ground a momentter.


    "Did he get him?" He almost shouted that. From nothing, there had been birthed such an outrageous attack ¨C the difference in strength between Beam and that enemymander was made obvious. Even an amateur could see from the way Jok''s wrist bent back that he didn''t have the power to deflect Beam.

 Chapter 323 : The Worth of a Man - Part 5

    A momentter, Jok was back on his feet, the hope of total victory a distant memory, but a different kind of hope was born instead.


    The conclusion that Jok hade to, seeing the vigers fight, after realizing that they held the power in their hands to end the battle by themselves, Beam hade to much the same one, but from a different direction.


    He could feel the will of a man dancing about in their chests. There was a feeling that rivalled even fear there, somehow.


    Fear was dark and murky, clinging, sticky. This other thing was like the fires that burned around them. It was hot and powerful, but weak and in need of fuel. It kept the darkness of fear within them at bay, or at least, it managed to, for the few moments that they were able to control it.


    Beam hacked at a leg in front of him. He''d fallen amidst a dozen feet. He''d rolled and was ready to get up in but a single moment ¨C so too were the Yarmdon, though. They were on him from the first moment, ready to take his hide.


    He slipped through them all. The chaos was extreme by now. Their eyes weren''t just on him, but looking toward their leader as well, as the man struggled back to his feet. Jok made an effort to look unphased as he righted himself, but the damage had been done, that shield of invincibility that he''d sought to make was broken instantly. They all began toe out of the woodwork from that.


    The rest of the vigers were gathered in the shadows. They''d edged forward now, so that sleeves and hands could be made out, even before the whole body could. The Yarmdon men could feel those two hundred eyes on them, hungry. The dark distorted it, and it felt like there were far more. Nervousness ran through the group, and all the while, Beam was their target.


    But even as they sought to grab him, even as Jok gave the frantic order, it was as though Beam was made out of oil ¨C they struggled to pin him down, and with every movement, he grew closer and closer to the edge of the Shield Square, and back towards the shadows.


    "STOP HIM!" Jok roared. He was hot on Beam''s tail as well. Even if it put himself at risk, he knew just how desperately they needed to kill that boy. He''d be the hinge in the seesaw that kept the viger''s assault alive. Jok''s own preparations had beenpletely shattered. He could feel the tide turning against him.


    He shouldered men aside, storming towards where Beam was. He''d made it to the second row by now. He fought backwards, taking backward steps towards freedom, as he tried to free himself from all the attacks that came his way, from all the different angles.


    His only salvation was in that pressure that the vigers were exerting from the shadows. The outer line of men could not afford themselves the time to turn inwards, and help with Beam''s ying. They could only remain steadfast, and hope that their fellow men did the damage.


    A sword drove itself deeply into the back of Beam''s shoulder. It was one of many deep wounds that he''d gathered that day. He closed an eye for a split second, attempting to deal with the pain. Jok forced thest man aside, and stepped into range, swinging down at Beam, as the boy attempted to deal with the man that had just attacked him.


    Jok''s sword was halted by a well-ced arrow. He felt a shiver of danger pass through him, and he tilted his head back just in time.


    "Damn it," he cursed, as the arrow thudded past him. It was that archer again, the one with the impossible aim. Each arrow that he shot was so well ced that it required Jok''s full attention to dodge it, lest he turn into it, and seal his demise.


    This was the only window of opportunity Beam would have needed, but he was granted ten more. A volley of 10 arrows, caught in clusters, fired from three different locations.


    They mmed themselves into the back of those men that attempted to get in Beam''s way, buying him enough time to turn on his heel, slice open the back of the man in front of him, and roll back into the shadows to catch his breath.


    "Damn it¡­" Jok cursed again, seeing him go. The boy''s breathing had beenboured as he left, the Yarmdonmander saw ¨C and no wonder. That weakness had been the slightest crack in the armour that Jok had been offered, the slightest opportunity to bring the boy down. If they''d managed to keep him for another few seconds longer inside the square, they could have finished them.


    Even as he thought such a thing, he found himself doubting it. The boy was so unknown to him. He''d changed several times through the course of their battle. All the limit testing, all the understanding that Jok usually went about performing, it had all been for nought in this battle. If anything, it worked against him.


    A mindset ofplete and utter wariness from start to finish was all he could employ. It was a thoroughly exhausting affair.


    And now the battlefield had changed again, as though it was an alchemist he was fighting rather than a man. Someone capable of transmuting the hearts of people, as well as himself. The boy had not been their leader, Jok was sure, but now who was it that united them all?


    It was done so subtly, that Beam himself likely did not even notice it, and yet it had happened. Every step of the way, it was as though Beam was riding a river that Jok waspletely unaware of. As though he was doing battle against fate himself.


    It was as though everything had been nned from the start, everything fit together so wlessly, so smoothly, it was impossible to even see that anything was awry.

 Chapter 324 : The Worth of a Man - Part 6

    The enemy had unsettled his men with their singrity, their determination to do battle on their own terms, to solve the problem themselves, to close that distance themselves. And it had worked. It was working. But the second Jok adapted, and changed his own stance, he was met with a critical counter that approached premonition.


    It felt like he was a cliff, fighting against the sea. Every scrap of material he gave away only weakened him more and more.


    "Who the hell am I fighting now?" He found himself asking. The vigers hadn''t moved yet. Not a single word had been spoken, but there was a united determination in their eyes. By a principle of understanding that went beyond what words could convey, they all realized their path to victory even more strongly than before.


    It bound to their own wills, to y Jok himself. For somehow, they''d all been na?ve enough to believe themselves capable of that. And now each of them saw a better route, a surer strategy. To not cling to it would be to oppose the intelligence that even the most cursed of humans was endowed with.


    It was to realize that one needed arge amount of water, only to ignore the bucket on the shore of the river, and continue scooping it with their hands.


    Somehow ¨C they''d all been convinced that it was indeed water that they needed. That it was indeed Jok that needed ying. These cowardly people, of the same ilk that Jok had seen in every vige. What gave them the strength to realize that in the first ce¡­ When had Jok lost?


    That charge, wasn''t it..? When they''d ovee his forty or so men in that charge¡­ and all because of that boy. But then, he''d also failed to kill the boy earlier ¨C that was why he''d been there in the first ce. Even as he took his men to the Southern Wall, they''d been unable to kill him.


    It was impossible to tell for Jok. He felt like he wanted to do the whole thing over. It seemed like Beam had seized an advantage so early on that neither of them had noticed. Had that really been the case, though? Regardless of whether it was or not, the end result was the same. Those freshly blooded vigers had in their enemies with such ease that they believed they could take down a Commander.


    That had been the seed that had been nted in their mind¡­ But these eyes, as Jok had a feeling there were more than two hundred. He recalled the elderly man that had thrown himself in a suicide charge earlier, and the woman that followed him. It wasn''t just the vigers of fighting age that had joined in, their whole army had increased in size.


    The embers of a great fire were growing, and Jok bit his lip in irritation at that fight. "Gods be damned¡­" he cursed, as the burning houses crackled in mes behind him.


    In the shadows, Beam did not quite make the same terrifying image that Jok had begun to put onto him. His breath wasboured as he leaned against the stone wall of a house.


    He could sense bodies all around him, all of them primed and honed, like brittle knives. Sharp for the moment¡­ But¡­


    It was not only they that were being influenced by this battlefield, being buoyed by its tides. It was Beam too being tossed around by it. As he struggled to remain conscious, and pushed his body and mind to the limits, taking in every scrap of information that he could, he noted those people around him, and their uses.


    "Take the reins," Ingolsol said again. He''d said that so many times before. "Don''t you feel the power? The power of a King. Use them. Extend your reach ¨C devour his soul."


    When it was just Ingolsol speaking, Beam had been able to ignore it. Yet now udia whispered to him too. They weren''t words ¨C her words couldn''t reach him here, in the domain of darkness and despair that Ingolsol created. But he could feel her intentions.


    Two parts of himself united in a singr yearning, a euphoric feeling. Even as his body was racked with pain, he was hit by such a feeling of rightness that his mind went white, and he almost lost consciousness. It was as though all at once, a thousand years had been connected (not that he had ever lived that long).


    Earlier, it was struggle that had got him through his worst moments of fighting, ever reliable, ever hispanion, it had saved his life, and kept the battlefield going until now. He''d been forced to adapt merely to keep air drawing into his lungs. He endured the beatings, and overcame them.


    His sword edge had grown sharper, his instincts had grown stronger, he''d learned to trust his unconscious mind more, out of necessity, and his martial skill, his Poison Water Style, it all blossomed for it.


    Now, as the battlefield situation demanded that he think, that his mind adapt as well as his body, those same instincts that he''d trusted in earlier, they pointed towards the same answer as Ingolsol and udia.


    "Lead."


    "Takemand."


    "Wear the crown."


    They all spoke at once, some arrogant, greedy, and power-hungry. Others desperate, andpassionate. All the different souls of all the different thousands of years that had led up to Beam, they cried out their decisions. Rarely had a body been so united.


    It was not only those voices of his unconscious, either, it was his past as well.


    The blessed child that he had been, in his vige, surrounded by friends, as they ran through fields of grass, as Beam charged on ahead of the rest, leading them all to greater fun.


    "It''s only natural, right?" That smiling face seemed to say.


    The him that had been in the depths of despair, as he awoke to the corpses of his family, and the wounding of his liver.


    "Coward ¨C take it," he said, with dark and angry eyes, filled with resentment.

 Chapter 325: The Birth of a Leader - Part 1

    Thatst word stung, for it was that wounded boy that Beam rted to most, that shaped his identity. He felt those words resonate with truth. He''d been afraid to takemand, truly. He''d yed at it before, as Dominus told him too¡­. But that was different, in Beam''s eyes.


    He''d merely been functioning as a helper, a guardian for the vige ¨C even then, he''d failed, and that failure had almost crushed his heart.


    He''d ovee that by doing what he could. He thought he was sure that was the right answer. To lead was to be arrogant, and self-assured¡­ Beam had nothing but doubts. He couldn''t be the kind of leader that they demanded he be. The kind of leader that made the whole group his body. The kind that represented their wills, and was capable of doing whatever it took to carry them out.


    But they were so united now ¨C the crowd pushed for it. He could feel the emotions of their hearts better than any other, through Ingolsol and udia. By the same gravity that governed battle, they demanded a representative. Hundreds of eyes dragged him towards that position expectantly. They''d seen what he was capable of. They wanted to see him do more.


    They demanded it of him.


    It was a terrifying thing. They said, not as an individual, as a societal force: "You are the strong ¨C represent us."


    In those words was an implicit threat. The same threat that caused the death of the dominant ape ¨C the threat that the second he stepped out of line, that he failed to represent the group, this force of the group that now empowered him, raised him up, and demanded higher skill ¨C it would turn on him, and it would crush him.


    "Coward," his darkest self said again, a self different even from Ingolsol.


    Beam clenched his fist and gritted his teeth. He reached a hand back towards his shoulder. He could feel the warm blood straight away. The body was cut to pieces. Half of the injuries that he had should have been near-fatal, should they not get treated straight away. Yet Beam''s mind danced with ridicule, it demanded more from him.


    In a single day, it had walked a path of several lifetimes, and still, it was unsatisfied. Everything that made Beam what he was was having its say. The fire in him that burned stronger than any other fire, that went beyond the concept of suffering, beyond everything, towards something that even approached greed. His own soul condemned him, and told him, this wasn''t good enough.


    The people that he''d run from for many years, he could see the strength of their anvil, the strength of their hammer. The people, the group, they sought to beat his sword into shape.


    Everything had more meaning. Everything seemed to connect towards that single point, it seemed to point in that direction. The fear ofmand, the fear of failure, the absolute disgust that he felt with himself for takingmand of the lives of so many people, for using them ording to his will, for bing what Ingolsol dared him to be, he finally spat out his reply.


    "Fine."


    Words said through gritted teeth, from a tongue thered in its own blood. Ingolsol and udia had finallye to an agreement. Both the greatest hero and the worst viin, he was at the centre of the people, and he directed them towards his purpose.


    The viin did it with deceit, the hero did it withpetence, when society demanded it of him. Beam drew that sword out of the demands of both. The part of his soul that delighted in power, and the part of his soul that was ready to ept responsibility for a group of people, to be their will.


    The people forsook their individual wills, in the unconscious kneeling towards a greater force, towards what they trusted would bring them better results. An instinct that went all the way back down to ants.


    Beam drew in a deep breath, seeking to contain all those thoughts that rushed around his newly reignited spirit. He closed his eyes as he drew it in.


    He held it for a moment, as his heart beat slowly and strongly.


    And then he let it out again, along with all his doubts. With it, Beam arose again, a transformed man.


    The look in his eyes changed. The strength returned to his body, exceeding previous limits. All that he was, finally returned into alignment. His aura transformed.


    Gorm felt the shift from his spot on the battlefield, and his eyes widened. An immobile Lombardy next to him, his eyes closed, a gash across his middle, and his sword arm gone, spilling blood.


    "Gods¡­" He muttered, before reluctantly pointing his feet towards the vige. "Apologies, Jok. I''m going to have to intervene."


    The vigers gathered on the outskirts of Jok''s encirclement. Beam left the shadows to join them.


    He exchanged a look with a middle-aged man, as he walked through the line of people. The man''s eyes widened for a moment, but then returned to their sternness, offering him a firm nod. Beam returned it. The other looked to the exchange, and nodded to him as well.


    No words needed to be said, for it was an oue decided by the majority. They''d all settled on this. They''d seen their path to leadership under Beam''smand. He left the shadows, and entered the light to represent them.


    He stood tall, and alone, as the others hung back behind him. Jok stared at him with narrowed eyes, feeling that something had changed, once again, and he felt a bitterness arising in his chest from it. "What the hell is with this bastard?" Jok murmured. "He''d never met someone so inconsistent in all his life."


    And then the vigers stepped forward to join him.


    A trickle at first. An old man, then a woman, then a portly butcher, none of which looked as though they belonged on the battlefield, but all of them had a fire in their eyes, as though they were possessed.


    More and more came out to join them, from all sides of the encirclement. They didn''t all stand physically behind him, but it was more than clear from their positioning who their leader was.


    Jok turned his head to look behind him. Just as in front of him, he estimated there to be a hundred vigers. There must have been another fifty at either end of the square too, on the road, where those criminals had gathered.


    "The fuck is...?" Jok murmured to himself, trying to process the change that he was seeing, as more and more of them entered the light.

 Chapter 326: The Birth of a Leader - Part 2

    Another pair detached themselves from the darkness. These two ¨C two that could not have been more unalike ¨C had a different aura to the rest. Jok could sense it about them. Their position was higher, theymanded respect.


    One stood at each of Beam''s shoulders, just half a step behind him, respectfully, orderly, instinctually. You would have thought they''d practised it.


    A middle-aged man with a dangerous look in his eyes. The second Jok nced at him, he could feel the evil that dwelled inside, the despicable things that man had done. Immediately, he knew that it was that man behind those earlier snowball attempts, those earlier bits of control that he''d seen amidst the chaos.


    Then¡­ a girl, as young as the boy, with hair like a fox, a reddish brown, and a strong look in her eyes. From the bow slung over her shoulder, Jok guessed she was the archer. Competence and position went hand in hand, after all.


    Seeing them like that, he had to shake his head. His giant palm reached up to cover his face, as he struggled to stifle augh. "Skifir ger morm¡­" he murmured to himself. ''The strong rise to the top.'' He''d heard that phrase repeated many times throughout his life, but never did he think he''d witness it so strongly, in such a short amount of time.


    ''So this is it then,'' he thought to himself. ''Again there''s been change, and now the boy adopts the role of the leader.'' With his hand on his face, he thought it all through. It made his heart tremble to witness ¨C this boy, he terrified him.


    "So this is what those old bastards thought looking at me, did they?" Jok said aloud, his gaze still locked on the boy. Many of his elders had looked at him with an emotion approaching fear as Jok grew stronger at a rapid pace. Strength wasrgely celebrated amongst the Yarmdon, but there were still those that feared his abilities, and attempted to suppress him.


    Had it not been for Gorm, then he would have had a considerably rougher road.


    With that thought, it finally fell into ce for Jok. This boy was no different to he, as he strove forpetence, for new ability. Of course, his differences, his abilities, they were unknown to Jok ¨C but that did not change the fact that they were the same at heart. They were merely seeking strength, and their actions, they were all the result of that.


    When put as such, Jok could finally ept it. His weary heart forced such a decision on him, for the changes of the battlefield had been so extreme that he could do no different. He''d been caught inside the boy''s whirlpool of growth, just as other great men had been caught inside of Jok''s, and subsequently fallen.


    "But that''s over now," Jok decided, facing off against him. "My hundred and fifty ¨Cno¡­ hundred and forty ¨C against your rabble of three hundred. Do you think you stand a chance? They say a Yarmdon is worth at least three Stormfront soldiers, and you merely bring to me vigers. Do you think that in abandoning your shadows and the element of surprise that you''ll still stand a chance?"


    His words grew increasingly more heated as he spoke them, the anger threatening to rise to his eyes. As he spoke, his own thoughts on the matter fell into ce. The difference between the two armies from the start had always been clear. It was always mere chaos that gave the Stormfront a chance. Facing off against each other like this, there was only one clear oue by his eyes.


    "Fool," he mouthed the words with a smile. Beam had stayed silent throughout Jok''s entire speech, for he understood not a word of the Northern tongue. But from how Jok spoke that single word, Beam could guess what it meant. The boy couldn''t help smiling.


    It was a smile of innocence now, an unnerving smile, from a man who''dpletely reconciled all that he was. It was more simr to a monk''s smile, than to a child''s. Again, Jok felt a chill. It was like the people they were facing off against weren''t even human ¨C those vigers, they were quiet too, like an army of ghouls.


    Jok bashed his sword against his shield and called out a challenge to them. "TAKE IT IF YOU CAN ¨C THIS HEAD THAT YOU''VE ALL BEEN COVETING. I''LL HELP YOU ON YOUR WAY TO HELL!"


    With that, Beam gave his first order, a single, simple word, for now that they''d worked through the sea ofplexities, this was due to be a simple battle.


    "They''re weak. Crush them," he said.


    Simple, ever so simple. Those words, had he spoken them earlier, to the same vigers, in the same way as he was, they would have had no effect. But he was not the same person, and they were not the same vigers. They were one body now, one mind, as unified as any group of people could ever possibly hope to be. They responded with the same vigour as a limb would,manded by the mind.


    Without doubt, without hesitation, ordinary people, who were not soldiers, they charged with unwavering hearts.


    They streamed in front of Beam, for he had yet to move. That was a leader''s ce ¨C to only move when he needed to, for he was the centre of the circle.


    They ran hard into that wooden shield wall of the Yarmdon, a structure that at its best was nearly as solid as a house.


    THUD


    A great quaking shake ran through it. Jok''s eyes widened in rm, as he saw his men take a step back.


    "What manner of¡ª" He began to curse, even an army of Yarmdon would struggle to shift a rooted shield wall. For it to copse like this, off a single charge, with no other forces at y, it would have been a virtual impossibility.


    And, it didn''t copse.


    But Jok felt ite perilously close. His wooden wall felt more like a shield of ss, and he could see the cracks running through it. He grit his teeth. He felt that Shield Square as if it was his own body. Only when he noted the shift in momentum did he manage a maniac smile, as his eyes were wide and bloodshot.


    "GOT IT!" He roared.


    The men stepped out ¨C a practised tactic. They''d lured the enemy in with a single step, weakening them, and now as they stepped back in, they did so with all the force of thunder. Axes, swords and spears reigned down. Men and women were ughtered so quickly even the Dark Gods might have felt sick. Enjoy new stories from m-v l''e|-NovelBin


    "I''VE BEEN LEADING MEN FAR LONGER THAN YOU BOY!" Jok roared. "I''LL TAKE THIS VICTORY, AND YOUR HEAD WITH IT, THE GODS HAVE NOT ABANDONED ME YET!"

 Chapter 327: The Birth of a Leader - Part 3

    But the shift in tide that Jok had expected did not happen. Even as nearly fifty people died all at once, theirrades merely stepped over their corpses and continued the assault, continuing to apply pressure to the shield wall.


    Beam watched over it, stone-faced. His twomanders at his side seemed simrly unmoved. Everyone seemed ummoved. It was a shocking level of morale, one that made Jok''s smile falter.


    Earlier in the day, Beam had been crushed by a single loss. Now he was able to remain straight-faced at fifty. His own mistake ¨C that had cost him fifty lives. Fifty lives that he wouldn''t get back, all because of his ipetence. That would have crushed his soul earlier, it would have crushed the souls of the vigers as well.


    But now there was an understanding between them. Beam did not force resentment upon himself forpetence had no chance yet of obtaining. He''d known as soon as he took up the mantle of the leader that he hadn''t had the practice required to do it well. But the only way he could remedy that ipetence was by being willing to make mistakes.


    Experience more content on m v|l e''-NovelBin


    Here, mistakes came in the form of weighty prices, too weighty for the average man to bear. Such was the burden of the leader. But it didn''t break any of them. Calmly, Beam observed, as he would in a swordfight of his own, he searched for weaknesses, and the hearts of men.


    They''d hardly been rattled at the deaths, Beam noted. The fire in them burned a bright white. They were thoroughly in the grips of the hero''s realm. It was udia''s passion that ignited them, even as they fought inside Ingolsol''s domain. He could feel that, and he could feel their hearts nearly melding onto his.


    As though, if he just prodded them slightly, he could cause their mes to burn out of control.


    "Do it," Ingolsol said to him. Since Beam had taken the reins, Ingolsol had grown louder and more forceful. "Have their bodies pave the way to your victory."


    Beam ignored the voice, and continued searching for his opportunity.


    There was a scuffle further down the line of fighting, towards the road. A woman had managed to catch her fingers in a Yarmdon man''s long hair. He cut at her, but she was pulling him down, holding his hair tightly like a rope.


    Ever so slightly, she forced him out of position.


    Beam tapped N on the shoulder. She understood without him having to say a word. The exposed gap in the shield wall was just wide enough for that arrow. It punched itself through the man''s eye, just as all N''s arrows did, killing him instantly.


    Their leader set off a momentter, a boy whose speed attempted to rival that arrow. Even as the man was still falling, as the woman was still coughing up blood from the axe buried in her chest, Beam made his way there.


    She caught sight of him, in herst moments, as he reached to im victory off her sacrifice. She, who''d known no more violence than was offered at the hands of the loom. She that had never even wielded an axe to cut wood, never mind a knife in anger. Off her back, she, who knew herself to be weak, Beam built a bridge to victory.


    His boot found the man to the left side of the gap, knocking him well out of alignment. And his sword hacked into the neck of the man on the right.


    She smiled, even as she passed away, for she was delivered an acute understanding. That day, for all days, her victory would ring out. In every viger that lived, the magnitude of her being would be manifest. In every interaction that each survivor had from then on that lived, she would have a part in it all ¨C as would the rest of them.


    They were no longer individual vigers, they were Soldiers of Solgrim. Their army''s victory was their victory.


    With Beam, more soldiers streamed to that gap, like the water of the bucket finding the only hole. He punched his way inside, like a gauntleted fist through a paper wall. His swordsmanship earlier had been deadly and monstrous ¨C but now it was something else entirely. For the whole army was his sword. All of those vigers, they were his weapons, and they moved in unison with his cause.


    Before Jok could even bark an order, they''d made it as far as the third rank. The only saving grace was that they were too far to the left of him to make it to Jok in a single push ¨C they''d have to fight their way right for that. But in the most important sense, it didn''t matter, for the structure of the shield wall had already been undermined.


    "TIGHTER!" Jok shouted. "GIVE UP SPACE, TIGHTER! FORM UP ON ME! WE RIDE OUT THEIR MOMENTUM!"


    The Yarmdon were strong enough to heed his call. They started to heed his order, step by step. They were true-fighting men. Theirs wasn''t morale, but experience. They feared not death. Even still, Jok could see their movements slowing¡­ The might of the enemy was having its effect.


    They''d begun to doubt their victory.


    Not only that, Jok realized. He was beginning to doubt his victory too.


    An arrow whizzed by, burrowing its way into the head of the man behind Jok. He''d moved his head out of the way just in time, but even then, he''d been slower than he was earlier. He had to mp his hand down over his neck, as he felt the deep gash that had been inflicted in it.


    He cast his eyes towards the shooter, locking gazes with that red-haired girl.


    Were her shots more deadly than before? That skinny-armed little runt? Jok could hardly stand it. He couldn''t stand what he couldn''t understand. It went against the world that he''d lived in up until now. There was too much for him to process, too many miracles.


    Before it was he that reached into the void and came back with the ming sword of surprise, so that he might cut down his enemies and climb the greendder of progress¡­ now here he was, at its mercy.


    "Gods¡­ Have you forsaken me?" He spat, biting down his teeth so hard that they almost tore through his lip. "Damn you then. It was my own strength that got me here, my own power of will. I will not kick back and drown your illusory rivers."


    Beam was growing closer, like the head of a charging stampede of bison. His sword had all the weight of a Warhammer, as he stood, at the leader of all those men and women. He could feel it. It wasn''t just a sensation. As their leader, as the one bearing their responsibility, it gave his sword a weight and a strength that it had previouslycked.

 Chapter 328: The Birth of a Leader - Part 4

    The Poison Water Style became something else too, as though it had been preordained, all that time ago, from the first second he picked up a sword. It was as though everything he did had purpose. Now, even his martial arts style adapted to that which was around him, to his newfound reach ¨C and it did so easily, just as water did not need to think of how to act the second its volume grewrger.


    The people buoyed Beam''s might bravely. He smashed through shield after shield, with sheer brute strength, crushing many a man under the force of his blows. And then the vigers would rush after him, seizing on the tiniest of gaps, recklessly, almost stupidly¡­ But for it, more lives than they could imagine were saved.


    They built up an impossible momentum that only seemed to increase with each step that they took towards the centre, as more and more people drove themselves into the gap, wedging it apart, and dismantling the structure of the Shield Square.


    It was more than obvious to Jok now: if he waited for Beam to reach him, then he would die. Such was what his impossible steps pointed to. With every fresh man that was in, the vigers under him only grew stronger, their morale heightened, as though they were the most devout believers in a holy crusade.


    Even when they witnessed the lives of theirrades sniffed out so easily, as another axe beheaded yet another woman, they did not allow that to slow their intensity. It only reinvigorated them, as they branded their enemy viins.


    The Yarmdon took on the mantle of true evil in the viger''s souls. Everything wrong in the world was cast onto that enemy. Their hatred grew stronger and stronger, but it did not overwhelm their instinct for heroism. They truly believed in their cause, more than they''d believed in anything in their entire lives.


    All doubt was gone. All reasoning was gone. It was simply action, it was simply the moment. It was simply living.


    With every viger that charged in, another hero was born.


    A sheppard managed to force his way past the broad shoulders of a Yarmdon shield bearer, so that he might make it all the way to Beam''s side.


    A short and timid man, he was. Timid enough that even his own sheep had him spooked at times. The knife in his hand was a foreign entity ¨C he''d never swung it in anger. But when that Yarmdon axe came his way, he did not hesitate. His bravery and his fixation on that blinding light in front of him lent him a baser degree of martial skill that his fear would have otherwise cancelled out.


    He dodged that axe without hesitation ¨C the vigers were not in search of death. They were in search of victory. They did all they could to cling to life, without taking a single step back in the process.


    The Yarmdon man''s eyes widened as he felt his axe sweep through nothing but thin air. He attempted to slow it, to change its course, but down in front of him, that little rabbit of a man, half his size, with that pudgy face, and those puppy-like eyes ¨C he wore the face of the grim reaper.


    The man had to jump just for his dagger to reach the Yarmdon''s chin, but reach it did. It cut up through the soft flesh, past his beard, and it pinned his tongue against the roof of his mouth.


    "Fu¡ª" Was all the Yarmdon man managed to splutter. He had been the elite amongst the elite, given a ce on Gorm''s ranging mission, then given a ce closer to the centre of the shield square, closer to their Commander, indicating his rank as a more trusted soldier and bodyguard. And it was a man so impossibly far from being his equal that slew him.


    That cruel world that the Stormfront vigers battled against with every winter, with every failed crop and with every failed hunt ¨C for the first time in their lives, it worked truly for them. It was as though the wind itself was on their side. They reached heights in that moment of battle that they could never have dreamed of in their entire lives.


    If the sages could have described fate in a single scene, then it would have been that battle. Everything together, all at once, in a blinding disy of momentum that would have toppled even a mountain.


    "TO HELL WITH THAT!" Jok roared. He had five men with him now, as he charged forward. He had reached into the depths of despair more than once, and he had grown from it. That boy was not the only one who could evolve, who could change. "IF YOU GROW THE LEADER''S MANTLE, THEN I''LL GROW MY SWORD ARM!"


    Bravely, he called the provocations outwards. The pressure of the moment pounded on him. The pressure of all the lives under hismand. The pressure of the enemy bearing down upon them. The pressure of that boy.


    That pressure that would have toppled lesser men, Jok could feel it making him stronger. Sweat ran down his brow as he attempted to put everything together, all that he''d encountered, all that he''d learned over these many years.


    All he needed was just one advantage, just one evolution ¨C he was so close. He could feel it. The warrior''s metal that he had seen in Gorm, the same metal he had seen in Kursak¡­ And then the way the boy had fought, bringing them all low.


    He hit upon an image in his head, as he brought them together. Gorm the Bear, Kursak the Ox, Beam the Wolf¡­ And Jok, the Dragon.


    With that image in his head, he arrived in front of Beam, at the head of that charge. Beam swung, and thest of the men was brought low under his sword. The wall between the twomanders was finally removed.


    Jok felt strength in his hands, he felt hardness in his eyes. If he concentrated, he might even have sworn that wings would sprout from his back. He wanted that strength, the strength of a dragon, the strength to bring low all the mighty. That strength lent his de power.


    He swung it, and it was as though the air was cutting in two. Light danced around his wrist, ran up his body, and into his eyes.


    Beam''s eyes widened as he took it in. ''The Third Boundary¡­'' he realized. He began to swing his sword as well, to answer the challenge of that Commander, only a little older than he. He could see the dragon in his eyes, the fury that came with his near-defeat, and he could feel all the strength of his desire, and the strength of the Third Boundary with it.


    Jok''s lips curled into a dragon''s smile, as he too recognized the transformation. New power ran through every fibre of his being, new potentials. They''d been broken once again. His worldview had been perfectly shattered. He understood it now, why it was this boy, and none before him that had forced him to grow.


    It was his ownpetence that held him back, his own shrewdness. His understanding had been so vast that none had been able to eclipse it so thoroughly before. His Goddess only granted power to those that sacrificed their very reality up to her, or so Jok understood. Discover hidden tales at m,v l''e-NovelBin


    He wanted victory so badly, that he would have sacrificed more than just his reality ¨C he would have given up body and soul for it. And now his sword shed so violently it might have burst into me. Now his men were afflicted by his aura, and they too rose up stronger.


    His sword shed by Beam''s and sliced towards his shoulder, just as Beam''s own de passed Jok''s.


    There was a pause, a perfect stillness, as all theponents of that mighty battle came to a halt, as they regarded the two pivots that held it all together.


    And then Jok''s head fell from his shoulders, and the world came crashing down with it.


    The head of that great Tiger, so full of promise, slipped from the neck, followed by a stream of blood. The light slowly began to fade with it. But on that face, the mask of one who had managed to conquer his own limits, even in his final moments, there was betrayed no hint of dissatisfaction.


    He had tasted it towards the end, that perfect power. He''d pushed all he could, beyond the very limits of his own existence. It was that boy that forced him that far, and that boy that still managed to best him in the end.


    To him, Jok dipped his head, and he said his final words.


    "In another life, Great Leader, allow me to offer you my sword¡­"


    Words said to himself, for none could hear them, but that did nothing to reduce their intensity. There was a loyalty in them that spanned across many thousands of lifetimes, a crushing will that would be felt even in dimensions unknown, amongst people unaware, in actions unimagined. The First Dragon of the Yarmdon, and the Young Tiger of that''s history, breathed hisst.


    Beam clutched his shoulder where Jok''s de had reached him, feeling the heat of the attack. He grit his teeth against the pain. Rather than steel, it was as though he''d been scorched by mes.

 Chapter 329: The Birth of a Leader - Part 5

    And still, the Yarmdon were rampard, men were all around him. Even with Jok fallen, there was still half their number left, and Beam''s consciousness was threatening to flicker out at any moment.


    That was, until, the cheer rang out.


    URAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!


    YESSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS!


    AWOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!


    Various cries rang out across the vige, as the vigers bellowed out their victory. Their voices came out with the strong force of a gust of wind, billowing the already gging morale of the Yarmdon. The men''s shoulders crumbled, and strength left their weapons. Their eyes zed over, and they entered abat that was not aimed at victory, but at glorious death.


    Far from defeated, they seemed to grow even more dangerous.


    But Beam''s sword was unforgiven. Even as his shoulder, and his back bled, and his wrist was numb from all the striking, he still managed to summon the same force that he had charged in there with. His men were unified, exalted, ovee with victory, the strongest they had been.


    The enemy, in contrast ¨C though they''d hardened their hearts ¨C they''d lost the solid rock that was their foundation. They had nothing to put their backs against, their structure fragmented and shattered, until each man found himself alone, lost in a sea of vigers, attacking from all sides.


    Within the span of a few short moments, their numbers were more than halved. It was an absolute ughter. The more the Yarmdon fell, the more exalted the vigers grew, and the more their superior numbers proved to be effective.


    Beam took a moment to draw in a breath, before moving towards thest straggling groups of Yarmdon, to finish them off once and for all ¨C that was when the axe came for his head.


    "BEAM!" A cry out. A familiar voice. A voice he used to hear after many hard days digging holes merely to survive. He''d heard it, and a secondter, she was in front of him, as though to smile.


    He squinted at her through unfocused eyes, hardly able to register her hand as he snaked out to push him in the chest.


    Suddenly, her purple dress was sprayed a deep red, as it was cut straight through by a mighty axe.


    Within an instant, a span less than a moment, she was dead. As she fell, there wasn''t even an ounce of struggle in her, as though she had achieved everything that she had intended to, and there was nothing more for her to fight for.


    Looming behind her body was thergest man that Beam had ever seen.


    He shot off his backfoot without even thinking. He needed no time to process what was happening. There were around fifty Yarmdon still alive and kicking, perhaps even less. Beam''s men were still struggling with them. Even as he saw a dear friend cut down in front of him, he was allowed no room to pause, for his fate was the fate of the group ¨C he had to move on their behalf. That meant no hesitation.


    Beam leapt, guiding his strike towards Gorm''s shoulder. The man flicked his wrist, and his battleaxe snaked out at blistering speed. He didn''t even bother to defend against the strike ¨C he seemed confident that he could kill Beam before it evennded.


    It was like an illusion snaking at him. Had Beam not lived with a daily dizziness for so long, that would have been enough to kill him. But his eyes were different to a normal man''s now. He didn''t track patterns the same as them ¨C he tracked motions, the barest minimum of information that he needed in order to process the world without the dizziness growing overwhelming.


    It was Ingolsol that had inflicted that on him, thinking it a curse, but it was Ingolsol that saved his life then.


    The Dark Lord cackled.


    "Sweet despair!" He cried. "At the moment of victory, the young bud is cut down!"


    He cawed, seeming thoroughly delighted, but Beam could detect an anxiety to his tone. This, whatever it was that lived in Beam ¨C it did not want to die.


    Beam managed to catch Gorm''s de with his boot midair, enough to redirect himself, and then he flowed into another strike of his own, from that thoroughly off-bnced position, wild and goblin-like.


    Gorm''s eyes widened in surprise. "Oho¡­ So this is what did my subordinates in," he said, as Beam''s de approached his neck.


    His eye hardened then, and his aura intensified. "BUT THE DIFFERENCE BETWEEN YOU AND I IS FAR TOO VAST!" He roared. He seemed to stop Beam''s attack on sheer will, for Beam''s eyes couldn''t detect whatever had parried it.


    The boy flew off to the side. His eyes were focused on his own battle, but his senses were attuned to what was going around him. The numbers were dropped. Twenty Yarmdon were all that remained. Gorm''s appearance had been too little, toote, he could feel it.


    Gorm noted that too, it seemed.


    "STEADY YOURSELVES!" He barked, that great Commander, with so many legendary victories under his belt. Life returned to the eyes of the men that had not yet seen him, as they returned from the jaws of death, with fresh acim for victory.


    Their morale soared, but there were still only twenty of them.


    Gorm looked towards the end of the road, as Beam slowly got back to his feet. Beam found himself looking in the same direction as the giant. If it had been a trick, then Beam would have died right then as payment for his elementary mistake.


    But he could feel it, the approaching enemies, what remained of Gorm''s army. They stomped down the road with a bellow, and a roar.


    Finally, Beam''s own men took notice. He could see the fire in them flicker for the first time in the whole battle. An attack from the nk was a crippling shot to morale ¨C and they were thoroughly exposed to it now, disorganized as they were, seeking to drown out thest twenty of those Yarmdon men in their wave.


    "SPEED!" Gorm called out, hefting his axe onto his shoulder. He turned back to Beam again, about to resume his battle, but once more he was distracted. Beam saw his eyes widen this time ¨C there was surprise in there. Whatever it was had been outside the giant''s expectations.


    He dared to look once more, making the same mistake that he had before. He heard the screams, and he saw the turning of giant heads, as those Yarmdon reinforcements looked behind them.

 Chapter 330: The Birth of a Leader - Part 6

    Confusion reigned on all sides of the battlefield. Those that were able to cast their attention to that eastern road.


    Another look in the dark, the Yarmdon men were closer now, lit up by the light of one of the burning houses¡­ A scream, and then the unmistakable spray of blood.


    "BASTARD!" Gorm cried, his anger like the thundering eruption of a volcano. He swatted his hand behind him, as a viger approached with a knife, instantly crushing the man''s skull. And then he rocketed off his back foot at an impossible speed.


    Within a single bound, he''d closed the distance of several metres. Beam didn''t understand what was happening, he had no idea who it was that Gorm had been so angry to see. But he knew he couldn''t leave the giant to his own devices, he hastened to follow, as one of his trustworthy Captains took advantage of the moment to raise morale.


    "Look!" He shouted. "The giant retreats before our Commander!" He bellowed. He was thick in the midst ofbat himself, covered from head to toe in blood, helping to dispatch thest of the Yarmdon, afflicted by a passion he never thought could reach him, yet still aware of all that was going on around him.


    The vigers met his words with another cheer, and with renewed efforts, they set into thest of their enemy.


    The Yarmdon numbers past ten, as they were cut thoroughly to pieces. Gorm look over his shoulder at the ughter, as his eyes grew increasingly red with anger. He didn''t know the name of his enemy, for he couldn''t speak the man''s tongue, but the word ''bastard'' more than sufficed, so he screamed it once again.


    "YOU BASTARD INSECT! TRICKY TO THE VERY GRAVE, WHAT ARE YOU?" Gorm roared.


    The giant flew behind his men, but they were already being cut down at an impossible rate. Barely ten of them still lived ¨C and still, Beam could not see who was doing the ying. He looked to his right, to see N posted on a rooftop. She nodded to him as he ran, assuring him of her support, as she let loose another arrow, killing yet another one of those few remaining men.


    There was a ng of steel, as Gorm''s sword caught something. Beam couldn''t see beyond the giant''s back, he still didn''t know whaty in weight for him, but his sword was ready, and there were barely a few strides left between himself and the enemy.


    The Yarmdon that had been approaching on the road now had their back''s thoroughly turned to Beam. Whatever was behind them was clearly of much more pressing importance.


    A man lifted his axe, and gave out a cry, but there was a sh of something yellow, and the man''s throat was torn out, and he fell to the ground a momentter.


    On the opposite side, there was a roar, the cry of a loud man, as he drove his spear into the raised shield of the enemy.


    "DIE ALREADY, YOU DOG!"


    Now that was a voice that Beam recognized. He felt his ears perk up, like a dog whose owner had finallye home, after many long hours.


    "¡­Judas?" He murmured under his breath. He hadn''t caught sight of the former bodyguard in a good while. He''d assumed him dead, just like many of theirrades. And as Beam made it to the row of Yarmdon men, so that he could finally see past them, he discovered that he was far from being alone.


    There were nine other Stormfront soldiers at his side, all of them in terrible condition, covered from head to toe in mud, as though they''d spent thest few hours buried firmly underground. But despite the state of them, there was a vitality in their actions that was proving effective, and they were forcing the Yarmdon on the defensive with their spears, making them take steps back.


    And in the centre of it all, there was Lombard, with a bloodied cloth around his wrist, a stone expression on his face, and his Vice-Commander guarding his back, as the two of them tore into the Yarmdon reinforcements with such frightening efficiency that they seemed more like butchers than soldiers.


    Finally, Beam could understand Gorm''s irritation. He had no idea what had happened in their battle, but he could only assume from the giant''s reaction that he thought Lombard to be dead.


    It was Tolsey that Beam was more surprised to see. The youngmander had virtually vanished as Beam himself had been lost amongst the tide of earlier soldiers. Beam had been quite sure that the man was dead, yet here he was, seeming to be well enough ¨C aside from the terrible gash down the right-hand side of his face that rendered his eye fully closed.


    Gorm set into them immediately, his rage overtaking him. He''d been stunned into immobilization for just a moment, but now his axe sped with the fury of a startled serpent, more than matching the namesake of his martial style.


    "HOW?" Gorm roared, as his axe came crashing down on Lombard.


    Lombard smiled a small smile, as he deftly avoided the blow ¨C now that his sword hand had been taken, he dared not risk parrying too many blows from the giant that was Gorm.


    "A waltz is done with a partner," Lombard said, "and a battle is done not just between leaders, but between their subordinates. I counted on my subordinates being superior to yours, that is all."


    Gorm, of course, did not understand a single word. Beam cut down two Yarmdon men as he watched Captain Lombard and Gorm facing off against each other. He could feel somewhere behind him the battle concluding, and the vigers cut down thest of the men.


    "Captain!" Tolsey said, urgentlying to Lombard''s aid, as Gorm descended upon him with fury. Continue reading at m|v-l''e -NovelBin


    "Tolsey ¨C attack him, don''t defend me," Lombard said patiently. "The only way to bring down a giant is with a thousand spears."


    Carefully, Beam kept an eye on their conflict, as he continued to cut down thest handful of Yarmdon men that stood in their way. He soon found himself with his back to Judas. The man gave a clear sigh of relief the second he caught sight of him, even as he wrestled away the de of an approaching axe with the shaft of his spear.

 Chapter 331: The Birth of a Leader - Part 7

    "Thank the Gods you''re still kicking," he said. "Seems you''ve worked a bit of a miracle in my absence."


    "Cut them down," Beam said calmly. Judas managed to spare him a nce in response, even as he wrestled against his opponent. His ears widened, as did his grin. He felt the fire that filled his chest, and the renewed strength that filled his limbs.


    "Gods be damned, the boy''s only gone and grown again," Judas said, as he struggled against the man and his iing axe. "I suppose that means I need to get my act together..." He gritted his teeth, and with a roar of effort, he forced the man off him.


    A secondter, his spear went speeding forward, mming itself into the man''s gut, sneaking just under the raised shield. "Damn you," Judas said, wearing his finest smile, as the Yarmdon red at him with hate-filled eyes.


    The Stormfront soldiers next to them managed to deal with their opponents as well. They had enough of a numbers advantage that they could go two against a single enemy, or even three, in some cases, and slowly but surely, their numbers there were once again cut down.


    Gorm didn''t even need to look to feel his men dying. It felt like a wound on his own body, a sh across his gut, spilling his precious lifeblood¡­ His anger rose, and he attacked Lombard with renewed vigour.


    "THREE HUNDRED, A THOUSAND, TEN THOUSAND! MY AXE WILL NEVER SLEEP, NOT UNTIL BOVIR HIMSELF STRIKES ME DOWN!" Gorm roared, and he meant it, every word of it. He embodied the berserk spirit of the Yarmdon people more than any of them. He walked amongst the halls of their finest warriors, and held esteemed positions in their most exalted tales.


    Gorm the Giant, Gorm the Grey Bear, Gorm the Bridge Bearer ¨C there were many titles afforded to him by his people, and more less pleasant ones afforded by his enemies. He''d begun his career alone and wild, a creature of the woods, untamed and monstrously strong.


    With each victory that he won, with each song that they sang about him, he''d grown more and more fond of his people. In time, he even learned the value in the position of the Commander, though he had his own ways of doing things.


    He''d dreamed of reaching that Sixth Rank, as many men before him had ¨C and he felt, in his heart, the road there could only be walked with many strong subordinates at his side.


    And now, in a single swooping blow, in a single reckless decision to venture South, as winter approached, they had all been taken from him, and once again, Gorm was alone, a ghost of the mountains, a wild Grey Bear.


    His axe was deadlier than those who imed to be his martial superior. His body was nearly impervious to wounds. Even as Beam, Lombard and Tolsey all surrounded him, with a row of Stormfront spears lending them their aid, the monster that was Gorm did not give in, he would not yield to their meek strategy. He would prove, as he always proved, that strength would prevail.


    The whites of his eyes had long since gone a deep red, as he dared not blink, as he defended all sides of himself at one. A weak spear attempted to pierce him from behind ¨C without even turning, his axe snaked around, and cut off its head.


    All the while, Lombard watched him with a calm look on his face, staying just far enough out of range that Gorm could not fullymit to him, even as he did his best to target him. ''Just that man''s head,'' he thought. ''Just that man''s head, and it will all be worth it.''


    But fate was not so kind. Beam continually hounded the giant warrior from the back, his movements fluid and efficient, demanding his constant attention. Each strike that hended struck so perfectly, that it made Gorm''s rage waver, as he felt a degree of respect as a martial artist.


    ''That one will go far,'' he said, with a grim smile in his heart that did not reach his lips. ''This one was my mistake. I should have crushed the subordinates from the start.''


    Even as he made such humble recognitions to himself, his axe swung with reckless ferocity, and rage contorted his face.


    The vigers had begun making their way out of the vige by now, having dealt with thest of the Yarmdon men. They came to see the fall of thest giant, the symbolic centre of all the struggle that they''d had to ovee.


    N''s bow soon joined the fray, and the tide began to turn. Read new chapters at m_v-l''e|-NovelBin


    Three strong swords had been enough to wear Gorm out, even if they were swords of those beneath him. The soldiers on top of that served to irritate him greatly¡­ But those arrows, they tipped the scales against him.


    With those arrows, there came many more, as the hunters of the vige retrieved their bows, hunting the greatest prey of their careers.


    Finally, a blownded. The first was afforded to Beam. Gorm moved to parry one of N''s arrows as it zoomed towards the back of his head, and an instantter, Beam''s sword was there, making the fullest use of the opportunity, cutting down the full length of its back.


    With that blow, the giant staggered. Tolsey''s sword found its way into the man''s gut next, cutting open the giant''s intestines, but pinning the bearded Vice-Captain in ce. Gorm''s arm began to raise itself again, pulling his battle axe along with it. One of them he would take to the grave. One of these mes he would snuff out, he was determined to.


    But then more arrows plunged into his back, more spears skewered through his front. One snagged its way through his arm, pinning it against his torso.


    He attempted to struggle, but his limbs could move no more, like a lion caught in a.


    His eyes rested hatefully on the only man who had yet to join the attack.


    Lombard breathed in some cold air through his lungs, and nced at the stump where his right hand had once been. "You took my right hand, honoured foe. Allow me to take your head."


    He said such words with the utmost of knightly respect, dipping his head, as he cast his eyes towards the ground. It was not Gorm''s culture, but he appreciated the sentiment. In his heart ¨C he acknowledged this man who had bested him, as he always had with all those that he tricked him in the past. He acknowledged his defeat, and he gave thanks for a battle well fought.


    ''Should have¡­ Should have moved in earlier.'' He thought to himself, before the de came for his neck, as he recounted Jok''s battle with Beam. But then he chastised himself for that. Regrets were for the strategist. He operated on instinct. He made the best choices that he could with what he had.


    He''d oriented himself for the greater victory, against that encroaching darkness, but in the end, he''d reached too far.

 Chapter 332: The Birth of a Leader - Part 8

    It was those same instincts that have given him all he had. To turn on them now would be to deny all that he was. No, he was not the sort of man to do that. He hardened his face, and closed his eyes.


    The sword whipped mercifully straight through the neck, severing the head without causing any more pain than necessary.


    The men surrounding the body still could not find it in themselves to rx, even as they saw the giant head fall from the giant neck. It took them a good few moments before they dared to remove the spears that pinned the man in ce. Even dead, Gorm was a terrifying man.


    "Luck to those that bare the darkness in our ce," Gorm''sst words, murmured in a foreignnguage, had caught the wind.


    They didn''t know what the giant had meant, nor what that greater instinct was that he was operating on, but still, even with that body lying t in front of them, and all the Yarmdon bodies strewn around it, many a man could not bring himself to rx.


    They were looking into the darkness for more. More enemies to be in, more devils to be rooted out. But none came. They were left with nothing but pounding hearts and feelings of uncertainty.


    "We won, right?" Judas said, carefully looking around. As he looked back, he could see that all the fighting in the vige was done, and the stream of vigers that had begun toe their way had halted, when they''d seen too that their battle was over.


    Tolsey answered that question on behalf of the others. "Aye, we won," he said firmly. "But at what cost?"


    Find your next adventure on m_v l|e-NovelBin


    His eyes were pointed towards the fort, where the rest of their alliesy, in, in the blood-red mud.


    "A lesser cost than we might have been allowed in other circumstances," Lombard said, casting a sidelong nce toward Beam. "Those vigers have it written on their faces ¨C they look to celebrate."


    Beam had noticed that too. There was a careful joy to the viger''s movements. They were just as restrained as the soldiers, just as wary, as though they couldn''t quite yet believe that they''d won. Most seemed to want to go and check on their family members before anything else. N was no exception.


    "If they''re gone, I''m going to look for Mother," N said, unable to keep the anxiousness out of her voice. She''d looked carefully to Lombard as she said such a thing ¨C the Captain had been in the camp, after all, where her mother was supposed to have been. If something had happened to her, then he would have known. But the man remained quiet.


    "I''ll go with you," Beam offered. "We still don''t know when the monsters wille back."


    "Indeed ¨C it seemed that everyone had forgotten. It''s the monsters that a man truly fears. Men are just men, after all."


    Many of the soldiers found themselves nodding in agreement at thatment, Judas included. "That''s true," he said. "Give me a Yarmdon over one of those Titans any day of the week."


    Even as he replied, he did not stop to think where the voice hade from.


    There were only a handful of them that felt the hairs on the back of their neck raise, as though it had been brushed by a chilly northern wind.


    Their muscles tensed, and their shoulders hunched, and they found their feet rooted in ce.


    The voice was dripping more malice than any of them had ever felt. It was crushing. Unnerving. Terribly sickening.


    "Monsters¡­ or Mages," Lombard said.


    "Bingo."


    With those words, it was like Lombard had cast a spell.


    The vige had been growing darker, as those burning houses burned their way through, and the mes found themselves without the fuel to keep their light casting. None of the vigers had found it in themselves yet to go grabbing torches. They were still highly uncertain, and for good reason.


    Azy man might have been pleased by that fact, for the torches were no longer necessary. Not now that the whole horizon was on fire.


    As far as the eye could see there were mes. In a shudder at that realization, Beam turned to look behind him. And there, off in the distance, he could see them too. mes burning like the hearth fires of the underworld. A whole ring of it.


    They were mes of the darkest ck, yet somehow, they gave off light. Or perhaps that was the incorrect term ¨C for the world around them was still ckened, fully encased in shadow. Yet there was something about the fire that made the human eyes able to see everything that was around it.


    It was as though it wished to deny the human mind the hope that light offered, but at the same time dismiss his ability to be willfully blind. In short, it seemed as though they existed purely for torment. These mes, running their ring around the whole vige, all the way up to forest, and around the fort.


    It was like a magic circle with a two-mile radius, possibly even more. Such a thing on such a scale, it was monstrous, and the pressure from the power it exerted was not to be sniffed at. It was as though the air was filled with smoke. Every breath that a man took was only half-satisfied.


    The other of it, there came an irritation, like poison, forcing him to cough. So cough he would, only to recover, and find himself spluttering again a few momentster. N''s hand went to her mouth, as she choked against the horrific air.


    "What¡­ is this..?" She croaked.


    "Ah, finally, someone asked," that same voice from earlier said, gleefully. Beam couldn''t see who it was that was speaking, yet it was as though the man was speaking right into his ear. For a few moments he''d been convinced it was Ingolsol, but from the looks on the faces of those around him, they could hear the voice too.


    Beam shot Lombard a look. ''Is this a mage?'' it seemed to say. Lombard nodded firmly back, his jaw tight, as he continued to clutch the bloodied bandages around the stump that remained of his sword arm.

 Chapter 333: The Birth of a Leader - Part 9

    "Ah, ah, listen!" The voice said, having noticed the exchange. "If you don''t, people will die."


    A vige exploded a short distance away. He''d been at the front of the reinforcement charge, when he''d seen that Beam and Lombard were having trouble with Gorm. He''d worked himself up bravely. Normally a mild-mannered man, he''d done more than his fair share in the battle that they''d fought. The blood on his clothes was evidence of that.


    And now, his body was nothing more than a pile of reddened pulp.


    One moment, he had been standing anxiously with the rest of them, his fingers nervously gripping his axe, as he looked off into the distance, trying to find the source of that voice. And then in the next, he''d felt a light pressure in his stomach, as though he''d needed to burp. That feeling had magnified, until he was sure he needed to be sick. Explore hidden tales at mvl


    And then it had continued, as his eyes bulged from his skull, and the pressure in his head increased so much that he lost consciousness. And then his entire body exploded with it.


    Those around him stared in shock, but none of them started to squeal or throw a fit of terror. A greater terror prevented them from doing such a thing. It was as though there were invisible fingers around their necks, holding them in ce, like cors on cattle.


    "Gooooooooooood," the voice said firmly, once silence had returned. "I thought one of you might have protested that, being the naughty boys that you are. Verryyyy clever. Cleverness is likeable, it is. Highly likeable. Far better than prettiness.


    I cannot abide by a pretty woman with a hollow head."


    The man rambled, and his voice only grew louder in their ear. At first, it was as though he had been standing next to them, but now, he''d somehow managed to get closer, until his lips were right against the lobe, and they could hear his breath with every line that he spewed.


    There were movements in the mes, off towards the east, that ented the movement of the voice. Those great big pirs of ck ¨C taller than even the tallest of trees ¨C rippled, and a gate formed through it, as though someone had opened the portcullis of a castle. In stepped through a figure, clutching a staff.


    The moment they saw him ¨C though they could not make out his immediate features, for he was still quite a distance away ¨C they were hit by the understanding that the voice belonged to him. It was still loud in their ear, but at least it had a point of origin now. They could trace the source back to him, on the other side of that snowy field, surrounded by ck mes.


    The man did not step through by his lonesome either. At first, one might have thought it was merely shadow trailing after him, but with each step that he took, that shadow rippled. After a few more steps, the shape of human bodies was impossible to dismiss, cloaked in the same dark robes as he, though their hoods were raised, hiding their faces. His did not seem to be.


    "Helllllooooo everyoneeeee," the voice sang, now that he was quite sure they were all looking at him. The shadows spread out behind him. There must have been a hundred of them, easily. "Now, I''m sure you''ve spotted my minions, have you not? Veryy good. Now, if you would, cast your attention to the North, the South and the West as well, you will see that I have made Hell rather symmetrical, haven''t I?"


    With his permission, they looked, and as they looked, they saw, just as he was sure he would.


    It was as though someone was holding a mirror in every direction. From the West, the North and the South, they saw just the same as what they saw from the East. A man in dark robes, with a staff, leading a hundred cloaked figures.


    And now again, his voice lost its point of origin. It seemed to being from all those figures at once. It was a disy that so easily nudged a man towards madness, that several vigers already began grabbing at their eyes, trying to rush the illusion away.


    "Ah, no no no no. Don''t do that," the man spat. He genuinely seemed to be angry this time. "I''ve put a lot of hard work into this performance. If you don''t see it, then who will? Spiteful, you''re all terribly spiteful."


    Before he''d even finished condemning them, each of those vigers that had dared to cover their eyes exploded, in the same red mist as thest man had, nearly ten of them in total. Beam felt his mouth harden in anger. He could still feel the viger''s wills as if they were his own body. He wanted to end this man.


    "Ohohoho," the mage sang. "I FEELLLLLLLLLL YOUR ANGER! SUCH BASER EMOTIONS! SUCH PRIMITIVE MINDS¡­ Now, hold it in, or more people will die."


    This time, no explosions followed the threat, but Beam still felt his eyes wide, and his heart beat pound. His grip on his sword was tight¡­ but that man was just so far away.


    Ingolsol''s voice rang in his ear just as loudly as the mage''s.


    "Despair. Despair. Despair. Despair. Despair. Despair.


    Despair. Despair. Despair. Despair. Despair. Despair.


    Despair. Despair. Despair. Despair. Despair. Despair.


    Despair. Despair."


    The same word over and over, in an almost boring cacophony of noise.


    "Who am I¡­?" The voice said, as if responding to the question. "Well, that''s true¡­ I suppose I had better introduce myself, though I really wish you hadn''t asked."


    Even as he continued to talk, he drew slow steps closer and closer to the vige. Well, it was less ''he'' and more ''they''. They all moved in perfect symmetry with one another,ing closer at the same rate, like the city walls themselves were closing in on them.


    "I am¡­ A rare breed, that is what I am," the mage said.


    "I''m he who gets up early, and works untilte. In short, I am not a man much different to you, at least in the surface sense¡­. But deeper down, I''m clearly, you know, far better. That''s obvious, right? Right? I don''t need to point that out.


    I mean, look at yourselves. You''re rats caught in a giant trap."

 Chapter 334: The Birth of a Leader - Part 10

    "What separates me from baser filth like yourselves? Likely my pure heart. I''m far too good to people, after all. Far, far too good¡­ That''s why, even now, I hesitate to reduce you to mere atomic scraps of flesh¡­ But your eyes continue to wander, and a good man must still stand up for himself, and bark at obvious signs of disrespect."


    Another man exploded. Beam clenched his fist. He could hear the creak of leather about the hilt of his sword. Those that stood next to him could feel his wrath, stronger than they''d ever felt it before. But even as they felt it, they knew they could not look at him. They felt the knife of death permanently at their throats, and cold sweat trailed down their backs at such a realization.


    "Ah, yes, I suppose now might be a good time to reintroduce the rest of our friends," the mage said. There was an audible click, as he clicked his fingers together. There was a sh of green light, like the bursting of green me. It forced any who looked towards it to squint heavily. And by the time they''d looked again, hell had already opened up.


    The snow melted wherever those robed figures walked. With each step forward, that pure pristine white was once more reduced to the few scraps of green still left. And then even that green began to wither, as the grass greyed then ckened, until it rottedpletely, and became nothing more than dust.


    That dust fell into the earth, only to be scattered by a wind that didn''t exist. There was no sign of the outside world in their cage of ckened mes. Even the sky was denied to them. The moon and stars could not reach them. Only the eyes of the Gods that really strained themselves might have been able to make out figures, but that was the best they could do.


    In that cage of unnaturalness, that ckness of spirit and soul, all withered as soon as it came in contact with them. And when that mage''s click rang out, that withering was given purpose, as the ground shook and trembled, as though liquid, as though giving birth.


    The green light that the mage had cast was caught on the ends of the robbed figure''s weapons. In an instant, they''d each managed to brandish them. Spiked ils hanging on the ends of chain, now green with me. Swords with horrific-looking jagged edges, now fully coated in that same me. A pair of knives dual wielded by a smaller figure, the size of a child.


    A spear, with mes of green that danced on its very end, and fired in concentrated bursts at times like a missile.


    The robed figures seemed unmoved by the weapons that they''d gotten in their hands, or the deadly green mes that clung to the end of them. They were within a mile of the vige by now, and they merely stood, motionless, like dark statues, as ominous as they could be behind that man.


    Closer now that he was, they could see the length of his ck hair, and the paleness of his skin. They couldn''t quite tell yet, for he wasn''t close enough for the smallest of details, but from afar, it seemed that he was a peculiarly handsome man.


    Experience new tales on mvl


    And the mood by the feet of all four of these peculiarly handsome men, it danced, as though given life, just as Beam had before seen the flesh of monsters dance when they evolved.


    The mud ran itself liquid, and a trench sank into the soil, a fissure of demonism.


    A tendril of ckness reached up from the fissure, and hardened itself into a w. A w that Beam recognized, for he had killed enough of them. He only hoped that it was the w of the weaker species, and not the evolved versions.


    More tendrils shot out, and more ws formed. This time, rather than the w of a Gorebeast, Beam saw three-fingered vice-grips of one of the Konbreaker. Unnerving, thoroughly unnerving was the sight. And from a single trench, hundreds upon hundreds of those tendrils reached up.


    Beam had seen such things before, and it still unsettled him, it still ran chills down his spine and through his heart. For the vigers, it was another matter entirely. He could feel their hearts wavering, going towards that which Ingolsol continually sought.


    "Despair. Despair. Despair," Ingolsol sang.


    Another voice joined Ingolsol, gleefully, idently. "Despair," he said. His voice had a peculiar music to it now. The closer he came, the more human he became, and the more human he became, the more haunting he became.


    Beam could feel it. The mage was watching them all carefully. Only now had he uttered the same word as Ingolsol. Only now had he revealed that he had the same intentions. And now Beam could feel that it was working. The vigers were right on the cusp of it, that true despair that reigned down when truly everything was taken from them, when everything was beyond hopeless.


    The creatures crawled out from the trench. One Gorebeast, then to, then a Konbreaker, then another, then a hobgoblin, then another¡­ And then there were ten of them. Ten hobgoblins, twenty Gorebeasts, and ten Konbreakers.


    Even with such numbers, the trenches did not cease their bubbling, and on all sides, more of the same creatures came crawling out. One tendril of darkness wasrger than the others. Another tendril joined it¡­ And then another. Seeing it, Beam had a particrly bad feeling. Three more such tendrils began to bind themselves together, until they were roughly of the same size.


    By the time the first Half-Titan made his presence known, the first viger broke. Beam could feel it like a needle through his heart. Something had snapped in the woman. She was blown out at her weakest point. Her vision of reality had been severedpletely, unable to survive under the pressure that she''d been put under.

 Chapter 335: The Birth of a Leader - Part 11

    Like a ss bowl heated and then suddenly thrown into ake of ice, she shattered. She''d been thrown into what should have been the worst moment in any a viger''s life ¨C a Yarmdon raid. She''d been prepared to die there, they all had been. Such was the life of a viger.


    They''d grown up with such a possibility permanently in the depths of their minds, When the moment finally came, they were only too quick to make their peace with it.


    And yet, they hadn''t made their peace. They''d done the impossible that no viger would even dare to dream of. They''d manage to fight back. They''d fought, they''d survived, and they''d won.


    They''d tasted such a victory, after such odds, they''d achieved impossible feats that even trained soldiers couldn''t manage¡­ And now, after ascending the tallest staircase offered to one in their position, she''d been brought down straight towards the depths of hell.


    The strange thing wasn''t that she''d broken. The strange thing was that the others had yet to. Many of them still had yet to sever their battle readiness. Even as morale came crashing down, many of them did not teeter towards despair, because they shared such a burden with their fellow men, and with their leader, who even now, held them all together.


    This woman could not. The knife shed, and it was the woman closest to her that she attacked.


    Two screams rang out. The scream of a woman losing her mind, and the scream of a woman losing her life.


    A thoroughly horrific affair. To survive all that they had, only to be killed by the hand of an ally.


    The mage cackled, and he sang that word out again, as though it was a song. "Despairrrrrrr," he said. "Oh, the sweetness of despair. To give it all for power. To surrender all that one has. To offer up a ck rose towards his majesty, and to be given the power to topple kingdoms in return.


    Suchhhhhhhhhhh sweetness. Sh joy. Such such such¡­ Ah. I can barely contain it. How will they react when they finally see it?"


    His voice went high and childish towards the end, squeaking with a horrid excitement. Beam could guess what he was excited for. Two Half-Titans had climbed up in all four locations, but there was still a mass of ckness,rger than even they were, that had not yet formed into anything yet.


    Judging from the size of it, it was impossible for it to be anything else¡­ But still, Beam found himself hoping that he was mistaken, that there would be some sort of overreach, and it would copse before it could trulye into fruition.


    But the Gods did not hear his thoughts, it seemed. It reached out, with the ws of a Gorebeast, only three times its size. With those, it dragged itself out of the hole, slow andnguid, as thoughzy. Even with its limbs formed like that, the flesh on its back still rippled, as it changed, and many spikes arose.


    On its chest, there was the shell of A Konbreaker, only this shell was the size of a mansion''s gate, fitting for a beast of its size.


    When it finally drew itself properly upright, it dwarfed the Hobgoblin sopletely as to be ridiculous. It was at least double the size of the two Half-Titans beneath it, and they too were at least double the size of the Hobgoblins.


    Beam wasn''t quite sure, but he thought that each of the monsters in front of him wererger than those he had seen in the past. There was a strength to their souls as well, a hardness that would not be easily dismissed.


    When the Titan opened its mouth to give a roar ¨C and all the other Titans did so at the same time ¨C more hearts began to shatter, three this time, plunging themselves into despair, as they were hit with a roar that felt more like a seismic wave, shaking them off their feet.


    "So that''s a Titan¡­" Judas said grimly. Even in his darkest moment, he couldn''t help his character. He couldn''t help those snide littlements ¨C they were one of the few things that allowed him to keep his grasp on his sanity, whilst others were already breaking.


    It seemed as though Judas had chosen his timing perfectly, for the mage did not notice. He was still gleefully observing the breaking of a handful more souls.


    "One¡­ Two¡­ Three¡­ Ohhh, five!" He counted them gleefully. A man this time¡­ four of them, followed by another woman. Within the span of a moment, they went from civilized people, to demons.


    They''d been ordered in ce, but the vigers couldn''t hold it anymore. Another man was pushed to the floor by one of Ingolsol''s cursed, and he was savaged. He was stabbed again and again and again, until the strikes passed thirty, and the whole world lost count, for the whole world turned away.


    "More!" The mage shouted. "Dice him up, these ingrates!"


    But the mage was still shouting, as though he was drawing the deepest pleasure from every viger that slew another. His monsters hung hauntingly by his side, along with his robed figures, on every corner of their vige.


    The fissures spat out thest of their power. With them, there came another fifty Horned-Goblins, with bows and spears along with them. Seeing them, Beam felt his heart sink. One army would be one thing¡­ But four? And then there was still the mage, with his unknown abilities, able to make men explode without even touching them.


    The vigers moved, those that still had not given quite into despair, who still had the slightest flickerings of light left over from their victory.


    "They''ve fallen to The Madness!" One man called. "We''re going to have to finish them!"


    And he was not a maverick for saying so. The Madness was known to be incurable. Though, it was worse than that. For every moment The Madness inflicted vigers breathed life, they grew more and more dangerous, more and more powerful, until it would take a whole group of people to take them down.

 Chapter 336: The Birth of a Leader - Part 12

    Already, the first woman to break was able to hold off a handful of men. One grabbed her arm, pinning her in ce, but she was able to overpower him ¨C as a woman half his size ¨C and immediately snatch her arm back, before punching him in the chest, sending him crashing to the ground.


    The worst part of it all was the joy that sat on the faces of those that had given in to despair. There were full smiles there, and all the energy of the damned. They were stronger and faster than they''d ever been as sane individuals, and for every man that they stabbed, that strength only served to increase.


    Chaos soon ensued.


    The mage sighed, noting that he had been forgotten, noting that his hold on them had been somewhat broken, as they determined the despair inflicted individuals to be of higher priority.


    "Resist, and die," the mage said, his words ented by the exploding of another dozen people. "It''s up to you."


    Three more people gave into despair at that. The pressure was too much¡­ From all sides, it ground them down. It was as though they''d be the ythings of a Dark God, and now they existed in his hellish domain, doomed to eternally be victim to his torment.


    Finally, N could take it no more. Her hand grasped Beam''s wrist. He turned to her, seeing the tears in her eyes, seeing the desperation. And she saw it in his, how those golden flecks dance amongst the green and blue, how he hardly seemed to blink.


    "Lombard," Beam said, firmly, finally, as though he''d made up his mind. "How''s he doing it, and how do we make it stop?"


    Lombard didn''t need to ask what Beam was referring to. It was the threat of immediate death that they needed to deal with first. The mage''s dark ability to snuff out a life with a mere click of his fingers, from apparently miles away¡­ It seemed too strong a power to be true.


    Beam could sense that the mage was strong, in a dimension that he could not understand ¨C but he didn''t think he was strong enough to hold such a power without weighty conditions.


    The answer that Beam was looking for didn''te as quickly as he''d hoped. Lombard was as much of a stranger to magic as he was.


    Another man exploded, this time he was but a short distance away from Beam. He could see the light in the man spasmed before his death. He''d been right on the edge of it, right on the edge of despair, just as the others had been before him.


    It was a risk, something Beam wasn''t even certain of, but he had to act, his body wouldn''t allow himself to stay rooted in ce any longer.


    "IT''S A TRICK!" Beam shouted. "HE''S USING THE DESPAIR!"


    Lombard didn''t have the same understanding of the situation that Beam had. None of them did. None of them could sense the fluctuating emotions in the hearts of the vigers as clearly as he, for none of them had lived with the curse of Ingolsol as he had, and none had awakened to that power. But the Captain knew just enough for him to understand.


    He understood in the same way that he knew a fire was hot. He knew if a person reached a certain breaking point, a certain level of despair, then they would give in to The Madness, or to Ingolsol''s curse, as the knights knew it to be.


    He understood that, even if he didn''t understand it with the same uracy as Beam¡­ He knew there was peculiar power in the moment that a person gave way to despair. There was something about Ingolsol''s curse that rivalled udia''s in a sense¡­ In the way it made a man stronger.


    To take the power that was inherent in that moment, and use it to make a man explode from a distance, as something of a theatrical effect ¨C that made more sense to Lombard. For the mage to take advantage of something that was already happening, and to act as a catalyst for it, that was far different to being able to explode any man at will regardless of circumstance.


    The vigers weren''t quick to react to Beam''s words by any means. But they didn''t need to be. There was power in Beam''s voice now. He had rarely spoken to them, he''d hardly given them orders ¨C yet he''d been established firmly as their leader. In the centre of chaos, more than the Captain of the soldiers, who''d been baptized in the fires of battle many times before, it was Beam that they looked to.


    His words flickered a slight bit of light back into their darkening hearts. It was just enough to stop any more of them from yieldingpletely to despair. Still, their spirits were far from being stable. It was hell they saw in front of them, surrounded by it on all sides.


    These were monsters that many of them had never seen before. Many of them had never even seen a regr goblin, aside from the corpses that a lucky ¨C or unlucky ¨C hunter might have brought back with him.


    And now they were being forced to stare off at Gorebeasts, Konbreakers, Hobgoblins and Horned goblins. Then there were those Half-Titans as well, those that had terrified even trained soldiers, sending shivers down their spine.


    To top it all off, there were those Titans too, and the man that led them all, with such a handsome face, and such undisguised malice. Even their own people had given way to madness ¨C that was a horrifying thing in itself to witness.


    A woman continually ran forward, her small hatchet making a ''whoosh'' through the air every time it missed its target. She continually chased the same man ¨C her husband ¨C and he frantically did all he could to stay out of her range, a distraught look on his face.


    His wife''s eyes were not her own. Her face was long and hollower than he''d remembered. Spittle ran down her chin, and evil radiated from every pour of her body.

 Chapter 337: The Birth of a Leader - Part 13

    He saw the axe that came for her back. He tried to cry out for his fellow man to stop, but with a dull thud, the heavy de crashed into her.


    She looked over her shoulder, twisting her neck at an inhuman angle, with inhuman noisesing out of her mouth, more simr to the hiss of a snake than the cry of a woman.


    Dark ck blood well up from her mouth, but she didn''t fall yet. She turned to the man that had wounded her, and attempted a swipe. But by now, another woman hade from the side, a still-sane woman, unafflicted by Ingolsol''s curse, wearing a look of pity on her face. She stabbed the Cursed woman in the stomach, slowing her once more, but not quite yet killing her.


    "No¡­" Her husband had copsed to the floor a short distance away, his own heart flickering towards the realm of despair and hopelessness. It was a crushing attack. Seeing it as he could, Beam soon realized that despair was a disease.


    When wielded by Ingolsol, and by this mage, it could be described as no other such thing. A terrible, fast-acting virus, as one man became Cursed after another, forcing his friends and loved ones to kill him, only to afflict them with the same despair, as they were forced to do the unimaginable.


    "DO NOT YIELD TO IT!" Beam shouted. It was an order. They''d subordinated themselves to him, and given him the authority to give such an order. An order without exnation, for there could be no exnation.


    What good reason could there be to hold on, surrounded as they were, in the most pitiful of circumstances? What other cause could he demand that they fight for?


    There was one cause ¨C his cause. That was what he demanded. He took a sh at the chaos of the situation by reinforcing the familiar, the known, those bonds that had managed to lift them up over the impossible. Nothing had changed, they still had their leader, and they still had hismands that they needed to listen to.


    Like a startled child, caught in a mischievous act, the man hurried back to his feet nervously. He was forced to watch as his wife died before his eyes, murdered by his own vigers. But he was able to hold it together despite that ¨C for it was no murder, and it was no longer his wife. A strange emotion hit him ¨C guilt.


    He felt an instinctive guilt and embarrassment for even daring to despair. They were one body now, one unity. To leave before the others was tomit cowardice, to forget their cause. As the slightest flickerings of light managed to worm its way back into his heart, empowered by Beam''s leadership, his mind struggled to fill the gap, to give rise to an exnation for the emotion that he felt.


    His mind, his body, and his actions, they were all half disconnected. He was rising to his feet now, steady, and sure-footed. A wolf ready to hunt. But his eyes were looking at his wife''s body, the sharpness of her eyes, the gauntness of her face, and the blood spilt all over her dress.


    His mind acknowledged it as horrific. His heart wept it as a tragedy. His memories swam back to the joy that they had shared together, the children that they had raised together ¨C and there his mind finally found its meaning.


    A dull ache in his heart, supnted by an almost irrational fire, as though he was intoxicated by something foreign. Beam''s will infected him, just as Ingolsol''s tried to. He was a man caught between two opposing forces, vying for his will. One force he trusted, and the other he didn''t, so he rejected it.


    With that, for the moment, he was able to hold himself together. His conscious mind was able to stitch together a patchwork quilt, something weak and fragile to close the gap between his present moment and the future, to give him a reason to live, to reignite those survival instincts that had kept him alive until now.


    In the same way that adrenaline was capable of temporarily ignoring the physical pain of the present, the fervour of the moment, the fervour of the masses, the fervour of Beam''s leadership ¨C it granted him the temporary balm he needed in order to keep moving, despite having been ced onto the fields of hell.


    Where he arose, so too did the others.


    Another one of Ingolsol''s Cursed was in. Beam could hear the Dark Godining.


    "Unfortunate¡­ How unfortunate," he said. Beam could practically hear his head shaking as hemented his situation.


    He was not the only one. By the time thest of the Cursed had been in, and the vigers reorganized themselves as a pack, standing next to each other, with firm and unwavering hearts, unified as they had been just a short while ago, there was quite a malice developing in the air.


    The air was cold already ¨C cold enough for the few inches of snow that sat upon the ground ¨C but now it dropped to a considerably colder temperature, as the mage''s power leaked out of him, and his anger froze the air.


    "WORRRRRRRRRRRRRMS!" He hollowed in outrage, as though someone had just kicked over a sandcastle that he''d spent hours crafting.


    Beam allowed himself the smallest of smiles. His mind was exhausted as everyone else''s, having been put through such an amount of chaos, and having endured such an evolution. It was taking all that he had merely to keep his eyes open. But there was something about hearing thementations of one''s foe that inspired a smile, no matter the situation.


    "HOW DARE YOU?" The voice thundered.


    "HOW DARE YOU? HOW DARE YOU? HOW DAREEEEE YOU???"


    "LOOK AROUND YOU, INSECTS. I HAVE YOU SURROUNDED. YOU WILL ALL DIE THE MOST AGONISING OF DEATHS ¨C YOU HAVE NO CHANCE OF VICTORY," the mage shrieked, his voice shrill and feminine. "WHY DO YOU NOT DESPAIR?"

 Chapter 338: The Birth of a Leader - Part 14

    "WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY?" He shouted.


    As he shouted, he took a step forward, and so too did all the armies, on all sides. They took their steps, and all the monsters gave out eager cries, excited by the prospect of flesh.


    This sent a shiver through the vigers.


    "You''re afraid!" The mage said triumphantly.


    Yet there was no longer any sign of them breaking. The biggest surprises had already been ovee. They knew their fate now, they saw it right in front of them ¨C hell at the hands of a handsome man. There could be no bigger surprises than that.


    Now that the mage''s power no longer had an effect, now that he could notmand thempletely from a distance, he''d lost the hold he had on them, despite still having them inside his cage of monsters.


    That seemed important to the mage. More important than the fact that he would absolutely annihte them the moment he set his soldiers loose. The fact that the vigers did not give in to their despair, it irked him even more than it irked Ingolsol.


    In fact, the Dark God was no longer so opposed to the current state of affairs.


    "¡­Sweet suffering," he murmured, like a dog picking up a scent. His motivations weren''t exactly sophisticated, or so it seemed from what Beam knew of him. Anyone, or anything, it was their suffering that he desired, their despair. Whether it be a mage, or a viger, he indulged in it all.


    It seemed the stronger the enemy, the more he enjoyed supping on their despair. He was thoroughly malevolent through and through.


    "Despair," the mage said again. His words mirroring those of Ingolsol earlier.


    "Despair, despair, despair! Damn you all! Despair, and offer up your souls to his Lord! Why do you cling to your fragile bodies, have you not seen the power that despair grants you?"


    They had indeed seen it. With each second that had passed, the Cursed grew stronger, as though they were drinking in the energy around them, and turning it all into raw power. But it was more that they were feeding on who they once were, burning it all, corrupting it, and turning that into power instead.


    "You seem to be the one despairing," Beam noted. His voice had an edge to it. It was impossible not to hate the mage that was in front of him. Beam''s makeup was such that he was more than partial to such emotions. Both udia and Ingolsol dragged him towards such a state.


    udia with her righteous anger at seeing so many of the innocent so thoroughly abused, and Ingolsol for his eternal love of chaos and destruction.


    "YOU!" The mage shouted, as though noticing him for the first time. "AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH! YES! YES! YES! It was him¡­ Him.


    He said the words, he broke the Curse¡­ Why didn''t I see that? Am I growing blind? Is my own power darkening my vision? I used to be able to see things so clearly, so closely¡­. But now, in my godliness, I only see from afar. To have missed such an important detail¡­ mmm?" He trailed off.


    Beam was warned of his attack by the sudden spike in animosity.


    From across the battlefield, there came charging ance of ice.


    It ran through the air faster than any man could throw a javelin, at a speed that seemed nearly untrackable with the naked eye¡­ And at the same time, three others did too.


    One made contact with a house, and immediately tore its way straight through it.


    The sound of the house being torn to pieces was enough of a warning for the vigers to just barely fling themselves out of the way.


    With the vigers managing to escape it, Beam and the others were able tofortably get themselves out of the way, but not before the fournces of ice met each other where they had just been standing, and shattered in a powerful stream of icy shrapnel. A few of the soldiers were hit in the back by lumps of ice, but none of them were dealt fatal damage.


    "You¡­ You''re a mere worm too, hm? You and those two men next to you ¨C you have that stench of that whore. You''re treading on her path, are you? She that gives to only those she favours, and scorns everyone else? You would serve such a creature?" The mage spat his condemnation as a condescending air infected his tone.


    "That true Lord of Progress, have you not heard his name?" The mage asked. "Well? You? Boy? Will you not answer? Can you not answer?


    Will you say a whore''s name instead? Would you be so blind?"


    Beam frowned. "You''re a fairly mad bastard, aren''t you?"


    He heard Lombard tut beside him as he said those words. "Don''t rile a madman up¡­" he muttered under his breath.


    The mage heard both of them, and it was Lombard''s words that ended up irritating him the most. He gathered mana about his hand, prepared to unleash another storm of ice, this one even more powerful than thest¡­ but he stopped himself before then, containing his emotions, and in doing so, he allowed himself the satisfaction of a superior man.


    "Ah, I see. There are still those blinded by such things. You believe everything that you are told, do you? You believe the King fights in your interest? Do you truly think, if one could gain so much power merely by worshipping a whore, then he''d allow the peasants to ess such things?" The mage asked.


    "No? Of course he wouldn''t. The King is as power-hungry as the entirety of the nobility is. Greedy, greedy. Wanting to grab everything for themselves. Well, I''ve adopted that greed, just a little bit. Your next journey awaits at mvl


    Their disease became my disease ¨C I merely yed the game better! You cannot punish me for it. You three knights, with your petty little charms, your whore''s scent clinging to you, with your whore of a patron Goddess, only giving her blessings to the rich."


    "Three knights? Are you stupid as well as mad? There are only two knights here," Lombard shouted out. He''dpletely reversed his earlier attitude of not riling up the mad, something that Beam took note of with a questioning look. Lombard merely shrugged in response, without offering further exnation.

 Chapter 339: The Birth of a Leader - Part 15

    The temperature dropped by a few more degrees, but the mage merely offered a single strained smile, rather than a storm of ice, as he struggled to hold on to his calm. "I think not, worm. Your owncking skills of perception might deceive you, but my Lord''s nose does not lie to me. I can smell the scent of three of you."


    "Three of us there may be, but only two of us are knights. That goes contrary to the little story that you''ve crafted for yourself, does it not?" Lombard said. By now Beam could tell that he was purposefully being inmmatory, abandoning his usual nobleesque mannerisms in favour of merely riling the mage up. "Can you guess which of us it is?"


    The mage didn''t like that. Even from a mile away ¨C for that was literally how far away he was standing ¨C they could see he didn''t like it. Lombard''s word cut under his skin.


    "You lie. I smell it. I smell it! LIAR! LIAR! I SMELL IT!" The mage said, giving in to rage.


    "That whore only chooses the rich! She never chose me! She says hard work, she does! Who has worked harder? Not you, knight! Not you with your gold, and your bread, and your women!


    Not you! None have worked harder than I, yet the whore did not hear my prayers, she didn''t!"


    "The boy," Lombard interrupted. "A peasant. Worse than that ¨C an ex-ve. udia blessed him."


    "LIAAAAAAAAAR!" The mage roared, as he swung his hand, and another storm of icences came shooting in, this time three from each side, and this time far more dangerous than thest.


    Instead of puncturing through houses like it had before, theypletely steamrolled them, ttening everything in their path, less like watery ss and more like blue stone, they hit with all the weight of rocky pirs charging at a speed triple that of a horse.


    Again the vigers managed to dodge out the way, but this time they were unable to escape injury. The explosion of a nearby burning house caught a few of them, handing out bruises and burns, but no worse than that, for they were quickly freed from their situation by their fellow man.


    It was Beam''s party that had the worst of it, as the icences all came together, they created a powerful impact zone that was difficult to dodge. Knowing what they had from thest time, they were able to throw themselves further than before.


    Beam kept an eye out on N, expecting her to be too slow to escape the st, but she was able to nimbly roll out of the way like a rabbit through the underbrush. It was Judas and the soldiers that had the harder time. He had to kick one of them into the others, in order to free as many as he could from the st.


    Skidding into the snow, and cradling their heads, they were all showered in ice, as it rained upon them like stones. But again, none of them were injured. It was only Beam, who''d attempted to save the others, that bore the worst of the st.


    His already shredded shirt ¨C from all the battling that they''d done earlier ¨C once more found itself with a fresh slice through. That slice proved to be the final straw for the cloth, for it finally opened itself fully, baring his full back, with the rags of blue cloth hanging on either side like curtains.


    As they got back to their feet, Lombard noted the scars, and narrowed his eyes. He put a hand on Beam''s shoulder and spun him to face the mage.


    "Are those the marks of a knight, mage?" Lombard asked calmly. "I think you''ve deceived yourself. You''ve sold your soul for darkness and power, convincing yourself you were just. You were merelycking."


    "DECEPTION!" The mage howled. "I will not be convinced."


    "Which Dark God do you pray to that you would scorn deception?" Lombard asked.


    "Ingolsol," a single name, spoken calmly, enough to silence a room full of people. The darkest of all the dark gods. The most powerful, the most feared, the most hard to understand. One did not make light of prayers to him, especially if they were a knight.


    For the people of Solgrim, under the Elder''s leadership, it had been a different, more unusual matter ¨C but elsewhere in the world, that name was spoken with caution.


    The mage seemed to pick up on Lombard''s hesitancy. A hesitancy that had been ingrained in him since youth. He knew the power of the Gods. He knew to take them seriously. The man right in front of him was living proof of such a fact, as was his own strength inbat.


    "Does that name cower you?" The mage said, sounding delighted. "It should. Only the chosen, only the brave, only he will Ingolsol ept. He demands sacrifice, and in return for sacrifice, he grants a man power. I am evidence of that.


    I am evidence of the lies that these whore worshippers spew, keeping the feeble-minded popce in their shackles ¨C and I am that which opposes all that, and ims the crown as a result. Now, knight, go to despair, and go to the grave, as the seed beds for my ascension." Experience tales at mvl


    "Ah¡­ So that is what this is then?" Lombard asked. "You mean to offer up these vigers to Ingolsol as sacrifices? Is that the darkness that sits in the air? Is that meant to be his presence?"


    The mage smiled at that. The smile of a mathematician seeing one of his colleagues fail at a problem that he had solved ever so easily. The same superior smile that he was fond of wearing. "Oh, it''s far moreplicated than that, knight. You think yourself a clever man, but you have been caught like rats in my n from the start. The Yarmdon, the monsters, did you think it coincidence?


    No, no. These are the seeds of despair, the creation of chaos."


    "You mean to tell me that you predicted our victory?" Lombard asked. "Then why are you not aware of the boy? If you knew our victory, if you had seen it, then his presence should be meaningful to you."

 Chapter 340: The Will of Men, The Will of Gods - Part 1

    Beam noted the way Lombard was continually drawing attention his way, and he wasn''t quite sure whether he liked it or not. N was looking at the Captain suspiciously, with narrowed eyes, as if using him of something. Tolsey too looked ufortable.


    "A single boy with the slightest scent of a whore is of no consequence," the mage said dismissively. "With every moment that passes, your souls find themselves drained. Or had you not noticed? The Yarmdon''s death, or their life, their victory, or their defeat, it as of no matter to me. For his Lord, the taste of despair as these men fell ¨C that was the sweetness.


    And now that you have won¡­ I could not have prepared a more delicious offering. Ingolsol''s delight is unimaginable."


    "False. False. False," Beam heard his fragment of Ingolsol give his disagreement. "Carnage. Death. Carnage, death, despair!


    I need no souls, no power."


    But the mage did not seem to notice. He was quite content with himself by now, having assuaged his position mentally.


    "If you will not give in to despair now, then I had only need wait. With every moment that passes, you grow weaker, and the end product grows that much more desirable. Behold, the worth of a thoughtful man! The worth of a schemer! CLAUDIA! GODDESS OF WHORES, PURVEYOR OF LIES!


    LOOK DOWN UPON YOUR SERVANTS, AND DESPAIR! SEE THEM TREMBLE IN THEIR WEAKNESS, AND WATCH, AS INGOLSOL FEEDS UPON THEIR BONES!"


    He enhanced his voice with magic, and screamed his ferocity up at the heavens, his madness parting clouds, beyond the dome of darkness which he had erected.


    Two Gods heard the cry of that mage, as he called out their names, and tugged on the thread of divine will that connected him to each of them.


    Even as forsaken as he''d made himself, even after all he''d done, Francis Balor still was unable to sever that golden thread that connected him with udia, and with her assistant, who held that golden abacus, and totted up the results of a man''s progress, and attempted to predict his future.


    Her assistant heard the mage''s cry like a bird pecking on the window. She made a face, and gave a sigh, setting aside her papers for but a second.


    "Apologies, Goddess¡­ I''ll close the window," she said.


    "No, leave it," udia replied without looking up, gazing longingly into the pool of water that allowed her to see down into the mortal realm. "If you close it, how will I hear them?"


    "But you shouldn''t need to listen to this nder. A mortal has no way of knowing the battle you fight ¨C you need not listen to his criticisms¡ª"


    "And what of the others?" udia said, looking up. There was a strong resolve in her violet eyes. "Even him¡­ though he has given his soul to Ingolsol¡­ even for him, there is hope."


    udia cast her eyes on the whole. Ever kind-hearted, ever all-serving, she gave everyone a chance. In every moment, she did her best to watch. She did her best to listen, even as thousands called to her at once. Her methods were rather different to the one she called her enemy.


    It was only then, for the first time in thousands of years, that the two of them both watched the mortal realm with the utmost of attention.


    udia looked into her pool of the purest blue, whilst Ingolsol stared into arge goblet of wine, its red as dark as blood. None would be able to see the world through it apart from he ¨C but he insisted on it, for, as he always said, the world was tinged in red.


    He sat upon a throne of ck gold, lounging, with a cocky smile on his face, and his walls shrouded in darkness. udia was content to spend her days reclined by the pool, with no symbol of her rank, but for Ingolsol, such things were important, such things made up the order of the world, giving him the room to throw about true chaos.


    "And chaos is what this is all missing," Ingolsol said, his tonenguid, his voice deep, booming, and resounding.


    "Is this not exactly chaos?" His servant asked from by his throne. A scantily dressed demon, with horns, and silver hair, reminiscent of udia ¨C he liked that about her, that she looked like udia. It made him smile every time he saw her, knowing how disgusted that do-good goddess would be if she''d seen how he dressed her.


    "Oh, no, no,e on, Des ¨C that isn''t it at all. Have you not been peering into the same mortal realm for as long as I? Surely you''d have developed an artistry by now. Surely you know that such contrived chaos is not nearly enough to quench my thirst," Ingolsol said, his chin in his hand, as he berated his servant.


    "How am I meant to see, when you so rarely let me look?" Desebel said in reply, her head tilted off to the side.


    Ingolsol ignored her. He was thoroughly absorbed in watching the drama.


    "For someone who ims ack of artistry, you certainly seem interested," shemented.


    "Hm? Oh, how could I not be? Look at this! You''ve seen him, haven''t you? You can see udia''s fingerprints all over him ¨C and yet he bares my mark. Does that not delight you?" Ingolsol eximed, his smile was almost childish, though by his face you would have guessed he was at least thirty, and by his eyes, you would have gotten a sense of his timelessness.


    "He survived your curse, yes?" Desebel said, her tone disinterested.


    "Well, I wouldn''t say he survived it," Ingolsolughed. "Though he hassted longer than the others, admittedly. It''s ever so intriguing. It stirs the pot. After all these thousands of years, you wouldn''t have thought to stumble upon something so interesting, would you? The power I give people far eclipses that of udia, but those little wishes of hersst far longer. Stay connected via mvl


    We''ve never gotten to y properly before. Ever since I was banished here, I''ve barely been able to reach her¡­ But now, I''m quite sure I feel her touch."

 Chapter 341: The Will of Men, The Will of Gods - Part 2

    "So what now? Will you overpower him?" Desebel asked. "That would be quite the drama, do you not think?"


    "Would that I could," Ingolsol sighed, though he didn''t look too disheartened. "My will grows in him. The fragment he bears of me has been given a voice. It talks to him. I can hear it whisper. Simple words, maddening words, but they have an effect.


    I suppose I bettermend Francis for finally being useful, and granting the opportunity."


    "He''s probably going to die," Desebel pointed out. "Does that not ruin the game for you?"


    "If he dies, he dies. I will still have my moment. As he is now, his death would let me reach that princess, if only for a moment. Ah, how startled she will be. I can''t wait to see it," Ingolsol said,ughing heartily.


    "You still love her," Desebel noted.


    "Have I ever denied it?" Ingolsol asked.


    "No." Desebel said, as she looked away, ufortable, searching for a change in topic.


    "What of Francis? Will you reward him for the good work he''s done for you?" She asked.


    "Reward him?" The question made the God go silent for a moment, before he boomed hisughter. "Of course not. I''m not some dog toe when people prepare treats for me."


    "Then why did you give him power in the first ce?" Came the obvious question.


    Ingolsol merely shrugged. "I thought it would be amusing ¨C and it was. Anyone willing to do what he did to his own family¡­ his own lover¡­ mm, that must be a fellow madly craving power, would you not say?"


    Desebel sighed. "So petty."


    He grinned at that, and said nothing. It was as though the words delighted him. Silence returned once more, as he returned to watching the mortal realm, and Desebel did all she could to overhear him.


    "ANTS!" Came Francis'' cry again. He''d said the word several times over, as two of the most powerful Gods listened in on him, along with an entire vige full of people.


    Even with an army behind him, he could not contain his fury.


    They were not kneeling. None of them were. This was not how it was supposed to go. It was not what happened back then ¨C back when he''d first gotten his power.


    Back then, the conditions were different. His sacrifices gave so willingly in to despair that they begged that he kill them. And then Ingolsol had responded. The whole room had filled with a dark light. It was an incredible thing, a confusing thing ¨C for it was light of the darkest ck.


    One might argue that, being ck as it was, pitch ck, then it couldn''t have been light. It was merely an absence of light ¨C it was that which drank in light. It was darkness.


    Francis knew differently, for he''d been there, and he''d bathed in it. He''d felt the darkness swim over his skin. It had a shine to it. A shine that wasn''t seen with the eyes, but rather felt with the soul. Something that smelt of fear, that contained its ingredients, but wasn''t quite rted to it either.


    With it, he''d felt the presence of something powerful, he''d felt a cascading movement of power itself,ing from a seemingly bottomless source, and endless well. He''d known in that moment that such a well, such a being ¨C that was certainly the most powerful entity in the universe.


    And now, despite all his preparations, despite all his effort, he felt none of that.


    Of course, Ingolsol''s presence was there ¨C he felt it. He knew it. It made his bones ache, like an arthritic sensing poor weather. Ingolsol was here, and he was watching, as he was sure other Gods were. But none could peer through that shield of darkness other than he, his Lordship, Dark God of Despair, Ingolsol.


    Read exclusive adventures at mvl


    This wouldn''t be good enough for him, Francis knew there.


    He was a clever man. He''d always been a clever man. If something was not working, he would not lie to himself and insist that he was. He moved on a very particr set of facts ¨C a strange, and possibly mad worldview, for true, but a worldview that had afforded him as much power as he currently had, the power to have a whole vige burst into me with a single click of his fingers.


    And yet why did they not kneel? Why were they still standing there, cautiously, tensely, without even a backward step, as though they meant to fight him?


    What was that boy that they all insisted on shouldering forward, that they all kept ncing to, as though he was the centrepiece in some massive art gallery.


    He didn''t understand it. Francis was far from thews of society. He didn''t feel the same conformist gravities that afflicted them, so he was unable to tell what it was that made a man kneel, that made lovers fall in love, that made children choose their friends. He was a stranger to it all. He was a stranger to people in general.


    He could not see it, he could not understand it, and thus he raged against it.


    He clicked his fingers for what must have been the fifth time, and once more a barrage of icicles shot and that encampment.


    There were fifteen of them, and that was where those three knights were gathered. He still insisted on calling them knights in his head, for he knew the auras. He would not fall for their tricks in suggesting that the boy was no knight at all ¨C for none but a knight would give off the strong scent of udia''s love, of her blessing.


    He knew that, for he had sought such a thing. He was no peasant either ¨C he was a man of the Serving ss. He was an entirely different species to the mere peasantry. To suggest that a peasant could receive udia''s favour when all his efforts had failed, it was beyond insult, beyond lies, and pure, deafening folly.

 Chapter 342: The Will of Men, The Will of Gods - Part 3

    This time it was five icences from each side. They were bigger than thest, stronger. He struggled to contain his rage, and as such, more of his mana was leaking out. He had an endless stream of it, after all the preparation that he''d put in.


    To y ten thousand men, by his lonesome, within that ck dome, it would have been an easy feat. This was his Domain, after all. He''d never studied magic under a tutor, but he knew that term, and he''d learned to apply it, all in service to his Lord Ingolsol, and to the obtaining of further power.


    The vigers didn''t manage to escape thistest barrage.


    Ten of them died in the assault. The others cried out beside them, afflicted by the shrapnel. It was a mess of blood and bone. It was entirely against thews of nature that they had grown up ustomed to.


    For most of them, the fastest thing they had ever seen was a horse. Francis knew that, for before he had obtained magic himself, that was also the fastest thing that he had ever seen ¨C a horse.


    Now they were assaulted by a projectile twice a horse''s speed, and twice its weight, and tipped at one end to be as sharp as a spear. They should have felt like they were thrust into an aliennd, they should have been on the very precipice of despair¡­ They should have, and yet¡­ They weren''t.


    Even as more of them died, their hearts seemed unlikely to waver. It was as though this were a magic circle ¨C by Francis'' understanding ¨C and someone had offered up a sacrifice, a core, of such a magnitude, that its gravity simply couldn''t be ovee. It was unnatural, and to that end, revolting.


    Francis bit his lip in outrage, and criticized them.


    Enjoy exclusive chapters from mvl


    "Animals then, the lot of you," he said scathingly. "They call me mad in the city, for what I''ve done. ARE YOU NOT THE MAD ONES? To react nothing, in the face of your fellow man''s death? To im no fear, despite youring demise? ARE YOU NOT MAD?


    ARE YOU NOT BRAINWASHED? ARE YOU NOT VICTIMS OF SOME GOD OR SORCERY?"


    Yes. That was it. Francis felt he''d hit upon it. It must have been something along those lines. For no mere vige would hold strong against such an attack, not without darker forces at work, not without magic.


    He had a hint of realization¡­ Was it that Elder? Had he realized that Francis cared not for him? Had he set something up in advance to hinder him?


    "Bastard¡­" Francis murmured darkly, but the realization brought with it a hint of a smile. He''d known the Elder was getting close to discovering the secrets of mana, but he hadn''t realized just how close. He was suddenly feeling rather d to have been able to kill him when he did.


    ''Still, I suppose he was more useful than I could have imagined,'' he thought to himself idly, as his rage began to calm, and he looked at the problem in a different light.


    The Elder had managed some form of magical interference. Francis didn''t know what. The field of magic was a vast thing, each power that a person possessed as iprehensible as thest. It could be that the Elder had awakened to a different power than he ¨C perhaps he had the power to control minds, to manipte emotions.


    That reasoning would make sense. The unwarranted moral that the vigers had. The resilience despite the circumstance¡­ But then, to cast such a spell over so many people, he would have required an immense amount of mana. He could not have done that without a full awakening¡­


    A frown came again. There were too many inconsistencies. What of the despair that he saw forecast earlier? It had all been going swimmingly then. They''d given themselves to it, and they had fed Ingolsol as a result. If it had kept going like that, to have sacrificed three hundred people for the purest, most delectable despair, Francis had no doubt that Ingolsol would have given him a second blessing.


    His first blessing from the Dark God had put him on par with knights of the Fourth Boundary, or so Francis reasoned, given the powers that he felt from them. Inside his own Domain, he was even more powerful than that.


    And inside this Domain that he had spent months preparing, using hundreds of his subordinates, and thousands of monsters, and the cooperation of that vige Elder¡­ He was even stronger than that. His power likely eclipsed even the Sixth Boundary.


    That was not enough for Francis, however.


    He could indeed tten the whole vige as though it was a fly in his hand, he could make a whole army burst into a bloody storm if they attacked him there and then¡­ But it was only there and then. It wasn''t what he wanted. What he wanted were the reins that held Stormfront itself. He wanted the throne, and he wanted a country worthy of his power and his intellect.


    One more sacrifice, that was all he needed to reach that state, or so he predicted, given Ingolsol''s receptivity to hisst. He''d only killed a handful of people then ¨C granted, they had been members of his family. He knew such a thing would hold weight.


    That was why he went above and beyond preparing such a grand stage, subtly guiding the Yarmdon towards where theyy, creating a hundred different little stages of tragedy with the kidnapping of the children, and the monsters¡­


    And it was all meant to be for a grand fire, a grand explosion, a beautiful symphony of suffering.


    But those notes failed to y, despite his efforts, and with every instance that he gave way to anger, he was losing precious sacrifices. Those three knights too ¨C they were even more precious than the others. The breaking of their souls would surely please Ingolsol far more than the others. But how?


    He could kill them, and they would die.

 Chapter 343: The Will of Men, The Will of Gods - Part 4

    He had monsters to the left of him, and to the right, their breath fogging in the cold air, and their spittle flowing freely down their chins, as they pawed at the earth impatiently, twisting and turning against the invisiblemand bindings that held them in ce.


    He had his followers as well. Men and women with souls as ck as his, as craving in power as he was. He''d promised to teach them the secrets of magic. In the meantime, they made rather effective tools. Their swords glowed in the green fire that Francis had made his calling card, ever since he set his mother''s head upon a stick, and lit it with the power that Ingolsol had given him.


    Enjoy new stories from §Þ??


    "You''ve grown silent, mage," Lombard said. "This standoff makes me ufortable. Could it be that you''ve given way to cowardice? Has some shred of sanity shone its light through your broken mind? Surrender, then, and you have my word as a Knight of Stormfront that your death will be quick and painless."


    "Painless?" Beam repeated, quietly, but Francis heard it. He saw the hunger in his eyes, a hatred.


    "Strange eyes¡­" Francis noted. He held up his palm, out of curiosity, and a tendril of vines erupted from it.


    Within the span of half a second, those vines erupted into a giant tree ¨C the most giant of all trees. Though, this tree was on its side, and it was moving as twisting like the limb of an octopus, as its branches wound around itself,pressing itself into something singr, and grasping for a single target.


    Beam''s sword was free of his scabbard before the tree hit him. He shed at it, as though it was flesh. His de bit in for half an inch, and then stopped, as Francis'' tree limb grew around it, as smoothly as liquid, rooting itself in ce.


    The vines began to extend up Beam''s forearm, and then around his shoulder, and then around his waist. Half a second more, and he was lifted off his feet, his body given speed, as the vines began to retract at an incredible rate.


    An arrow came at Francis from the corner of his vision. He noted it with an annoyed tut, and carefully stepped out of the way of it. He looked at the girl who had shot it, and gave her a look of distance. When he turned his attention back to Beam, the tree limb that he had extended from his arm was already falling into ash. Magic required a great deal of concentration, after all.


    As the magic disappeared, Beam was dropped with it. He was not especially high up ¨C it was the speed that he''d been travelling at that was more of a problem. Hended with a thud in the snow, and then went skidding for a dozen yards, before the snow finally pilled up enough to slow him fully.


    Francis didn''t find himself feeling particrly irritated by the disintegration of his spell. In fact, he was rather pleased with the results.


    Half of the joy of all the preparation that he''d put in was this intense magnifying of his power. Extending a tree like that for over half a mile was something he could never have hoped to do, had he not set up such a powerful magic circle, and littered it with fitting sacrifices.


    Seeing the boy ¨C or knight, as Francis thought him to be ¨C crumble like that in the snow, he was struck by the sudden desire to merely torture all three of the knights like that.


    Why not, after all? As long as they retained the slightest fragment of vitality, they''d continue to live. It would give him something to do, while he focused on breaking the rest of them.


    But his armies were growing restless, all four of them. The other three versions of him, his shadows, they were rather restless as well.


    They attempted to cast the same spell that he had, but the mana burden appeared to be too much for them. They couldn''t handle anything more mana-hungry than a few icences, or so it seemed. Francis noted that. He was not the only one.


    "The real one is the Eastern one," Lombard said quietly. "Now we know."


    "And what can we do with that information?" Tolsey found himself asking in a hoarse voice.


    Lombard looked at his Vice-Captain. He looked as bad as Lombard felt. He wanted to offer him a n, but he could do nothing more than keep his expression as stony-faced as it usually was. Even that was growing difficult by now.


    Slowly, Beam rose up from the snow, with a fresh trail of blood running from the side of his face. Unlike Lombard, his face was not stony. His anger was unmistakable. An anger that he had not even managed to summon up for the Yarmdon, it wracked every fibre of his being.


    Francis looked up from his thinking, sensing a change in the air. Finally, something had evoked the attention of Ingolsol. There was an increase in Darkness. He held up his hands in joy. "Lord Ingolsol! You reveal yourself!


    Please, eat until your heart''s content, these sacrifices are yours. If you would make them dance before I can tug their strings, then by all means, allow yourself it."


    His hope, with as dense a Domain of Darkness as Francis had managed to create, was to offer Ingolsol the chance to manifest himself as a physical entity.


    He''d read in a tome ¨C he''d done a lot of readingtely, from old and dark tomes ¨C that there had been several asions of Ingolsol manifesting himself ¨C or at least a fragment of himself ¨C when there were particrly severe cases of the Cursed.


    Some Cursed managed tost years undetected, their powers steadily increasing all the while. They''d hunt in the night, likemon murderers, but with each life that they took, their powers grew, and in turn, they lost more and more of their sanity.


    With such reading, Francis had formed a hypothesis that, if the density of Despair was dense enough, then the Dark Lord might choose to manifest himself. He''d assumed such a thing to be desirable to Ingolsol.

 Chapter 344: The Will of Men, The Will of Gods - Part 5

    He searched for Ingolsol''s aura, to see where it had been concentrating, to find that point in which the despair was thick enough so that he could attempt to manifest himself¡­ and his eyes were drawn to an angry-looking boy, his eyes swimming with shards of gold and purple.


    "Lord?" Francis asked on instinct. For a second, he thought that the boy had been possessed.


    "If I were your Lord, I would have you skinned," Beam said. He''d never uttered such ck words before. He''d never physically wished to torture a man to deal, to tear his fingernails from his fingers, and to gauge out his eyes in a slow disy of mercilessness. But with Francis, it was different. He could feel it so strongly ¨C that thing that drove Francis. He understood it.


    And it infuriated him.


    Francis drew back his head in reproach, his eyes widening, madness flickering in them, as he shook his head to and fro, as if to deny a vicious reality. "No no no no no. What foul trick is this? What scent have you smeared yourself in, you deceptive defiler? What manner of sin have youmitted."


    There were only fifty metres between the two of them now. Such a distance ¨C though much closer than before ¨C and yet it was like they were breathing down each other''s necks. Beam could almost feel the man''s breath on his face. He saw that pale, porcin skin, that long, sleek ck hair and that perfectly framed face. All that handsomeness, tinged entirely with insanity.


    And in him, Francis could see something as well. Different from the Cursed, he felt Ingolsol''s mark, as though he''d scratched his ws down his prey''s back, to mark it as his own, so that he might save it forter.


    The Dark God of Despair, the Fallen God of Power ¨C he did not leave anything forter. Francis knew that better than anyone. He was an intelligent man, and an intellectual man. He''d studied the arts and the sciences with far more vigour than even the most noble of nobles.


    He''d wrestled with concepts that even sages struggled with, and he''d managed to find insight in them, an insight that no other could find.


    Those insights were not understood, however. They never were, despite their profundity, despite the effort he had put into seeking them out, he found that his social station only fell. He was a man that new study, and he thought he knew hard work, and progress ¨C he''d hailed udia for every new idea that he found, every new discovery that he''d made.


    Continue reading on §Þ??


    Yet it wasn''t until he''d studied Ingolsol, and all that the Dark God entailed¡­ Only then, when he dusted off the books marked as forbidden, only then did his knowledge begin to shape his life. Only then could it interact with the reality around him, and improve it. If Ingolsol were a subject of academia, then no one was as well read on the matter as Francis.


    It puzzled him, it irked him, and more than anything, it annoyed him. He didn''t understand it. What manner of curse had the boy been saddled with? What was Ingolsol''s interest in him?


    Beam was stood at a half-crouch, with his sword ready and his eyes narrowed. He dared to take a step in the snow. When Francis did not move in response, he dared to take another.


    Standing by himself as he was, a few paces in front of his giant army, Francis looked ever-so vulnerable.


    His robes were more dark purple than pure ck. With his handsome features, when he remained still, you could easily mistake him for nobility. But the second he moved, that illusion was shattered. Everything was stiff, and robotic, tinged by erratess.


    He move his neck like a startled bird, fixing Beam with the most attentive eyes, as though seeing him for the first time, but also without truly seeing him at all.


    The mage ran through several possible theories in his head, as his confusion reached a fervour pitch. Anything that he could use to exin what he saw in front of him, he clung to.


    "This¡­ This¡­ Is that old man''s doing?" Francis asked himself. If the Elder had managed to seed in his study of mana, as Francis had assumed earlier, then a curse on the boy might not be out of his reach¡­ But it was less a curse, and more a dark shadow, like the threat of a boulder falling from the sky.


    Step by step, Beam closed the distance, as Francis pondered. He did not know what was going through the mage''s mind to allow him to get so close, with his sword drawn, and his intentions clearly written on his face. The others watched, from their distance, over a mile away.


    "What''s going on?" Judas asked. "Why''s that mage letting him get so close? He''s underestimating the boy, ain''t he? He''ll take off his head if he gets a few steps closer."


    "He''s mad to the core," Lombard noted. "¡­But I do not think him to be foolish, perse. It''s possible he merely doesn''t acknowledge Beam as a threat."


    "Should we not go and support him?" N asked, anxiously. She was well aware that she couldn''t hope to cover such a distance with his bow. Whilst strong, she wasn''t nearly strong enough to draw a war bow ¨C her bow was good for a couple of hundred feet, at most.


    "I think it''s safe to assume that if he wanted us dead, he would have killed us already," Lombard said with his usual calmness, though it did little to hide the tiredness that was written on his face. "But that''s not to say he doesn''t want us dead eventually, for he''s been quite content to kill the vigers along the way. No, his goal is more obvious than that.


    For such a man so deep into insanity, his motives are clear. He wants to see us despair, for the sake of his God, and for the sake of power."


    "Then, our fate is to be tortured to death," Greeves said grimly. He made his way to join themander''s group in between the bouts of chaos. Loriel''s death was heavy on his mind, but living was even heavier, and with every fresh icicle storm that came charging across the ins, his eyes were drawn back towards his house, which as of yet, had narrowly managed to avoid getting hit.

 Chapter 345: The Will of Men, The Will of Gods - Part 6

    Lombard nced at him, as though only just noticing his arrival. The Captain said nothing about his presence there. The single look that they shared said all that it needed to. For a time, Greeves'' captivity had proved useful to Lombard, and now, the opposite was true. "¡­I do not think our future to be so bleak."


    Tolsey looked up at him. He hadn''t given voice to the words yet, for he didn''t feel he was allowed to, but now that Lombard had brought it up himself, he dared to ask. "The boy''s master?"


    The Captain nodded in response. "Given enough time, I do not doubt he will show his face¡­ But, I suppose, he has never been one for timeliness."


    He felt a hint of guilt saying such words, as he realized how unfair they were. To say that Dominus'' timing was poor, because he arrived to the battle with the Pandora Goblin long after Arthur was in¡­ It didn''t quite tell the whole story. As a knight, Dominus was far more conscientious than that.


    "He''ll help us?" Greeves said, in a rasping voice. Both Judas and he had met him, as had N. Lombard could tell such a fact by their eyes, and how they reacted to the news. It was realization, rather than wonder. "I would have thought he''d have joined in earlier, had he had a mind to."


    This time, when Lombard spared Greeves a look, he did so with considerable coldness. "Imagine a man so vastly beyond yourprehension, that every oue you wrestle your way towards, he knows long in advance. That boy''s master is such a man.


    You do not know his name, and I have been forbidden to tell it, but there lives a man in these ck Mountains that would cause half the King''s Court to tremble in fear if they knew he was still alive. That boy that you bow to ¨C he calls that man Master."


    "I wouldn''t say I bow to him¡ª" Greeves began out of habit. He had to bite his tongue to stop himself. He looked away, already aware that in doing so, there came a hint of self-admittance. He found himself hating that fact.


    "The boy will do well for himself," Lombard said quietly, causing Tolsey to look up sharply ¨C it was rare that the Captain praised anyone. "He has aplished deeds today that show a talent deeper than with his sword. He has a glimmer of that which the Great Generals of the past had. To lead a soldier is one thing, to lead an untrained man and turn him into a soldier is quite another.


    His master''s eyes saw this, or they sensed it. If he survives here today, a great man will be birthed from the ashes.


    Greeves was quiet. Lombard turned to speak to him.


    "A whole vige of people has sensed it in him, merchant. You are not the only one. It leaks out of him. He cannot contain it. Should that boy be allowed to live, should the chains that limit him be cut away one by one, he will leave a mark on thisnd that the sage''sbel ''greatness.'' I find myself willing to die for that reason, as do all of you," Lombard said.


    "If he lives, we all live, for eternity, within the deeds of his, respoken far into the bowels of the future," Lombard said. As he spoke, none was more stunned than Tolsey. Lombard noted the look. "Do not look at me like that, boy," he said. It was the first time in a while he had called Tolsey ''boy'', but this time he did it with a weary smile. "In everything we do, we all betray the same intention.


    Do you think me so different?"


    His soldiers were looking at him too. Hard soldiers, soldiers that had fought by his side for many years, and soldiers that had endured that bloody battle with the Yarmdon. They were each terrifying men in their own right, to have lived through that. Their Captain''s words tore them away from the site of Beam slowly creeping his way towards the frozen mage.


    "Do you not see a man rx when he has his first child? True, he moves forward with a different purpose, just as eagerly, but there''s no longer the same anxiousness in his eyes. His name is continued. The soldiery are the same. We fight for a cause, or at least, we used to. In that cause we write our names.


    In that cause today we find a simpler answer. Only one of us needs to live ¨C and that''s him," he pointed with a finger, just as Beam leapt, closing the final gap between himself and Francis.


    Francis acknowledged him with an icy look, before releasing the binding on ten of his monsters: two Hobgoblins, a Half-Titan, three Konbreaker and five Gorebeasts.


    Beam''s sword bounced off an invisible wall. He felt as though he''d struck a rock. The recoil made his elbow ache. He fell to the floor, and the monsters rushed to his location eagerly, the Gorebeasts far faster than the rest, hungry for potent flesh.


    He was on his feet a momentter, his sword swung, and he drew blood ¨C more than blood, with a single sh, he severed two of the Gorebeast''s limbs. It felt as though he was cutting through straw. After the harsh battle against the elite Yarmdon, to have all those shields in his way, and all that strength holding them up, to once more be relegated to mere Gorebeasts¡­ It felt too easy.


    Discover stories at §Þ??


    Within the span of a few short seconds, three Gorebeasts were dead.


    With them, three Gorebeasts disappeared from the three other armies that surrounded the vige. Everso slightly, their opposition dropped.


    The vigers were watching Beam''s approach even more carefully than themanders. In madness, and in hell, Beam had be their core ¨C he''d be the most important thing in the world to them, as everything else clouded over with despair, they found themselves cheering.

 Chapter 346: The Will of Men, The Will of Gods - Part 7

    It was far too loud a cheer for the victory that had been achieved ¨C it was a mere three Gorebeasts, after all, out of an army of a hundred of the things, or even four hundred, if those monsters on the other side were to be more than an illusion. But they cheered anyway.


    They cheered like starving men, finding their first scrap of food after over a week of empty. They cheered like blind men that caught their first hint of the light, like they''d arisen from the deep underground after days without fresh air.


    They''d reached the depths of despair, without despairing.


    They''d lost everything, without losing it all.


    Every tiny victory was magnified tenfold, or even a hundredfold, for their was an absence of everything else. It was purely void that they''d been dropped into. This mage, a click of his fingers, and they might explode. They couldn''t think of tomorrow, they couldn''t even think of a minute into the future.


    Francis had done his best to take everything from them, and in not breaking, and just being given the slightest bit back, it was as though it contained all the meaning in the world.


    "You see it, don''t you?" Lombard said. "That is him."


    He pointed, and they saw.


    There he was, embroiled inbat. Three Gorebeasts were dead, and he was already moving on to the next of them.


    His sword sliced through the fourth Gorebeast with such force, it was like it had been hit by a hammer, rather than a sword. There was fury on his face, evident with every strike. When many men would have given into despair in his shoes, it was that fury that he put forth, steeping his limbs in a fire.


    His mind had grown as quiet as it had hours before. That was its natural state by now. It had to do everything with the grimmest efficiency, lest that small trickle of energy that he had left get wasted. In truth, he''d burned through his stamina long before. It was merely grit keeping him on his feet.


    "He doesn''t need a reason to fight," Lombard pointed. "He is that reason. His cause eclipses ours. There''s few like him. There''s few men who would swing and struggle without reason. I''ve only met a handful of men like that, and none wielded his talent."


    Another Gorebeast dead, brutal efficiency, and he was onto a Hobgoblin now. His sword ran up its forearm, splitting apart the muscle, andnded a shallow sh on its head. A Konbreaker came trampling in from the side now, seeking to take advantage of the chaos, but Beam was on it too, a momentter, offering it a deep sh on its hard arms.


    It hissed at him in reply, and dared to take a step back, despite the space that such a thing left open.


    With that opening, the first of the Hobgoblins fell, added to the mound of corpses, as though they were ying cards being thrown onto a table, rather than the most fearsome monsters the vige of Solgrim had ever seen. Continue reading at §Þ??


    The mage watched Beam''s tenacity with surprise in his eyes. He felt that aura. That aura of darkness pouring out from him. He was not a stupid man, Francis. A dangerous man, for certain. A mad man ¨C in many people''s eyes.


    But none could ever call him stupid. If something did not work, if something went ording to his expectations, even if it meant tearing out long-standing presuppositions, he was willing to do it.


    Like Jok, he was content to sacrifice his very reality for power. Even to a greater degree ¨C Francis was willing to sacrifice his soul.


    He sensed Ingolsol in the boy. He could feel the aura of darkness. He''d set up his dome expressly for this purpose, so that the Dark Lord could manifest himself, and make his will known, but to have it concentrated here, in that boy, it was far outside his expectations.


    Francis'' eyes struggled to track Beam''s movements.


    His magic had given him power, but they had not trained him inbat. His magic had not even been achieved by the traditional route. It was his research into Ingolsol that gave him ess to it. For that reason, though he could summon up floods, great storms of ice, and rageful fires, he was still nearly as weak as a normal man without it.


    He had nopetence with the sword, no ability to track things with his eyes¡­ What a swordsman did with his de, it very well might have been a different sort of magic to Francis.


    "Why..?" He found himself murmuring. "Why, why why why?" His frantic thoughts ¨C thoughts that were normally kept quiet ¨C were spoken aloud. The strange social habits that he''d picked up, after years of single-minded pursuit, they only served to entuate his madness.


    He grasped at his hair in desperation, pulling a thick clump out, a long with a matting of blood. It was an erratic image, a disturbing image, but his mind was still efficient, calcting, like a well-oiled machine, putting it all together.


    Ingolsol chose no favourites. He didn''t. No. It was only Francis that had been given favour by him. Francis and a few others in the past, all of them dark and terrible people. Ingolsol never manifest himself quietly.


    If he was there, blood ensued, alongside suffering and despair.


    There was no basis for what he saw in front of him, what he sensed. He sensed auras even more finely than a knight. This was his area, after all ¨C the study of mana. His conception of power had quickly blended with his conception of mana. To him, they were one and the same. They were the lens to the sses through which he saw the world.


    Both udia, and Ingolsol, in a single boy, they both staked their im.


    "Why why why why why?"


    He was studied in the sciences, he was studied in mathematics. They''d offered him fruit, for a time, before he''d hit a wall. He used them as tools of understanding, as he delved into the arcane. That unique mind that couldn''t find its ce in society, not without a good amount of moulding, it had quickly been able to ovee the secrets of darkness. To close the gap between logic and the ult.


    A nuanced thought process, that united the natural and the supernatural.

 Chapter 347: The Will of Men, The Will of Gods - Part 8

    Two Gods, in a single body. Two weighty stones on a single lever, with the pivot being the will of the individual. His erratic motions calmed at that, as his thoughts overcame the initial resistance, and understanding flowed out as the result of the conclusion.


    Another Hobgoblin found itself beheaded.


    "Disturbing strength," Francis noted. He sounded frighteningly sane, as his hands fell away from his head, and he studied what was in front of him. "The aura of udia would indicate the Second Boundary, but the strength to ovee my minions¡­ He''s eclipsed that."


    Francis had killed more than a few knights, and more than a few priests. He knew the secrets of the Boundaries. Their discovery furthered his own quest for power.


    "A seesaw then¡­ The Curse of Despair, weighed against that wench''s favor? Two opposites, existing together in equal amounts. But then, the result should be weaker, not stronger¡­"


    "How is he..? Mm? Unless his soul subordinated thempletely¡­. They''d be snarling at each other like angry dogs," Francis noted, his eyes calcting. What he saw were unfathomable depths, unfathomable power, limited purely by a singr soul.


    All the darkness flowed towards him, and he showed no hint of weakening under its strain. His eyes showed a strong purple. From the murals Francis had found of Ingolsol in forgotten crypts, he knew that purple to be Ingolsol''s eyes. Even more than Dominus, he understood the weight of the strain that Ingolsol could inflict on a mortal''s body.


    For a moment, as he processed such things, his logical mind produced an emotion he had not felt in a long time: a hint of respect.


    And then his sanity began to dwindle once more, as the problem was solved. The world once more darkened at its edges, tinged by the narrow light in which he saws things now. His own world was permanently stained in purple, as though someone held a lens permanently over his eyes. He saw things far differently than he once did.


    Everything had a set of veins, even the air, as it recorded the flow of mana.


    With his dwindling sanity, there came that burning hatred that dominated his waking life. He saw power in front of him, and now he didn''t like it. He saw the source of his failed n ¨C that boy, somehow, acted as a sinkhole for all that Ingolsol was. He limited the despair his domain produced, by absorbing a good chunk of it himself.


    His sword danced with an edge of darkness, and a shadow clung to his shoulders.


    Another Hobgoblin fell, and then another Konbreaker. Easily, effortlessly. Beam felt the hatred burning in him, just as strongly as it was in Francis. He found himself hating that mage for all he''d done, and all he attempted to do.


    Francis knew what he had to do now. It was the boy that needed breaking. He needed to crush his soul, remove the bnce, and free Ingolsol from his cage. He pointed a palm towards Beam, and began to gather mana.


    With his mana, there set forth the Half-Titan, vicious and bloodthirsty, angry from the easy deaths of many of itsrades.


    It swung at Beam with its lengthy arms, racking at him with its shining ws. He dodged the blow with a quiet motion, and struck by strongly, drawing blood at his wrist. It was as though every move he made had a purpose. As though he could do no wrong, as though every attack would find its home.


    As Beam fought, he felt a sudden rush of heat at his side. He nced over his shoulder at the mage. He''d known he was about to do something, but he had no ability to sense magic, only danger ¨C and this magic was quiet, in the same way that a campfire was quiet. It crept at him with a sudden subtly. It was only the rush of heat that warned him of it, and by then, it was nearly toote.


    A hard shoulder knocked him out of the way when he reacted toote.


    Judas took the mes in his ce, hunched up, pulling his head into his chest, as the mes flickered yellow and orange around him, heating up his armour for a moment, before they disappeared. His undergarments set alight, and he dove into the snow with a considerableck of grace, followed by a sigh of relief, as he felt the heat immediately begin to fade.


    The stout bodyguard was not alone either. Beam hadn''t heard their approach, for he''d been so focused on the enemy in front of him, but they were all already there.


    There was N, with her bow drawn, loosing an arrow at the Half-Titan as she skidded to a halt in the snow, and then there was Lombard, falling into a fighting stance, with Tolsey at his side, and Greeves and the soldiers trailing behind them.


    Just behind the leaders, there came an army of vigers storming their way as well. The instant Beam had been captured, it was set in stone that they''d help him. Unintentionally, the boy had found himself at the centre of it all.


    With their arrival, and the widening of his eyes, Beam felt the hatred in his heart fade to something more manageable. The gold circles in his eyes didn''t glow nearly as brightly as before. Slowly but surely, he found himself calming, and with it, growing increasingly powerful.


    Francis watched. The process did not escape his astute eyes. Even as more of Ingolsol''s energy poured into the Domain, Beam''s control over it only grew. The cowl of darkness that Francis had seen growing up around his shoulder, that faded too, at least from sight, but the energy of it didn''t fade.


    If anything, it seemed to grow, though the darkness of it was dulled, as it bonded with something else and grew stronger for it.


    "Irritating¡­ Annoying¡­ sphemous¡­" Francis muttered to himself. The vigers could not see what he could see. They could not understand what he felt. They could not see the darkness that had clung to Beam like a bad smell, nor could they see the lines of power that Francis had drawn up, and how they ran towards his Dark Domain, filling it with ever more potential.


    So much time had been spent on it. So much time, so much agony, so much research. Even now, the Domain continued to grow, though such a thing was only truly visible from the outside.

 Chapter 348: The Will of Men, The Will of Gods - Part 9

    It drank up trees, and summoned up monsters, enriching thendscape in despair. It drank it all in, all that life, all that potential, and then it offered all of it to Ingolsol¡­ Only for it in turn to all get drawn towards Beam.


    He did not understand how it had happened, Francis did not. For there was no precedent set for such things. No historical records. Man was not made to resist the will of the Gods. But such a thing was happening in front of him, and he was not one to deny reality, not when it stood in the way of his ns.


    He knew the intentions of his Dark Lord better than anyone. The realization of such a thing brought a gleeful smile to his lips.


    "Of course¡­ Of course¡­ I had merely need pop him like a balloon," he said. "And then Ingolsol wille pouring down, manifested more purely than he ever has been in history."


    He sang to himself, as he stumbled upon another realization. What had seemed just moments before like a terrible stretch of unfortunateness, now it seemed to be the height of luck. Even if he''d tried, he''d never have been able to contain the Dark energy so densely. Not to the degree it was now, inside Beam''s body, as it continued to go there.


    At best, it would have been like the smoke off a burning house, but now they had the potential for much more, far beyond what he had expected before.


    There was the stench of udia on him too ¨C the boy was living proof that the two could be bound together. udia''s essence could be made into Ingolsol''s. That there was a discovery worth ten years of research. If Francis had known such a thing, he would have attacked the Academy five years earlier ¨C he never would have waited.


    He would have seized the weakest of the newly blessed nights and torn their power away from him.


    His grin broadened as the vigers drew closer. He made a motion with his finger, as he loosened the hold on all of his armies. At once, there was a tremor, like a dragon had just pped its wings overhead. The mortal men in front of him felt their knees buckle, buffeted by an unknown wind. And then they heard a roar, as monsters from all across the Domain began the charge towards them.


    The charge came just as Beam''s sword found the neck of the Half-Titan. With every monster that slew, he saw them disappear from the ranks of the other armies. He thought that to be their weakness, obvious proof that they were nothing more than mere illusions, but now he saw the truth of it.


    The trembling of the earth as the monsters charged showed him that they were no more apportions, no mere illusions. Gorebeasts came thundering at a pace, ahead of the rest, crashing into houses, and sending rubble flying. They were interacting with the physical realm easily enough, just as strong as the other monsters that Beam had already in.


    Lombard noticed it at the same time as he did. "Magic," he muttered. "The greater its weakness, the greater its strength. We kill this lot in front of us, and all the other armies would fade away as well. But until then, we''ve got four times the amount."


    Beam nodded in agreement. He''d already managed to kill ten of the worst monsters, but now the rest of the pack had been unbound, and they came forward, closing the short distance between them in a matter of moments. That short interaction that he''d shared with Lombard was all the time he had before the first wave of them hit ¨C a smattering of speedy Gorebeast, and arrows from the Horned Goblins.


    Almost immediately, he heard the cries of the vigers, the crunch of bone, and the tear of flesh.


    In the next moment, there was a Gorebeast lunging toward his neck, its jaws open wide enough to swallow his entire head, and most of his shoulders with it. He ducked, and cut open its belly, holding a hand over his eyes to avoid the spray of blood as it continued to fly overhead.


    When it hit the floor, and he was able to open his eyes once more, he was able to see just what a state their front line was in.


    They hadn''t been organized at all, not from the start. Ever since the Yarmdon attack, they had been nothing more than a rabble. None of them had the tools to confront magic with a n immediately, especially not the tools to counter a mage like Francis, who''d spent so much timeying such an extensive trap.


    In truth, still none of them knew the full extent of the situation they were in. It was as though they''d shifted to another world entirely, underpletely newws. Of course, such things were intended ¨C it was meant to be shocking, it was meant to be a dramatic shift. It was meant to break them.


    But it didn''t manage to. Not yet. It didn''t manage to snatch at those spirits that it sought, to fuel the summoning of the Lord of Despair. It had failed in that, but seededpletely in everything else.


    They were tossed about like a tiny ship on a stormy sea. The chaos of the situation was unfathomable. Even now, not a single one of them held a coherent goal in their minds. There was nothing obvious for them to do, aside from kill that which was in front of them.


    There was nothing obvious they should be doing ¨C yet they were here. They were by his side. They weren''t warriors, but now it was as though they clung to that warrior honour. Old men, young women, farmhands and shepherds and bakers ¨C not a single one of them was without blood. As the monsters tore into them, the fire in their eyes did not fade.


    Beam didn''t understand it. He didn''t understand them, he didn''t understand himself. He only understood the need for violence. He couldn''t see where victoryy. They were at the bottom of a murky swamp. They were truly in a demon''s domain.


    It seemed to be that the only choice on the cards for them was to die ¨C that seemed to be the only eventuality. Another thirty seconds, and those other three armies would be near them, and they''d buckle and shatter like a tiny ss house.

 Chapter 349: The Will of Men, The Will of Gods - Part 10

    ''What can I do?'' Beam found himself asking. It was not a conscious thought. It didn''t reach into his mind. He was far too upied withment. He was deep in the bloody mud with the rest of them. He couldn''t allow his thoughts to slow for even a second, lest he leave their weaker brethren stranded.


    N was only a few steps behind him, her arrows growing scarce in her quiver, as he loosened one after the other, her eyes wild and crazed.


    The soldiers were fighting with equal valour, stabbing, and stabbing and stabbing. Greeves was next to them, shing more at empty air than at flesh, but there was a desperation to his movements that bordered on madness. It was as though they were all mad. Every single one of them ¨C they were swimming in Francis'' sea, breathing his air and drinking his water.


    His insanity infected them like a gaseous poison.


    Beam reached for an answer to his question with his entire being. His mind could not spare the energy to search for it, so other parts did instead. Another Gorebeast fell to him. He gutted it so quickly that there was a pause before gravity took hold and the blood spilt.


    Lombard was matching him by his side, ying the faster enemies with the same reckless ferocity that he was. The corpses were mounting up at their feet. But at the same time, the vigers were weakening, the monsters found purchase there, and they set to work with greed, tearing everything in front of them to a thousand pieces.


    "What do I do?" It was a question on his lips now, one that he didn''t know he''d asked, for he couldn''t think it. It was the same type of thing that Francis might have done, as he puzzled through his ownplicated reality. "What even is this? What do I do?"


    There was power in his arms, power in his legs. A strange power, like a drug. He could feel the tiredness in him, that overwhelming exhaustion, it was ever present, but for a while now, a sweetness like honey had overpowered it. The same sweetness that hatred brought and anger, that rush to the head, that sudden strength, that burst of energy.


    But it was stickier than anger, not as sudden. If anger was an explosion, this was more of a fire, liable to burn more slowly.


    That will that he had felt hours before, as he found himself thick in Yarmdon soldiers, alone and surrounded, it might have manifest itself again. It might have been that which provided him a crutch to lean on. It was the same reaction, after all.


    When all had looked around and begun to despair, his hand was already on his sword, his anger was already there, looking for something to cut down, looking for something to struggle against.


    Now it was different though. Instead of Yarmdon corpses, and the vicious reality of a battle, he was dragged into hell¡­ yet he wasn''t alone. It wasn''t his hand, it wasn''t his sword, it wasn''t his soul. It was three hundred of them, raging in a darkened sea, looking for any sign of light.


    Francis could feel the tension. He could see the ughter. He no longer had any fears about ying the entire vige. He needed not their despair. His eyes were focused on that boy, who drank in Ingolsol''s power as though it was nothing more than a ss of lukewarm water ¨C as though it was his to drink.


    Watching him, the mage fluctuated between extreme rage, and the most acute delight. With every viger that was in, he drew closer to his goal. He drew closer to extreme power.


    ''Do I need to break his soul, or will breaking his body be sufficient?'' Those were the thoughts that upied his mind, as he danced a gleeful dance, watching his monsters go to work. He''d never controlled so many of them at once before. It was terribly exciting. Terribly empowering.


    He bound his own heart to theirs, so every life that they took, he felt it too, as though he had taken it with his own hands. It tantalized his mind, like a delicious electric shock every half a second.


    New magics came to him too, as he watched, as he imagined breaking down the most delectable treat, as he imagined dissecting that boy, and all that he stood for, all that he was worth, and releasing Ingolsol from his confines, like a snake leaving its egg.


    A ball of darkness grew in his palm, flickering like fire. He''d never been able to summon up elemental darkness before, despite trying thousands of times. He looked at his pale hands in shock, before his grin widened even further, to the point that it seemed as though it might fall off his face.


    All this from merely watching, all of it from confronting the unexpected. He leaned back and called in delight towards the sky, towards his God.


    "OHHHHHHHHH PRAISSSSSSEEEEEEEE BE TO HE THAT INFLICTS DESPAIR! PRAISE BE HE THAT KNOWS SUFFERING, AND GUIDDDDESSSSS ME TOWARDS THE SWEEEEEETEST AGONIES, AND THE SWEEEEETEST PROBLEMS, OPENING MY FEEEEBBBBLEE MORTAL MIND!" He sang. More than once, he''d sung such a thing in a moment of discovery, but never quite so loudly, never quite so passionately.


    He knew it to be Ingolsol that guided him towards difficulty. One of the Dark God''s many tests. It was the difficulty that granted him power. Every new problem he solved, every time he sacrificed an old idea for a new one, the Dark God would grant him something in exchange.


    Francis realized he had been foolish to assume that Ingolsol would allow everything to run in his favour, merely because in building his Domain, Francis intended to act in the Dark God''s interests.


    No, the Dark God was far more magnanimous than that. Every step of the way, he would test his followers, for he was simply that kind of man. A harsh and iron hand. That was how Francis knew the Dark God to rule. Even now, Francis was sure that he was watching from above, filled with delight.

 Chapter 350: A Puppet of Power - Part 1

    He opened his ears wide, ignoring the screams of agony and the battle around him, his ears open only for Ingolsol.


    "Boring¡­" Came a yawnedint, as the Dark God reclined in his chair, watching things unfold. "I''m really not a fan of these schrly types. A tendency to overanalyse. Not artistic ir. I mean, look at the scale of this magic circle that he''s drawn up. Bit overkill, where''s the fun in that?"


    Again, Desebel found herself rolling her eyes. "Aren''t you the one that gave him the power to do all this?"


    "I did¡­ But not alllllll this. Terribly boring. Despair is more interesting than that. A close-fought battle ¨C there''s a sweeter despair to be had there," Ingolsol said.


    "I recall you seeming rather excited by the strength difference at first¡­" Desebel noted.


    Ingolsol waved his hand dismissively. "Yes, yes. That was before a whole vige suddenly turned themselves into heroes. There''s no fun in that. Dying while fighting? That''s meant to be an honour reserved for the soldiery.


    If everyone''s charging without fear towards a so-called honourable death, I''m going to end up getting put out of business."


    Again, Desebel found herself rolling her eyes. At times the Dark Lord fell too quickly into hisedy act, concealing his true feelings on the matter. That was part of what made him so frightening, so unpredictable.


    "Well, I suppose we need to shatter this, don''t we?" He grinned a malicious grin. "udia will be cryingpassionate tears for them, I''m sure, singing to her little servants about their wondrous sacrifice. But no, these mortals are dirtier than that. A single moment does not clear away the ck stains about their heart. Even the ones that they call hero ¨C they don''t exist.


    Every man is as dark and twisted as thest. They''re a tower of cards, held together by the glue of a false belief."


    With that statement, he drew a knife. Not even another God would have been able to tell you where he''d gotten in from. Even before being banished to thend of Despair and Darkness, he was quite well known for his tendency to make all manner of questionable things appear from seemingly nothing, even in the halls of other Gods, ces in which he should have had no power.


    Desebel felt herself quiver for a second. It wasn''t the sight of the knife. It was the sight of the one who wielded it. A figure so inconsistent, so ever-changing, had he been a mortal, they might have named him the most fickle man on the.


    In one moment, he was as grouchy as a petnt child, in another as witty as a travelling poet¡­ and in the next, he was this, that which had caused all the other Gods to fear him.


    His menacing cast up his dark hair behind him, and a vicious grin spread across his face. He shot his demon attendant a scrutinising nce, a look that she swore could see through her.


    As scantily dressed as she was, so close to full nudity, with that look, she was more naked than she had ever been, and she held her hands up in front of her chest as though to cover herself, and she looked away with a blush.


    By the time she looked again, Ingolsol had already drawn the ck knife across the skin of his thumb.


    "Lord¡ª" She said in shock.


    He smiled at her a dangerous smile, before holding his thumb up above his goblet. Blood welled up at his wound, and gravity pulled away a single perfect droplet. There was a soft ssh, barely audible, as it fell into the dark liquid, without leaving a single ripple.


    It was only then she knew what he had done. She gasped in horror.


    "Your blood, Lord Ingolsol¡­ If they know what you''ve done, they''lle for you!" She said, her voice weaker and more distressed than she had ever known it.


    "If theye, then once more, I will make them kneel," Ingolsol said in a deep growl. "Lord of Despair, or so they scorn me, but there does not go by a single day that they forget who I am."


    "You would risk it all, merely for light entertainment?" She asked. "All that you had built up, all the time that you put into these things? I thought you had grown an interest in the boy? And what of Francis? You would wipe the board clean in a single sweep? Only to invite the ire of all the Fullguard ¨C even the Dark Gods will not stand by you on this."


    "You underestimate them," Ingolsol said. "You all do. Even she does, my beloved ¨C but I suppose she understands them better than the others. The mortals are the seedbed of our powers, you forget that. They all do. If not now, they would havee eventually.


    This is my era. Mine and udia''s. They''ll realize that before soon. The mortal world undergoes a grand shift. Only the powerful will be able to keep their fangs. And who am I, pray tell, Desebel?"


    "You''re the Lord of Des¡ª" Desebel caught herself before she finished her sentence. A gasp escaped her, as she was struck by a realization, and a headache, as though she''d forgotten something important. Clutching her head, she bent over, and forced the words through her teeth. "No¡­ You''re the God of Power."


    Ingolsol smiled a rare white smile, the fangs of his teeth not at all dissimr to those of a tiger. For the first time in ten thousand years, another entity had called him by what he truly was.


    "ARRRRRRRRRRRRRGHHHHHHHHHHHH!"


    A scream rang out across the battlefield, louder than any of the others, loud enough to draw pause tobat, as Beam fell to his knees.


    "Beam!" N shouted, reaching to grab him on instinct, to pull him away from the monsters that would surelye pouring his way. It was a vain attempt, for there was nowhere to run, but she did it anyway.

 Chapter 351: A Puppet of Power - Part 2

    Hey face down in the snow, his eyespletely shut. When she turned him, she saw the blood streaming out of his ears and eyes, and running out of his nose. He was hot to the touch. Not just feverishly hot, but painfully hot.


    "What happened?" Greeves shouted urgently, using the brief lull inbat to dash towards them. As far as he was concerned, Beam was the most important person on that battlefield. He''d seen him work miracle after miracle. He was in a situation where he didn''t know what to think, as such, he clung to that which was most likely to free him, and he did so with the desperation of a younger man.


    But despite his speed, the battle was already beginning to resume. The vigers were looking over to them too, with wide and fearful eyes. That fearlessness that they had exhibited up until a moment ago, it had suddenly vanished, like steam to a cold breeze. Many of their tools slipped from their hands, as weakness overran them, and the spell was broken.


    Lombard could only spare the boy''s body a look out of the corner of his eye, for now, two Konbreakers were closing in on him, and with only one arm, they were proving more difficult than they otherwise might be.


    He found himself tutting, and muttering under his breath. "Damn it Dominus, where are you?"


    He''d thought he understood his old battlefield friend, after seeing Beam himself. He''d thought he''d understood the desire to mentor something that special, to watch it grow, to allow it to be set loose on the world to do great things. He felt it firmly in his chest that he''d be willing to die for that cause.


    With such a feeling, he''d also understood Dominus, and that which he''d surely seen in the boy, that which was beyond Lombard''s own foresight.


    And yet the boy''s master was nowhere to be seen. Even straining his senses to the maximum, Lombard could pick up no hint of him. He could pick up no hint of anything past the confines of the dark dome that had sprung up around them. With each minute that passed, that dome hardened into something more sslike, more physical, more imprable.


    "Damn it," Lombard said again, feeling himself finally begin to lose hisposure. Tolsey overheard him, and he understood the man''s frustrations. With Beam down, they didn''t have the strength to protect him. They didn''t have the strength to protect anyone.


    "Shit! He''s burning like crazy! Is this that fuckin'' mage''s doing?" Greeves spat, after trying to touch Beam''s forehead, only to have his hand pull away, as though he''d just grasped a steaming hot kettle. Yet even as he spat that usation, Francis was watching, his head tilted curiously, and his jaw open, as his hands twitched by his side.


    He didn''t look like a man that had done anything. In fact, he looked like a man deeply disturbed by what he''d just seen. Greeves couldn''t draw any conclusions from that, though, for he''d seen just how mad the mage was from their earlier interactions, for all he knew it was simply another act.


    "Impossible¡­ There''s so much!" Francis said. Only he could see the density of darkness that clung to Beam. Only he. udia''s scent was almostpletely wiped out by now, along with the boy''s own.


    It was of such a magnitude, that Francis found it impossible to believe the Dark God himself was not standing before him. It was the type of weight that he was sure could make a split in two, make the rivers dry up and the mountains crumble. But he had no true conception of what a God was.


    He''d felt Ingolsol''s presence before, and assumed it to be the full thing, the untainted thing. But no mortal could survive in the presence of a God. What he had seen had been a mere fraction. Francis quickly realized that, making what he saw in front of him all the more disturbing. Heat rose off Beam''s body, as thest of the sleety and bloody snow began to evaporate around him.


    A monster reached in to lunge for Beam, a terrible-looking Hobgoblin, his fangs twisted and gleeful. It was as though the creature remembered the grudge its kind owed to Beam, for there was such an intensity of emotion there, beyond mere bloodlust ¨C it was true hatred.


    It grabbed for Beam with a thick hand, as N watched in dismay, as Greeves stumbled to his feet with his sword, trying to swat it away.


    But before the monster could get within touching distance, its arm exploded in a mess of blood, drenching Beam''s two defenders.


    They both looked in horror at the mage, thinking him to be a sick man, even sicker than they''d expected, that he''d torment them so, even at the cost of the lives of his own men. But Francis was frozen in ce, he had no part in what had just happened.


    "Impossible¡­" He said again, his eyes widening further. "Impossible! IMPOSSIBLE!"


    He could see it. At the centre of that darkness, there was still a tiny will, struggling to survive, like a single blue me, it held it all together, stopping the being that was Beam from merely disintegrating, soul and all, into a burst of energy.


    He held the slightest sway over it. Francis could see that. Enough to swat away that Hobgoblin attack, as though through a will that eclipsed consciousness, without even seeing the creature before him, he hated the Hobgoblin with the same ferocity that the monster hated him.


    A momentter, Beam''s leg kicked behind him, as the Hobgoblin''s green blood poured all over him for its missing arm. Then, following that, his fingers began to curl, grasping the red slushy dirt between them.


    An eye opened a momentter. An eye stained purely by gold. These were no longer flecks. These were the eyes of a cat ¨C golden all the way through. Golden enough for a banker to lust after them.


    The Hobgoblin burst into ck mes upon meeting his gaze, and then it began to turn around, and charge through the ranks, swatting at the monsters to either side of it, bursting them into ck me as well.

 Chapter 352: A Puppet of Power - Part 3

    It was impossible to tell quite what had happened, at least for those who were inexperienced in magic. But Francis ¨C he knew. He could feel his hold over the Hobgoblin broken, shattered beyond all repair. He could feel the heat off those mes, the power of a God, the power of Ingolsol.


    It reminded him of when he was sending his monsters into the mountains. More than once, he had felt his bond break with them, yet he could still feel their presence. They''d still been alive, but their loyalty to him had been dismissed, his magic chains had been shattered. He thought that to be merely a symptom of fear, the symptom of any emotionally distressed beast¡­ but now he wondered differently.


    Now he wondered if this was not a magic in itself.


    Beam put a hand in front of him, and with a great strain, he managed to lift his body up enough to drag himself to one knee.


    "Beam¡­" N said, her voice quiet with distress as she watched him.


    The monsters were not ones to wait, either. The ck mes of the Hobgoblin, they''d burned for a few moments, and the creature itself had inflicted a good amount of carnage, enough for Beam''s allies to seize a slight advantage, and buy themselves a few seconds of breathing room.


    The Hobgoblin soon turned to ash though, far more quickly than normal mes would burn it through. With its disappearance, the mes began to fade as well, and the caution of the monsters faded, and they dove back in again.


    At the same time, the armies thundered in from behind them, merely a few moments away from contact. It wasn''t just the monsters either. The ck-robed ''humans'' ¨C it was hard to tell quite what they were, given their robes ¨C were running after them too, though they struggled to keep up.


    A Half-Titan smelt blood and opportunity. It pushed a pack of Horned-Goblins out of its way, as it went stumbling towards Beam, drawn to him, like a ma. The Titan was also looking in his direction, though with a degree more calmness than its brethren. There was a calcting look to its eye.


    The Half-Titan bullied a sword off a Hobgoblin as it came close. It looked rather ridiculous in its wed hands, and it was hard to tell just how it kept hold of it, but manage it did, and as it drew near, it pulled its arm back in a massive swing, its sword pointed squarely at Beam''s back, as he struggled to make it to his feet.


    "BEAM!" N said again, this time in a shout containing a good deal more urgency. Beam''s eyes were fixed firmly to the ground. It was impossible to tell if he knew what was going on around him, given how he''d so suddenly copsed.


    "Damn it!" Greeves cursed, shrugging off the attacks of a Horned-Goblin, as he caught sight of the danger Beam was in, and tried to put himself in a position where he might at least have the option of helping.


    But where there was one Horned-Goblin, now there were three, all of them twittering and jabbing at him with their spears. One of them skirted along his side, drawing a fresh trail of blood, and narrowly missing something important. He gave a cry out in pain, and took a frustrated step back.


    Of all those that had seen the position Beam was in, none of them could help, nor did any of them truly want to look behind them, as they saw the impending walls of doom closing in from all sides.


    Judas found himself tearing his eyes away, as the sword drew nearer, t against Beam''s back.


    "BEAM!!" N shouted, so loudly that her words tore at her throat. There were several names she wanted to scream in the hell they were in, several people she wanted to look for, that she wanted to desperately protect. But only one of them was right in front of her. She shouted his name with emotion enough for all of them.


    Finally, Beam''s sword hand twitched, as he managed to steady his ringing head just enough to befortable moving his arm. His vision was blurry ¨C but he was used to that. His stomach was riddled with sickness, as though one of his organs had stopped functioning, but he was used to that too.


    The hands he looked down and saw, they felt disembodied, not his own, there was a distance between him and reality. But he''d grown used to that as well.


    He wasn''t used to this power, though.


    GAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRROWWWWWWW


    Like a p of thunder, a straight line of destruction opened up in front of him. The Half-Titan was cleaved cleanly in two.


    It didn''t stop there, either, Beam''s sh ran into another Hobgoblin, and then a herd of Horned-Goblins, and then thest of the Half-Titans¡­ Even the Titan itself was unfortunate to be in the de''s path. The sh killed thirty monsters, and butchered a handful of the robbed figures beyond them, continuing in a line for nearly fifty metres, before it faded into nothing.


    And then, once more, Beam coughed up a lungful of ck blood, and copsed.


    They were all startled. They were all shocked. The whole battlefield had frozen. But it was only the mighty that understood. The more knowledge they had ofbat, the more shocked they were.


    The vigers felt a fire burning in them¡­ Indeed, they''d felt that feeling before. But now it was as though they were enshrouded entirely in me. The moment Beam had swung his sword, and wrought that destruction, enough to part the fog in a misty forest, it was as though he''d parted the fog in their hearts as well, and lit a zing fire, an impossible me.


    Shock, indeed, they felt shock. But for the vigers, it was more overwhelming than anything. They felt the passion and connectedness usually only reserved for the best trained, most elite fighting force. There was a hardness in their hearts only reserved for the experienced.


    If they''d stopped to look, they might have wondered how it was that even the weakest woman was now able to fend off a mighty Horned-Goblin.

 Chapter 353: A Puppet of Power - Part 4

    If they had looked through the eyes of Francis, they might have seen something as well. The shifting, shapeless darkness had a form. With that nce that had burned a Hobgoblin and crumbled its will, there was a sh that bathed his allies in a fog of misty darkness.


    Now, they were not vigers. They were soldiers of shadow, by Francis'' eye. They wore plumed helmets, and sported spears and armour. They were soldiers of Ingolsol.


    He did not breathe the word "how" as was his usual habit. His mind was working too quickly for that, too frantically. Under normal circumstances, he''d never felt such pressure. Not even when he''d in his family, and he heard the footsteps of the town guard stomping around outside his house. Then, he had been calm, and calcting. Now he was beyond that.


    Now he was timeless, his thoughts ruthlessly efficient.


    ''A congration of sudden energy ¨C energy of the Dark sort. Energy that shouldn''t have been here otherwise¡­ An offering from Ingolsol,'' that was his first conclusion, his first thought. He knew a God to have interfered. He''d known that earlier, but it was worth restating.


    That amount of power, it had far exceeded his expectations. It was to no surprise to see the boy suddenly copse from the weight of it. The surprise had been that it had all been contained in the boy in the first ce. Some, yes, that was to be expected, as per the Dark Lord''s intentions, to have the mortal crumble, and have all his power spill out¡­ But this?


    For it to all be sucked inside and kept there, like an overfilled balloon, that was beyond unexpected.


    And then he''d risen. He''d held it. He hadn''t burst. He hadn''t lost his intention. He''d risen and those eyes ¨C eyes that weren''t his own ¨C they''d still been twisted by hatred, by desire, they''d looked at the Hobgoblin with anger. They''d looked, and by the shiver on his back, Francis knew they''d been searching for him.


    Then, impossibly, beyond all possible calction, there had been a swing of the de. A swing worthy of a man of the Fifth Boundary ¨C easily. To puncture through all that flesh, to travel such a distance¡­ Yes, the Fifth was where one would ce it.


    Then where would they ce the magic that followed? Was that even magic? It was not mana that fed it. No. Francis could see noy lines, though he could feel the power streaming off it. It was something else.


    Something that bound to souls, like a ver''s whip¡­ Nay, this was not subordination¡­ It was assimtion. He didn''t crush them, he empowered them, and by instinct, they fought for his cause.


    Was this a natural phenomenon? Was this something that he''d been able to do, before Ingolsol had filled him with such power? Had he been the reason that the vigers held themselves together, even without a magic circle, or the interfering of some Elder?


    Francis didn''t allow his emotions to influence his decision. His madness was reserved for reality. In his mind, in that warped void where thought urred, he was beyond match, for he''d given up all that limited him. No, he knew the answer. The more disconnected from the situation around him he grew, the more he knew it.


    That boy, a mere child of the Second Boundary, with the scent of udia clinging to him, he carried a power to influence will. More importantly, he carried a power to resist a God, if only for a minute.


    A rare emotion flickered towards Francis, the slightest warming of the heart, the slightest glimmering of respect. Such things usually didn''t reach him so deep in thought. The void was reserved only for ideas, only for the pursuit of truth¡­ and yet that feeling had reached him anyway.


    A fellow traveller, that was what he felt. A fellow journeyer into the unknown, the impossible, someone willing to go beyond all mortal understanding. That resonated with Francis, and for that reason, he knew, better than anyone else, that the most dangerous person in front of him, by far and away, was that boy. He believed it now. He was no knight. No knight could grasp that sort of power.


    No knight could reach beyond what udia had already given them.


    With that understanding, as his eyes returned to reality, and he began to once more take in what was going on around him. Half of his monsters, creatures that he''d given birth to ¨C they''d turned on him.


    By the eyes of the vigers, it surely seemed as though the creatures had gone mad, for wherever one looked, the monsters that had been so intently pursuing human flesh before, they now turned on each other, and in the process, the armies tore themselves to pieces.


    That charge that hade in from the back, with so many hundreds, its force had been blunted. The vigers fought like demons now, and the monsters ¨C at least half of them ¨C offered no resistance, and fought for the same cause. It was aplete free for all, impossible to tell friend from foe. Impossible to tell who might win.


    But with two hundred vigers cloaked in Ingolsol''s Aura, fighting like Ingolsol''s own infantry, the victor seemed to point in a particr direction. It was only Francis'' hooded disciples that could have changed the direction, for there were hundreds of them. An observer might have eyed the ming weapons in their hands, and evaluated them cautiously, but Francis knew the truth of it.


    His followers were no stronger than the average human. In fact, their pursuit of magic had made them weaker. It was only their maddened minds and theirplete dismissal of pain that made them dangerous.


    Even then, had they posed a problem, Beam''s sword swing had offered four overwhelming solutions.


    The sword swing that had reached the Titan had turned it, just like it had turned the other monsters in the vicinity of it. It now fought under Beam''s will, like a crazed goliath, tearing apart all those that stood in his way.

 Chapter 354: A Puppet of Power - Part 5

    That might have been a solvable problem, for there were three more creatures of the same type ¨C yet those too were lost, those too were fighting under Beam''s will. Every ailment afflicted on the Main Body of Francis'' duplicate army, it was transmitted to the rest. A spell of that strength required a significant weakness.


    For those doing the fighting, those with the strength to resist the mania, it was a terrifying thing. All those below the strength of the Second Boundary were swept up in an aura of battle lust that blocked out any other thought. It was only a handful of them that managed to keep an eye firmly on the reality of the situation.


    N saw that Beam still hadn''t budged. Even as the armies descended into chaos around them, she drew her dagger to defend him, standing her ground like a bear defending her child.


    Despite the chaos, Lombard was able to calmly call out a question. "Is he breathing?" He asked, his back to her, as he moved in closer, towards where Beam had copsed, in order to assist with the defence.


    Now that the monsters had turned, they were allowed to take such liberties ¨C but the battlefield was still fraught with danger, as giant monsters caused all manner of destruction, with or without the intention to.


    With Lombard there, N was finally able to check. She held her ear to his mouth, and she felt it, slow and weak breaths, but breaths that still burned like they''d been breathed by a dragon. Even with the heat, those breaths grew weaker by the second.


    "Damn it to hell, what has that mage done?" Greeves cursed,ing in close. By his eyes, the only rational thing was to me the mage. He was there, after all, stock still as a statue, everso calm despite the chaos. It looked entirely like something of his doing.


    Tolsey found himself eyeing the mage as well, as he fell in next to Lombard to assist with the defence. He said nothing, and merely kept the monsters away from them, infected by the same battle aura that had afflicted the vigers. His heart was hardened. He felt like a shield-bearer in the midst of battle. He had but one purpose, and that was to defend.


    That purpose filled his life with more meaning than it had ever held before.


    As the rest of their little party ¨C with Judas and a few straggling soldiers joining themter, forming a circle around Beam''s unconscious body ¨C took in the situation, and med it on the mage, only Lombard found himself squinting, seeing past that.


    ''There''s more to this,'' he knew. He couldn''t feel quite what it was, but he almost could. It was right there, on the edge of his periphery, like an itch he couldn''t scratch. Beam had more to him than first met the eye, he understood that now. There was something else in him that ounted for his unnatural strength, even by the standards of the Second Boundary.


    There was something else¡­ Or maybe it was more than one thing.


    Whatever it was, it was exactly the sort of thing that would have attracted Dominus, a man who had been quite calm in drawing his sword against a King, against an entire country, with no allies to support him in his rage.


    From the start, Lombard had realized this was no ordinary battle, not to be fought with ordinary means. When mere vigers had triumphed where his own soldiers had failed ¨C there were greater forces moving, unpredictable things. They sat in a crucible that might have rewrote history, and at the centre of it all, there was a boy who had called forth an impossible power, seemingly without reason.


    And then he had copsed, seemingly without reason.


    It was not reason Lombard operated on, regardless. As a man who had spent his life on the battlefield, he knew it was not a carefully nned strategy that won in the end. It was something that exceeded it. It incorporated it, but it exceeded it all the same.


    "Keep him alive," he told N firmly.


    She hardly heard him. She was desperately trying to think of ways to help the lifeless body in front of her. ''Snow?'' She wondered. ''To cool down his dreadful heat?''


    "Kill the mage ¨C that''s what we need to do," Greeves said testily. "He''s the source of all this. I wager that if we finish him, what he''s done to the boy will pass as well. He''s called up chaos, for whatever reason. Maybe his magic needs his ughter of us to be more entertaining ¨C whatever it is, we shouldn''t trust that it willst.


    We can''t just stand here ¨C we need to move, before he does something else, and we''re right back where we were before."


    For entirely different reasons, Lombard was of the same opinion. With Dominus still yet to arrive, Lombard knew that he could not rely on him. He knew not what was happening outside of the dark dome that they''d been trapped in. Every piece of logic that he knew was being continuously upturned. For all he knew, something might have happened to Dominus as well.


    They knew they had to move, but so did Francis.


    With cold eyes, he pped his hands together. Rarely did he need to speak the names of his magic. Rarely was there a need to. But now there was a cause. He''d built a sacrificial altar to his God, and now the mes were growing out of control. He moved to calm them.


    "Farlymangar," he muttered to himself, as he pressed his palms together. In three other locations, his clones did the same.


    A pir of earth sted out underneath him, raising him into the sky by ten feet in an instant. And it was just in time too. There had been a stray Horned-Goblin looking for his head. Its spear point bounced off the pir of dirt as it missed him.


    Higher he rose, and higher, until he was thirty feet above all the action, on a thick and trusty tower of earth.

 Chapter 355: A Puppet of Power - Part 6

    Chapter Read:


    Arrows came for him now, and he had another word to say for them.


    "Fom," he said, simple, and articte. Within an instant, an invisible barrier was erected around him, and the arrows bounced off. It was a field of magic, more than anything, capable of repelling small projectiles, though it didn''t do quite so well against strong-armed melee attacks.


    Regardless, it served its purpose well enough, allowing him to see the battlefield, whilst protecting him from any counterattacks.


    He could still sense the concentration of darkness within Beam, denser than a bomb, heavy and unmoving. The boy''s breathing was slowing. At any moment, it seemed as though his heart would stop. If those were Ingolsol''s intentions, then he was achieving his aim quite splendidly. It was the body of the boy, after all, and the power stored within it, that would give Francis the result he desired.


    And still, the power that he was draining from the surrounding area continued to pour in. The blood and chaos spilt by all the fighting beneath him, that only added to it. Streams of negativity sat in the air like humidity. He wove his hands, exerting what little control he did have over them, and attempting to gather them all in one ce.


    It was like trying to gather up all the steam from a kettle ¨C a thoroughly difficult and irritating task.


    He directed it all towards one location, with his clones helping him. He fed it towards Beam, and as he did so, he felt his heart pound. E wasn''t sure if this added power would gather up with the rest, pulled in by its density¡­ but he couldn''t help but try. The more he could concentrate in one ce, the better, for the more powerful the manifestation of Ingolsol would be.


    Before Beam passed, Francis made good use of him, directing more darkness his way, hoping that it would gather, and cluster.


    And it did. Far more than could be expected, and with far less effort than he had expected it to. As he had nned this event, this was the part that he had thought hardest on. It was something he couldn''t emte, he couldn''t practise. He was sure if anything was to go wrong, then it would be here. The end result was far beyond his expectations.


    All the darkness of the dome began to hover around Beam in a loose sphere. Thinly at first, and then growing more and more tightly packed, as Beam''s body drank in more of it.


    There was a cry of agony beneath his feet, as Beam''s fingers curled, grasping at wet snow and mud, pulling it tight into his hands.


    That was all they needed to know to confirm the truth. The mage had done it ¨C he''d done it all. N red up at him hatefully, as Greeves ground his teeth. They saw the mage waggling his fingers, like a conductor, directing more and more suffering towards Beam.


    His low groans were like music to Francis'' ears, a song he yed for his Dark Lord, hoping that he would hear it.


    Francis could have sworn he heard a cackle of delight, and he allowed himself a smile at that, a smile that he thought to be shallow, and reserved, but a smile that in reality distorted his face like a mask.


    "Why does that make youugh so heartily?" Desebel asked, as Ingolsol leaned back on his throne, covering his face with one hand.


    "Well¡ªthey''re just so interesting," he chuckled. "Every few hundred years, one of themes along to subvert our expectations, to turn everything on its head, to make everything interesting. Thank goodness for immortality. I will never tire of this."


    "Have you not already killed him?" Desebel said doubtfully. "You''ve already ruined your own fun."


    "Ohh, no, my sweet little demon," Ingolsol sat, patting her head between her horns in a rare disy of affection. "This is already outside my intentions. The best kind of y ¨C a y that surprises you. But I have no doubt now, better than if he had fallen to it like a dog, I will hear her voicein. She will reach me, she will see, and she will understand."


    "How can you be so sure?" Desebel asked.


    Ingolsol did not respond. He merely returned to the observing of the liquid in his goblet, and the drama that was unfolding inside of it. He could only imagine what was going on inside udia''s chambers, a ce that he had visited only once.


    "Calm yourself, udia," he murmured delightedly, mimicking the voice of udia''s attendant, and what he was sure she would be saying right about now.


    "Mydy¡­ This is not a good idea," she said instead. He had not seen either of them in thousands of years, and time changed things, even Gods. But though their words were different, the situation was quite as he had imagined it.


    udia, with a distraught expression, as she leaned over her pool. With the barrier over the battlefield, her view was murky, but she''d soon given it her entire focus, once she''d noted that her old nemesis had joined the fray.


    "We cannot allow him to simply do as he pleases," udia said firmly. "If that amount of divine energy explodes itself in the mortal realm¡­ and especially if it''s of Ingolsol''s origin¡­ the consequences would be devastating."


    Her attendant was unmoved by her argument, as she gently tried to pry the knife from udia''s hand.


    "And if you add your own divine energy, you will make it twice as bad, will you not?" She said gently.


    udia remained unconvinced. "Did you not see it?" She hissed, her face uncharacteristically angry. When it involved Ingolsol, she was always thus. She could not hide her hatred for him. "Ingolsol poured that much divine energy down on him, and not only did he resist it, he assimted it ¨C he wielded it."


    "It was most impressive," her attendant agreed, squeezing herdy''s hand to reassure her. "But a human simply can not stand that much energy, not for long periods of time. It has to escape, one way or another, he will have to syphon it away, if he is to stand any chance."

 Chapter 356: A Puppet of Power - Part 7

    "He has, and he will," udia said firmly, almost childishly.


    "Mydy, why do you believe so strongly in him?" She asked suddenly.


    For the first time, udia looked up, startled by the question. "I spare all of the mortals my love."


    "You do," the attendant reassured her. "But this one in particr, you''ve put belief in him, a dangerous belief. Blessing him as you did, that was a tremendous risk. You might have created a monster. Now, if you go through with this, more than a monster, you''ll be making a cataclysm. A whole country of people could perish for this."


    "THEY WILL PERISH ALREADY, INGOLSOL HAS ASSURED THAT!" udia shouted, tears in her eyes. "Do you not see me, powerless? What God am I? What kind of mistress do these mortals pray to, when I can not even protect them? I am always a step behind him, always on the back foot. He is always inflicting trouble, always causing them so much pain¡­ and I''m always too ill-equipped to defend them.


    And now, my only hope is a mortal again ¨C a mortal to solve a problem of my own making."


    "This isn''t your fault, mydy," the attendant reassured her, more urgently than before. "Even all the Fullguard together could not stand up to Ingolsol. To burden yourself with matching him alone is foolish."


    udia sighed, using the back of her hand to brush away her tears. "I hate that man," she said resolutely. "He is the source of all bad things ¨C and worse still, he ims to be something other than evil¡­ But he once said something ¨C the only thing he''s ever said that I agree with. He said it was the mortals that would settle the battle between the Gods. It was them that held the power to do that.


    The Fullguard scorn the notion¡­ But I think I believe him."


    She drew the knife against her thumb, harming her palm skin. She didn''t flinch away from the pain. Within an instant, blood welled up from the cut. She spoke again to her attendant. "It isn''t just Beam that I believe in. I believe in all of them.


    But at this moment, against Ingolsol''s manoeuvrings, it is only he that is in a position to change their fate. He has a fiery heart. Even a God would struggle to crush such a thing."


    And then a droplet of her blood fell into that pool of clear water, as her attendant watched on, in mournful anguish.


    They heard the scream together, the scream of unimaginable pain, as Beam''s soul was ground up against the divine will of two intensely powerful Gods. They heard it, and the attendant turned away. udia did not. She listened, with a hardened face and a clenched fist, and she prayed. Chapter Experience:


    "What''s happening?" Lombard shouted over his shoulder.


    "I don''t know!" N shouted back, distraught.


    Beam was barely breathing, but a scream of the most horrifying sort from his throat. His body ran left and right, trying to roll away from the pain, as his hands twitched, and his limbs spasmed.


    Worse still was the heat that came off him. As N tried to grasp his hand, desperately, she could not even get close. It was as though she was reaching into a fire, or even a forge. Her fingers burned to the point of charring. Natural instinct forced that she pull her hand away.


    The ground too, it groaned under the weight of something. The snow had long since evaporated, but now too the grass ckened, as did the blood, until they were nothing but dark soil, as everything burned away.


    Cracks ran through the dried ground, as everything within a two-metre radius was rendered desert dry. N stood closer to him than any of the others. Greeves had already moved outside of the radius of the heat, as he saw smoke rise from his clothes, and threaten to burst into me. He saw it on N too, and he shouted to her.


    "MOVE GIRL!" He shouted. "WHEN THE BOY WAKES UP, HE''LL GUT ME IF I LET YOU DIE AS WELL!"


    Only that made N take a hesitant step back ¨C the implication that Beam would indeed wake up. And the moment she did, the ground buckled, throwing her off her feet.


    She fell further than she should have. The ground seemed further away than it had been a moment before. And indeed it was. Where Beamy, there was now a crater, a metre deep, as though he''d been pped down into the ground by the hand of God.


    The dirt walls sloped downwards, revealing the path of the power, and the differing pressure of it. All the while, the mage continued to weave his signs, gathering more energy into the area.


    "YOU MONSTER!" N hollowed at him, her voice so full of emotion her vocal cords might have torn. Everything, in a single night, piece by piece, was being taken from her. She refused to let go of Beam as well. It was as though someone was taking a piece of her soul away, a piece of her.


    In the bottom of that crater, Beam twitched, and his hand slowly clenched its way into a fist.


    Even with his poor eyesight, Francis saw it, and he stopped his magic weaving.


    "udia as well..? That whore intends to match the Dark Lord?" He muttered to himself in disbelief. He couldn''t decide yet whether it was a bad thing or not. It seemed to him like a move of the utmost foolishness. So foolish that he was sure he was overlooking something.


    But no matter how he thought, he could see no conclusion other than recklessness. The boy would perish under the weight of Ingolsol''s divine energy. Adding more divine energy on top of that would only make him more vtile. It would only make him into a more worthy sacrifice.


    Francis'' lips curled into a mad smile, as he felt a swelling in his chest, as a euphoric feeling took over. It filled his stomach, and then his head, enough to roll his eyes back into his skull. He almost fell off his tower from the pleasure of it.

 Chapter 357: A Puppet of Power - Part 8

    There was so much power. So much. Far more than he had ever anticipated. The power of a God was something else ¨C and now udia had been a foolish enough wench to add hers into the mix too. It was like a cooking pot of the finest meal, and soon it would be cooked, and a portion of that power was sure to be his.


    He''d seen the strength of it already, as wielded by Beam, and he knew that to only be a portion of it. There was no way a mortal could manifest it all truly andpletely. But Francis was sure he could ¨C given enough time. He had more tools and knowledge at his disposal than a mere boy. Granted such a thing, he would make it his life''s work to control it.


    And yet¡­ It wasn''t he that was granted it. The thought sullied his smile, and brought him grimly back to reality. It was he that had been chosen to be the centre of this power, the centre of the stage that Francis himself had made¡­ It was some boy of unknown origin.


    Francis could forgive Ingolsol''s interference, adding to the mix, bestowing his divine will on him. He could forgive it, because he could understand it ¨C his Lord wanted chaos. He wanted suffering. He wanted to push the catastrophe to its natural limits. He worked within the bounds that Francis had already set, in ordance with his will, to make things ever greater.


    But udia? She did no such thing. She worked against him. She did. Fancis could see it from the sharpness of her divine energy. Even now, away from its master, it warred against Ingolsol''s, attempting to batter the darkness away from the boy, and rid him of its poison.


    Francis knew it wouldn''t work. He knew it was only a matter of time before it too would be stained ck, and it too would join the coagtion of dark energy that he''d been collecting. But that didn''t stop it from irritating him. Now, after all these years, after nearly a decade spent chasing udia''s favour ¨C it was now that she chose to reveal herself to him, whore that she was.


    She was so close, after all that time spent chasing her, and when she came, it was in defence of another man.


    To the very end, from the very start, that Goddess had stood against him. He dug his jagged fingernails so hard into his pale flesh that it drew blood, marring the skin, opening up old scars where he had done the same thing countless times before in the same fit of frustration.


    "Whhhhhhhore!!!" Francis hissed, overwhelmed by the most violent of anger. It was as though he''d walked in on his beloved sleeping with another man. His anger was so violent that it surprised even him. He''d thought he hated her, he thought he waspletely done with her¡­. But now as she showed herself so close, and she spurned him again, it angered him to such extremes that his mind went white.


    A pale blue frost had gathered at his fingertips before he even knew what he was doing. A spear of ice gathered, misting up the air around it. More and more mana he put into it, without even realizing what he was doing. Denser and denser the spear became, until the translucent ie slowly went towards purple, and then towards ck.


    "WHHHHOREE!" He howled against it his rage, and thrust the icence at her, or at least, at where a portion of her energyy, battling for control inside the body of that unconscious boy, at the bottom of that crater.


    The spell moved with the speed of a thunderbolt. It was iparable to all that he''d cast before. It was so powerful that his clones could not fully mimic it. They were charging with only a fraction of his power, owing to them only having a fraction of his mana.


    He too, inside that Domain of his, was growing stronger as the result of the divine energy. Only after he''d sent such a thudding spear did he remember, for his power surprised even himself. He hadn''t nned to push himself so far so early, lest he use more of his mana than he intended...


    but even after he cast that spell, and he anxiously realised what he had done, and checked his reserves, he found that they were still overflowing, vast with power, and ever increasing.


    He howled in delight.


    His spellnded a secondter, with a great boom, like a meteor falling to earth. It cast up a storm of dust, and snow, and blood from the nearby corpses that hadn''t been quick enough to get out of the way.


    The other threences hit a momentter, more purple than ck, but tremendously powerful in their own right. They toonded, and shattered into each other, casting a frosty mist.


    It was a moment before the mist cleared, a moment in which Francis waited delightedly. He''d nned to let Ingolsol do all the work, to let him decide the limits of the body and when it was time to break free. He''d nned to include all the energy that he could from the environs that he''d collected, to pack it into the same space, and make the most efficient use of it that he could.


    With udia interfering, however, there was no need. There was such an abundance of power now that it was almostughable. If Francis had not already given up his sanity, he would have lost it once more there again, as he felt the overwhelming power boiling beneath him.


    Such power, all at his fingertips ¨C and this was only the beginning. This was only the barest spoonful. This was merely his Domain of Darkness ¨C once Ingolsol granted him the power he wished for, the boundaries that he wished to be broken, they would fall like ashes in the wind. With Ingolsol''s blessing, to permanently dwell at such a level of power would not be impossible.


    Mad numbers were within reach. The Sixth Boundary? Why stop there? Why not brush fingers with the Seven, and the Eighth? Why not the Tenth?


    They were maddening thoughts, everso maddening. So much power, so within reach. It was too perfect. Too much for him to handle.


    And then the fog cleared, and his heart forgot to beat. He sucked in a breath of cold air.

 Chapter 358: A Greedy Man - Part 1

    There, at the bottom of the crater, the body of the boy stilly there, as though untouched. Worse still, that girl with the red hair, she too was untouched. And all around them were untouched, all their allies. It was the monsters that had cast up a hail of blood and bone ¨C it was only the monsters that had suffered from that attack.


    "IMPOSSSSSSSSSSSSSIBLE!" Francis cried. He was no fool. It did not require any thought. He''d already put the pieces together earlier, and then it had happened once again. This was the power of the Gods. This was their doing ¨C but it was not they who wielded it.


    Their power had no will of their own. No, this was the will of that unconscious boy. Once more he had managed to control it, and once more he had thwarted Francis with it.


    The mage ground his teeth in his jaw, dismayed. He''d read books untouched for thousands of years. He''d learned things that no man could dare to risk believing ¨C and yet it was this here that shook his heart. He, who was already so distant from reality. It shook him. It went beyond expectation.


    So far beyond it. His hands trembled. He found himself suddenly afraid.


    The first time, he could believe it. A strong will, that would be exinable. TO hold on for a mere few seconds, to bear a weight that was surely like a whole house, or a whole castle, to hold on to it for the sake of his allies, and to cling to an extra few moments of life for their sake. He could understand that, to a degree. He praised that. He thought: there lies a mighty man.


    A man that could resist the Gods, even for a moment.


    But two at once? Two WARRING Gods at once? What was this? What was this? He couldn''t stomach it. He found himself vomiting his earlier meal up, as he staggered to his knees.


    ''Frightening,'' he shivered, tears stinging his eyes. ''Everso frightening¡­''


    Domains that men were not meant to travel ¨C Francis dwelled in them. He''d given up the most important connections with reality for the pursuit of that which he coveted. He''d made sacrifices that most men could not dream of. He''d done horrible things, and impossible things, and evil things.


    All the while, he was alone for it, dwelling in a sea of oily evil, questing for something murky, something impossible to hold in his head.


    A terrifying state to be in. A horrible amount of ult knowledge. Single truths that would have broken whole towns of men, he bore thousands of those. He held on despite thousands of those, for he knew his will to be strong. It was his will that kept him there, against the infinite void that sought to pull him apart. Sheer blind will.


    He that was held together only by such will, with no other thing to support him, not even the ground beneath his feet, for his mind had no connection to that reality. He that was alone, in the truest, most terrible sense, he found himself breaking, in the midst of battle.


    "Why?" He asked, as tears streamed down his face. "Why?"


    He''d cried more than once in the quiet of his own rooms. A man in his position could not hold himself together all the time, after all. But never had he cried in the midst of something important. There was always strength in him, the strength to make a choice, any choice, that might lead forwards, even if it meant doing the most heinous of crimes.


    Yet here was a man ¨C nay, a boy ¨C who had done none of that. He''d severed no connections. He''d given away no piece of his reality, nor had he given up his morals, his honour, his faith ¨C and yet his will was there. His firmness was there.


    Such that he could evenmand divine will, as though it was nothing more than a simple burst of hot air, something that inflicted the slightest amount of difort and temporary pain.


    Francis clutched at his chest. It hurt his heart to see it. It wasn''t fair. It was too cruel. What might, what greed, what was needed to have it all? How arrogant could a man be to drag It all with him, the weight of that baggage, to have the girl, the Gods, and the power?


    That man frightened him. The mage found himself pointing a finger, as hebelled him, "Greed."


    Beam didn''t feel like he was asleep.


    He didn''t feel like he was awake either.


    He didn''t feel like he was sat within the earthy confines of normalfortable reality, nor did he feel he was in the tricky space of the dream world, with its liquid fluidity and rapidly shifting scenes.


    He was somewhere else entirely. Vague thought sat in his chest. The battle seemed like such a distance away. He didn''t feel as though he was struggling to think, but that did not mean that thought came clearly to him either.


    He didn''t know where he was, or what his intentions were. He merely was, just as the room about him was. Upon deciding such a thing, he finally noticed the room about him, as though it had been called into being the moment he acknowledged its existence.


    He saw a chair. Or was it a throne? Now that he focused on it, like ink, it quickly became more of a throne than a chair, with a spiked tall back, ck iron and gold, with a blue cushion and afortable yet high seat.


    He felt a sudden degree of rm, without any reason in particr. A sudden moment of paranoia. He reached for the sword at his hip, as he''d grown used to doing over the past few months, and he assumed a defensive stance.


    But there was nothing, and after a moment, the threat faded. By his eyes, nothing had happened, yet, for some reason, he did not feel as though his gesture of defence was insignificant, even though it seemed as though he had not defended against anything at all.

 Chapter 359: A Greedy Man - Part 2

    After all, if he had not defended them, who would have? Ingolsol? Or udia?


    That line of thought popped into his head as well, unbidden. Though he had no notion of who ''they'' were. Nor what he was trying to protect them from. Ingolsol and udia, they too were names that he did not recognize, but the moment the names popped into his head, the room changed once more.


    There was a sudden distance between him and the throne, a cascading set of steps. He was at the bottom of them, like a knight about to kneel before his king. The throne itself was no longer empty. At least, its armrests weren''t, as two children, a boy and the girl, fought over it.


    "Give it to me!" The boy said. His voice was unusually stern for a child.


    "I will not!" The girl said back in return, prying the boy''s hands off her arm, and quickly trying to shift her rear into the chair.


    The boy grabbed her by her long blonde hair, and without an ounce of hesitation, he pulled, dragging her back. "It''s not for you," he said unkindly. "You''re too weak."


    She cried out from the pain.


    "You shouldn''t treat your sister like that," Beam said to the boy. His words came unbidden, without thought, as though he had no control over himself.


    Only when he''d spoken did the two children finally look at him. The boy narrowed his eyes, and tutted. "And now a mortal intrudes on our battle," he said, with far more haughtiness than suited a boy his age.


    The girl seemed to be of the same opinion. She regarded him kindly, but there was a look to her eyes that made it clear she knew herself to be above him, as though she knew he was nothing but a dog, in the throne room of royalty.


    Before his eyes again, the children shifted. They were older now. Both seemed to be in their teens. The boy''s clothes shifted and changed, and were given shape. ck leather armour, with golden threading running through it.


    The girl''s hair shifted from silver to blonde, as she too grew, wearing a skirt of silver and gold, and a weighty-looking chest te of white steel, and a plumed helmet above it all. They looked at him as kings might look down on their subjects. Their eyes were daring him to say something more.


    When he seemed certain that Beam would no longer interfere, the boy drew his dagger with a smile, and once more lunged his body towards the seat. The girl wasn''t looking, and he managed to get a whole leg on before she caught him, and her silver hammer came after him, chasing him away in dismay.


    "Hehe, you''re too slow, much too slow," the boy said,ughing heartily. "You''re a woman after all. A woman is weak. Why not kneel to me, mm? We both know who wins this battle."


    "I will not!" The girl said firmly, righteously, swinging that heavy-looking hammer with a single hand. Beam wondered how her skinny arms managed it.


    The boy''s dagger shed, and he drew blood, marring her unprotected arms. Another cry of pain, this time she took a step back. Delightedly, the boy went for the throne again.


    "Stop," Beam said firmly this time. He had a foot on the bottom of the steps. Once more the children looked at him, and once more they regarded him as one might regard an insect. He had no ce in their warring, they made that much clear.


    "Your intentions are good, but you would do well not to interfere," the girl said firmly. "This is not your ce. You will get hurt."


    "And you''re weak," the boy said. "Do not trend on hot coals when you do not have the shoes nor the stomach to tolerate it."


    Once more Beam got the sudden urge to defend himself. Once more he lowered himself into a fight stance, as he looked over his soldier, searching for the source of the threat, his full awareness directed outwards, ready to defend against anything.


    But again, there was nothing, only him and his sword.


    They looked at him differently this time. Then they shared a look with each other.


    "Did you just take some of my power, worm?" The ck-haired boy hissed, his eyes narrowed like a snake eyeing prey.


    "I felt some of mine disappear too," the girl said. She looked just as unhappy.


    Beam felt the muscles of his jaw tighten, and a smile rose to his lips. He took another step on the stairs.


    "So that''s what''s going on," there was a sense of profound understanding then. No thoughts passed through his head, he still could not pause to consider his situation, but somehow, that emotion still sat there, as though everything made sense, as though everything was falling into ce. "It''s you two that''s protecting me, is it?"


    They shared a look at that. Their fighting had stopped for a moment. Both their eyes were still on the chair. One wanted it just as badly as the other. Beam could see the hunger in the girl''s eyes just as strongly as it was in the boy''s.


    Beam took another step up the stairs.


    "Mortal, cease your disrespect, remove yourself from these stairs," the boy spat indignantly. Again, the boy appeared older. Beam didn''t notice when the change had happened. Now he was a man in his twenties, tall and imposing, his shoulders broad, his armour heavy, and a sword at his hip now, instead of a dagger.


    "I have love for you," the girl told him all the same. "But this is not your ce. I will be made to strike against you if youe any further."


    She too was older. She was a full woman by now. A startlingly beautiful woman, with purple eyes, and silver hair, and a full two-handed war-hammer now, rather than the smaller single-handed hammer that she''d wielded before.

 Chapter 360: A Greedy Man - Part 3

    The intensity of their stares made Beam''s chest tremble for just a moment. He found himself looking around the room again, as he paused halfway up the stairs.


    The room ¨C or what he had thought to be a room ¨C was far vaster than he had first realized. Or maybe it had simply grown too. It was more like the steps of a temple, some mighty temple, something that one might hear in story books.


    Against those stone walls, me braziers burned, and banners hung, colourless manners, without a crest, as though someone had forgotten to include that detail.


    When Beam looked back again, he found that the steps had grown. There were now fifty stairs between him and the young man and the young woman, and fifty more before himself and the floor.


    He decided to take another step, a grim expression of determination on his face.


    It felt as though he was passing through a ss window. There was enough resistance there for it to have been something physical. Beam grit his teeth, and made his way through anyway.


    Within a second, there was a sword levelled at his neck, and there was a hammer pointed at his side. He''d thought the two of them to be enemies ¨C but for enemies, they seemed to be remarkably adept at working together, and remarkably united in their decision.


    "Is that it?" He asked, as they paused their strikes against him.


    Both were taller than he. The man felt like an eight-foot giant next to him now, and the woman too was close to seven feet, with a sweet scent hanging off her, like the scent that used to cling to Loriel.


    "Loriel¡­" Another memory, another fleeting emotion, pain stung at his heart as he remembered it, and with the pain there came a coldness to his eyes. He looked at the boy, and then he looked at the girl. "Move."


    The silver-haired woman raised her eyebrows in an expression of surprise. The man''s face became a mask of anger, his raven-ck hair ring up behind him, and his golden eyes shining with dismay.


    His sword came at a frightening speed, and it punctured Beam''s side. Beam looked down on himself. His arms had felt awfully sluggish. He''d wanted to deflect the attack before it came, but it was already deep within him, and blood welled from atop the de. Dark, terrible blood.


    The blood that coated him when he awoke all those years ago. Pain assailed his heart again at the memory.


    The blood that had taken his family away, his mother, his father, his sister. The shape of his father''s back as he''d stood in front of them, his arms wide, trying to protect them. The look of despair on his face as he fell, failing in his task.


    A feeling came with that memory, a feeling of importance, as though Beam was missing something. A feeling that he needed to move towards something, despite the pain that ground him in ce, and the pressure.


    It was a feeling of forgetting something, as though there was something he should have been doing right at that moment ¨C but it was more than that. It was not the feeling of forgetting to perform an important task for the day, or an important little yearly event. It was the feeling of forgetting destiny. It was the feeling of forgetting who he was.


    The sword was tight in his stomach, blood dripped to the carpeted stone stairs. Beam took a step, ignoring the giants beside him.


    With the next step, came the woman''s hammer, even more ruthless than the man''s sword. It didn''t wound him, it crushed him, shattering his shoulder, forcing his sword from his grasp.


    Another step, and the man''s sword came again. It tickled his liver. It was a familiar feeling. That lightness of heart that Beam had felt before, it had disappeared. That feeling offort, of calm and rxation, that everything would be fine. That had disappeared.


    With the rediscovery of the something of importance, his heart was as firm as a rock. Not a trace of humour made its way to his eyes. They were fixed firmly on that throne, as though it held the answer to all the questions he''d ever asked and all the problems he''d ever faced.


    The stairs grew longer again, and his blood streamed out behind him. A feeling of rm assailed him again. There was something he needed to protect. But now his sword was gone, and his shoulder ached.


    Heshed out his arm in anger, and grabbed the de of the dark-haired man''s sword, cutting himself in the process, seeding in doing nothing but changing the de''s direction.


    It seemed a pointless act, but in doing it, he felt that sudden pang of terror pass, as though he''d managed to keep his ship afloat for a moment, as though he''d managed to keep his crew alive.


    He caught surprise in the man''s eyes as well this time. Those perfect golden eyes, like a tiger''s in the night, burning like mes and candles. Unchained hostility, unchained animalistic aggression. That there was a ruthless man, Beam''s heart told him that. Nay ¨C it was not a ruthless man. It was the ruthless man.


    He was the embodiment of them all. He was their archetypal form. He was the manifestation of all their power.


    And then when he turned his head, he saw it in the woman too.


    She who wore her beauty like a weapon, whose violet eyes saw the future as ripples on the surface of the pond of the present. She who wielded a hammer with justice, on strict principles, with strict rules. She that would just as soon execute as she would defend. They were both terrifyingws of nature. They were equally as destructive.


    "I see through you," he said to her. "Your righteousness does not fool me."


    He said his words in a quiet, usatory voice. She did not look away. The man pulled on his sword, as a smile twisted his lips. Heughed at that.


    "The mortals that you swore to protect, they scorn you, udia," the man said.

 Chapter 361: A Greedy Man - Part 4

    "I am not udia," she said. "Just as you are not Ingolsol. We are merely fragments of their light."


    "Be that as it may, I do not forget my master''s grudge toward you. I do not forget my purpose in ying you. I feel no love for these mortals."


    "I feel only love for these mortals. But we are beings of the divine. Before all else, we must defend our power, lest we disappear. We have no flesh, no bodies. The moment we yield is the moment we fade away," the woman said.


    Her voicecked the emotion it had before. Now Beam could almost find himself seeing through her. The same was true with the man. They were terrifying for a moment, but now that he challenged them, he saw they were merely fragments of a greater, more beautiful, and far moreplicated picture.


    He tutted in dismay. "Do not hold me back with your fear," he said to them. "I move with purpose."


    He released his hand from the Dark One''s de, and made his way another two steps, before the hammer came for his legs this time.


    "Guilt staggers my heart as you force me to do this," the woman said. "This goes against my nature. But I will not have you kill me."


    "You have no name," Beam said through gritted teeth, as hey upon the cool stone of the stairs. "You have no purpose. You have no nature. You''re merely stained by the colours of what you were."


    No thoughts, and yet Beam''s own words resonated with his heart, in the same way that the truth resonated. It was as though for a single moment at a time, he could tell the direction of the wind, and he could feel its might, and he could wield it like a torch in the dark, to illuminate that which was around him.


    The stairs shrunk slightly at his usation. The throne grew closer. The man of darkness hissed.


    "I AM NO MERE FRAGMENT!" He shouted, lunging at the woman. He grabbed her wrist, his sword came for her neck. She rose her hammer up to defend herself, but she was toote. She closed her eyes as the sword touched flesh.


    "You are nothing," Beam said. The man had been unable to finish his task. He stared at the woman dumbly, as his sword drew a thinyer of blood from her neck. He seemed unsure of himself, not understanding.


    Beam closed the distance once more, and the steps shrank again. In a single step, he was before the throne, his shoulder crushed, his side opened, his whole being bloodied.


    He ignored those two giant beings, despite the wounds they had given him. Beam crawled his way up, reaching a hand for the throne. A shadowy hand stopped it.


    It was only a hand, but it gripped tightly. It crushed Beam''s palm against the blue fabric.


    "My Lord, you seem to bete in returning," there was respect in its voice, and also glee.


    A hand of light, smaller than the dark, reached forward to batter it away. "Leave him, Ingolsol. You''ve already kneeled to him. Show some loyalty."


    "Ahh, but udia, it is simply against my nature to be loyal," the voice of the shadow grew, crushing both Beam''s hand and udia''s beneath it.


    "You dishonour yourself," udia said again.


    "I am honour itself," Ingolsol said back in reply. "The only honour is to be had in victory, as you would well know. If I win in the end, that is all that matters."


    "You speak like you''re him ¨C like you''re the whole. But you''re merely a fragment of him, just like they are," udia said scathingly in reply.


    "A whole, or a fragment, I am what I am. I carry the name Ingolsol, and I move ording to my own intentions. I had no qualms kneeling to the boy ¨C there was worth in it then. He showed something interesting. He made a deal that satisfied me. But now I find those conditions to be¡­ unfavourable.


    He''s made quite the throne for himself, and now that these lumbering goons have wandered in here, and unsettled the bnce of power, I thought I might try my hand at the ruling seat."


    "In doing so, you will kill us all," udia''s fragment warned.


    Ingolsol merely grinned at that. "A few minutes is all I need to satiate myself. A few minutes is my eternity ¨C I work towards their most perfect form."


    With those words, the hand grasping Beam increased its pressure. Beam could feel his bones creaking beneath his grip. Now, when he looked, there was a man there, nearly identical to the fragment of Ingolsol he had seen on the stairs.


    He wore simrly dark armour, and he had simrly golden eyes, with a sword sheathed at his hip, and long ck hair, and a cunning smile. He seemed like him, but he was not entirely the same. He shared none of that gigantic height. At most, this man was six foot.


    There were other details too that were off ¨C his eyes weren''t perfectly golden, there were flecks of something else in there. The patterns on his armour were different, and a shadowy aura surrounded him.


    "Ingolsol," udia said firmly. With her words, there came an outstretched hand, grasping Ingolsol by the forearm, and attempting to pull his shadowy ws away.


    As Beam followed the hand to the woman, he noticed that the same was true for her. She was much like the divine fragment that Beam had seen earlier, but there were differences there as well. Her eyes, and her hammer, and her height. She seemed more of an individual.


    She smiled at Beam as she caught his gaze, a gentle smile ¨C a true smile. Unlike the being that he''d seen earlier, there was warmth in it, and it was filled with respect, approaching subordination. "Fear not my Lord, I will keep him in control."

 Chapter 362: A Greedy Man - Part 5

    "You always attempt to," Ingolsol said, the disdain obvious in his voice. "But chaos is my domain. When the scales change and shift, it is I that hold the advantage, and no one else."


    The pressure on Beam''s hand increased even further. It was a miracle that the bones had not yet broken. Beam could feel the tension running up the length of his arm like a thunderbolt, the pain as numbing¡­ but there was something about the state of his battered body that served to remind him of something.


    Indeed, the more pain he suffered, the more he seemed to remember that ''something'' of importance. He felt more like he was framing the situation right.


    With a motion of his hand, Beam cast Ingolsol off him.


    It was done with such contemptuous ease that it made the man''s eyes go wide with surprise. udia shared that same surprise, but with it, there quickly came a smile.


    Beam dragged himself to his feet, using the throne to steady himself, he drew himself back to full height.


    He was surprised to see that he towered over Ingolsol, who he was sure was over six feet, but here they stood, and Beam was a whole head taller than him.


    With Beam ring down at him as he was, clutching his injured arm, and having fresh blood pour down his side, Ingolsol soon dipped his head in an expression of respect, as an amused smile yed on his lips.


    "It was merely a jest, my Lord," he said, taking a step away. "Merely a jest."


    "A jest gone too far," udia chided. "We both swore it," she reminded him. "As unconventional as it may be, we both swore our loyalty."


    "For a fragment of a mighty God to have to bow to a mere mortal," Ingolsol said, lowering his voice in mock horror. "It still shames me to this day to consider it¡­ but then, we''ve had so much fun, have we not? The games we have yed together, my Lord. The battles we''ve fought together. We''ve both grown tremendously from it, have we not?"


    "I hear you, at times," Beam said. "Whispering to me, demanding things from me ¨C and yet you dare to praise me as your Lord."


    Ingolsol chortled at that. "To have such lucidity, despite sitting so deep within the void, I mustmend you."


    Seeing Beam''s raised eyebrow, udia moved to exin. "Ordinarily, a mortal wouldn''t be able to swim so deeply," she told him. "And yet you find yourself able. You have a thicker rope than most dive with. We''ve never spoken directly, but the three of us are always in conversation. You might feel my intent, just as you feel Ingolsol''s."


    "And what of those two?" Beam said, with a gesture, as he looked down at fragments of Ingolsol and udia that had wounded him earlier.


    "It would likely be best to ask Ingolsol that. I have a feeling that this is likely the doing of his main body," she said.


    Ingolsol chuckled at that, shing a devilish smile. "I can imagine that. A perfectly good idea. If I had as much divine energy as I''m sure he has, I would find myself doing much the same thing¡­ But I will say, his understanding of the situation is likely lesser than ours."


    "Lesser?" udia asked, with a tilt of her head.


    "Lesser," Ingolsol agreed. "Your main body likely has even less understanding. She does not involve herself with such things, this kind of deep diving into the mortal mind. I expect no other such thing has ever happened before. As soon as a fragment like myself worms its way inside, the mortal''s soul copses, and that''s the end of it."


    "But our Lord did not copse when you forced your way inside," udia said, there was an usatory edge to her voice that made Ingolsolugh.


    "Don''t stare at me with such venom, woman, I am what I am. You use a snake of feeding itself. I merely have my impulses, and I have them out. Tost as long as I have away from the main body, that''s something to be said in itself¡­ Regardless. I was meant to destroy this little ship, and I was meant to im that throne," Ingolsol said.


    "And let me tell you ¨C it was never such a grand thing in the past. Back then it was a wooden chair. As was my own mind, my own development. True ws instead of hands. Now look at me, civilized."


    "Civilized is an overstatement, but I understand your point," udia smiled.


    Beam listened to them with interest. He found it strange that the two engaged in such cordial discord, despite his feeling that the two were endlessly warring inside of him. They didn''t seem to be warring here ¨C they merely seemed to be wary of each other.


    "You''ve grown then," Beam noted. There was a degree of fluidity to his thoughts now, though perhaps ''thoughts'' was still the wrong word for it.


    "As have you, my Lord," udia said. "When I first made your acquaintance, this vast hall was no more than a tiny room, with a tiny chair. I too had no clear will of my own, merely instinct, the instinct that udia instilled me with ¨C the instinct to protect you from harm.


    It is you that has nourished both Ingolsol and I, strangers in your body, and it is for that reason that you continue to live."


    Beam frowned at that, thoughtfully. "I feel as though I am missing something. This conversation interests me, but it unsettles me. I''ve left something undone, somewhere, and I can feel it. There''s terrible danger. And what of those divine fragments down there, what of their nature, why are they so different to the both of you?"


    "Ahhh, there we get to the heart of the matter. Always striving, always wanting. That''s the Lord we know and love. Even without knowing, the boy still knows," Ingolsol cackles. "You rarely listen to me, but there''s that emotion in you that I like. There''s that greed.


    If not for that, we would never have been able to understand each other. Indeed ¨C you are missing something important."

 Chapter 363: A Greedy Man - Part 6

    "Do not take him seriously on that," udia chided. "Your bravery is your strongest quality. Your bravery is what subordinated me to you. It was through your bravery that I connected with your desire, and I share a piece of you, just as you shared a piece of yourself with both Ingolsol and I.


    You did the brave thing, with two foreign wills in your body, you took the both of us, and you fed and clothed us, for that, you have our loyalty."


    "Well, not for that," Ingolsol said again. "For the future ¨C only there you have my loyalty. The moment you show weakness, I will take over. I will im your throne. I will not serve a weak Lord."


    "Earlier you did not seem to serve me at all," Beam noted. He also noted the manner of his speech. With the deference that both udia and Ingolsol were treating him with, he felt inclined to speak more regally. The words were foreign on his tongue, as though he was unpractised in saying them ¨C but at the same time, they were familiar, like the recovery of an ancestral secret.


    "Do forgive me for that," Ingolsol said, bowing his head again, and smiling, such that his cat-like fangs protruded from his lips. "It seems that I still do not know the depths of my Lordship''s desires. You have intruders in these halls, intruders that far dwarf both udia and I in terms of power, yet even as they wound you, they could not break your will.


    I think myself a clever man ¨C or fragment, if you will ¨C so I do hope you''ll forgive me for failing to foresee such an oue."


    "None could have predicted such a thing," udia said, in vehement agreement with Ingolsol. "None." This time the word was spoken firmly. "This grand hall that you''ve built, that golden throne. These are grand things for a mortal. But still, they are not who you are. They are not what you are.


    Your Lordship, if I may, I plead caution to you, for I do not know what you are. There sits something inside you that rivals even what the Gods have to offer. Such a thing frightens me, even though there is nothing in this world I should have to fear."


    "Ahhh, so that is what it is," Ingolsol said. "I felt an aching in my wrist, and in my chest. I thought it might have been wounded pride. I see it to be fear, now. How amusing." The man yed with his sword as he spoke.


    Beam spoke up, his voicemanding. "Will you rid these halls of those intruders, then, mine subordinates? Is such a thing within your power?"


    Ingolsol cackled. "We have grown with you, my Lord. We are not mere tawdry scraps of power. We are your sharpened spears, for as long as you can keep a hold of us. They are mere sheets of ss, their wills nk, their intentions unknown. Allow me to spill their blood in retaliation."


    "I too will shed away the intruders, for the honour of your name," udia said. "Please seat yourself, my Lord, and allow me to tend to your wounds."


    And so Beam sat. udia held her hand near his side, and purple light shone around it. With a brief sparkle of pain, and then a moment of warmth, Beam watched calmly as the wound on his side began to fade away. Before he knew it, all the other wounds had gone too, and then his clothes were mended, and then he was given a navy blue robe, and then a crown sat on top of his head.


    By the time udia arose from her task, Beam was an entirely different person. Everything moved in a motion halfway between, and halfway between reality. When he looked again to Ingolsol, he saw that he held a jet-ck spear in his hand, and a dark-bronze helmet sat upon his head, as he stood at the top of the throne room steps, staring down at their foes.


    Beam sat taller now, and felt stronger. Power flowed through his entire body. He felt as though he''d just had a good night''s sleep ¨C the best night''s sleep, and all at once, power flowed through him.


    The earlier difort, the earlier disorientation, and the earlierck of knowing, it all faded away like a bad smell in the wind, and he viewed his problems ¨C those mocking giants, imitations of grand Gods ¨C from the height that the steps of his throne room offered him, with the back of a solid chair to support him, and two soldiers armed for his sake.


    udia too wielded a spear now, a spear of silver-tipped with gold. Her hammer was nowhere to be seen. The divine fragments watched the two of them warily, from their ce at the top of the stairs.


    Without Beam''s attention on them, they had hardly moved. Their faces seemed even morecking in emotion than they had before, and they were stuck halfway between robotic imitations of humans, and mere reflections, incapable of speech.


    "Your unified halls do much to constrain their power," Ingolsol noted. "But what little monsters do we find, mm? Are these not our own Hobgoblins, udia? How amusing. To be presented with a battle of the same type that made us pledge ourselves to the Lord in the first ce."


    "It is not often I find myself agreeing with you," udia said, her smile appearing rather menacing on her pretty face. "A chance in the spotlight ourselves, at times, it does not strike me as such a bad thing. Perhaps we too are growing more human."


    "Perhaps," Ingolsol said with a smile, as he brought his arm back behind his head, pulling his spear with it. "I suppose that is the game the mortals y at ¨C the ying of Gods."


    And then he threw his spear,mencing the battle. His projectile flew at Ingolsol''s divine fragment. It struck Beam as odd seeing it, two beings, that were technically the same being, eyeing each other with such malevolent intent. It was like going to war with one''s reflection.

 Chapter 364: A Greedy Man - Part 7

    The spear was easily brushed aside by the giant. In fact, Beam did not even see it move. It was as though it had been repelled, rather than stopped, as though it was simply too weak an attack to have an effect on it.


    But before Beam could even see what was happening next, Ingolsol had appeared in front of his divine fragment, a being that towered over him ¨C yet his sword was swift and without hesitation, it went straight for the next.


    The divine fragment had enough awareness to show surprise.


    "Our Lord''s domain is our domain," Ingolsol told it. "We swim these waters just as well as he. For we are him, for as long as our bondsst. You have no ce here. Yield yourself to my de, and allow me to drink in your power."


    Even with that element of surprise, his de failed to reach the divine fragment''s skin.


    "Weak," was all the divine fragment said in reply.


    "Howcking in personality!" Ingolsolughed. "I will not be done in by a mere drone. In my presence, in front of my will, you are mere mes, dancing ording to my intentions."


    mes though he might have been, Ingolsol''s weaponry still did not manage to reach him. udia closed in on her own divine fragment from the side, jabbing a flurry of blows faster than the eye could see, all of them striking their target, pummelling her in the chest.


    But as with Ingolsol''s opponent, her attacks showed no effect. There was not even a tremor of emotion on the divine fragment''s face.


    "This one iscking even the will of our main body," udia said. "She has the cruel eyes of a God looking at an insect. She''s primitive and iplete."


    "I imagine the intentions of both our Gods wound their ways together on their way here, blunting each other''s intent," Ingolsol told her. "Frankly, they''re eye sores."


    udia''s divine fragment sent her hammer crashing down. Deftly, udia managed to slip out of the way of it, but she could do nothing about the tremor that such a powerful attack left in its wake, and she was cast aside by it.


    "It didn''t break the stone?" Ingolsol noted, after watching the attacknd, and the hammer pound into the steps, without even leaving a crack.


    And then a momentter, a stream of destruction ran up the steps, sending stone flying, and leaving a fissure that travelled up all fifty of those steps that separated Beam from the battle. The fissure ended just before it could swallow up Beam''s throne. He eyed it with narrowed eyes.


    "Ah¡­ I suppose that makes more sense," Ingolsol said with a cackle. "These are true monsters, after all. Better not let themnd too many attacks like that, udia. Each blow to the throne room is a blow to our Lord himself."


    "I know that!" udia said, biting back a scathing reply, as she once again went to attack the divine fragment, this time targeting her from the back, appearing in her blind spot the same grace that Ingolsol had managed earlier.


    The divine fragment must have predicted it, for already there was a hammering her way. In a whip of hair, udia just barely managed to pull her head back before the hammer shattered it.


    Ingolsol shed again and again at his divine fragment, hitting his upper arm, his shoulders, his hands, his head, and then his back, darting around in a flurry of movement. But each time a blow was set tond, there was a solid inch of thickness before he reached the skin below. He tutted in irritation as a bead of sweat began to form on his brow.


    "Woah there!" He barely dodged the sword sh that came in reply against his attacks, only for the wind of the attack to buffet him, and nearly knock him from his feet.


    "I have to say, Imend his Lordship for managing to take even a single blow from these monsters," Ingolsol said, as he recovered his breath.


    Beam watched their battling with a frown. The more strikes his subordinatesnded, the more obvious the strength of the enemy became. It was as though they were beating hammers against an anvil, or sticks against a stone. There simply wasn''t any reason for their blows to give, for them to have an effect. The magnitude of difference between the two of them was like ants against a bison.


    It was a whole different world.


    And then every time the divine fragments struck back, they did so with such viciousness that it left a hole in the surroundings. Every time they left a mark in the stone, Beam could feel a piece of himself being carved away, as though he was the one who was being struck.


    He understood it to be his will that was getting eroded, from what Ingolsol and udia had said. He understood that, and it was with a degree of rm that he noted the fragments seemed to be only growing stronger, rather than weaker, with each attack that they swung, and each blow that they took.


    They grew to wield their power better, they grew to takemand of more of it. Their only weakness was ack of self. That information came to Beam like a natural fact that he''d grown up with, like it was something that was self-evident. He felt like he''d had such a thought long ago, in a ce different from this one.


    Theycked will, and yet earlier they had spoken to him with arrogance. Now they were nothing more than machines, relearning what it was to be an individual. He didn''t understand that. It was as though as soon as the true fragments of udia and Ingolsol had appeared, they''d snatched away thest remaining dregs of personality from the divine fragments.


    If that were true, did that not mean that they had already dealt them a fatal blow? Was it less about attacking them, and more about taking away from them, and making it his own?

 Chapter 365: A Greedy Man - Part 8

    They''d praised that about him earlier. udia had sworn that he''d have died if he''d done anything other than what he had. If he''d rejected the curse of Ingolsol, and rejected the blessing of udia. Instead, he''d nourished them, and the warring had cooled, they''d fought for his sake instead, whilst still keeping their eyes wide open, holding him true to his path.


    He saw these subordinates of his dance around, fighting titans, beings that they had no business doing battle with. He was suddenly struck by how brave they looked.


    Ingolsol fought like a cat, all pride and mischief. That wasn''t what Beam had expected from him. He had a memory of Ingolsol from another ce, a feeling of him. That feeling had been bound up with fear, an understanding that such a man was evil.


    He wasn''t evil ¨C as far as Beam could see. He was dangerous, without a doubt, but not evil. Beam couldn''t force thatbel on him now that he''d met him. Evil was reserved for something he did not understand, and this Ingolsol he did understand, for there was a piece of him in him, after all.


    udia too, to see a woman battle with such forecity, such intensity of spirit, such a resolute gaze, it was a wonderous thing. Had he been fully conscious, he might have been struck by the sudden urge to marry such a woman, but instead his consciousness was somewhere it wasn''t used to. It was in the ruler''s sphere.


    He felt the crown heavy on his head, and he saw his little domain as a King saw his country.


    Therey two enemies of impossible proportions, chopping up his kingdom. And there stood his only two subordinates, defending them in his name. He sat atop his throne, for that was the ruler''s seat, that was where a man was to give orders. A king was his country, after all.


    With that line passing through his head, he observed. A king was his country, he was a king. He had to repeat such foreign thoughts to himself a thousand times before he truly got a grasp on them, before there was any sort of connection.


    And then when the connection was made, he felt a sh of irritation, as he took his crown off and cast it aside, standing up off his throne.


    A sword was in his hands before he had chance to think about who had put it there.


    His throne faded away before he had chance to think of where it had gone.


    The steps faded away into nothing, like water rejoining water.


    The whole room was rendered nothing but a t expanse of infinite marble floor, and endless void for walls and ceiling.


    Beam was standing shoulder to shoulder with Ingolsol and udia now, facing off against their enemies.


    He was small again. Smaller than both his subordinates, and terribly smallpared to those two divine fragments. He was his normal height, as he was in the real world. He was dressed in the peasant rags that he was so familiar with, and his forearms were covered in the scars that he knew well.


    In that void, Beam allowed the divine fragments to grow.


    They quickly doubled in height, rising to ten feet, and then to twenty.


    And then he allowed them to grow some more. He reached out with something other than his hand and searched for their magnitude with something other than his eyes. He sought that chain of his soul that had bound them in ce, to the size that they were and the appearance that he had, and he severed it.


    Only once they''d passed a hundred feet did they finally stop growing. Now they were not mere giants, they were Titans in the truest sense. Beam had a fondness for that word, a fondness that made him smile a boyish smile, suited for his age. It was a name for an opponent that he had a victory over. He was beginning to remember just who he was.


    The three of them, their collection of odd allies, they were not even as big as the Titan''s toes in their sandals. They were left feeling painfully small on that perfect marble floor that stretched out into infinity.


    "My Lord¡­" Ingolsol murmured.


    "You as well," Beam grinned. "C''mon."


    There was a pause, before Ingolsol returned his smile. "As you wish," he said, in what should have been the human tongue, but halfway through it distorted itself into something far more ancient, and far more unnerving. With his words, so too did Ingolsol''s whole appearance begin to shift. His fangs grew longer, until they ran out of his mouth, all the way down his chin.


    His handsome face changed shape, and the outline of his body grew more vague, more indistinct, until he was nothing more than a vague shadow, with hands like ws.


    "So, you figured it out, did you?" Ingolsol said, his tone less respectful than before, a hint of aggression to it.


    "You were not nearly as monstrous as I remember you to be," Beam said. "Something was missing. You were too weak."


    "HAH! WEAK? THOSE ARE THE WORDS YOU USE TO GREET ME?" Ingolsol boomed, before his voice lowered. "But you are right ¨C in that form, I am weaker."


    "As was I," udia''s voice came. Beam turned to see her. She too had grown indistinct. Vines vaguely mapped the outline of a human body, whilst golden light streamed through their cracks, and a feminine motherly presence captured the air.


    "Do you still kneel to me?" Beam asked.


    "You are no king, you wear no crown," Ingolsol spat. "If I were to kneel to that, I would hurt my knees."


    Beam grinned at that again. He could feel it from Ingolsol now, that aggression, that ruthlessness that had once made his skin crawl, and made him live in fear.


    "I frighten you, don''t I?" Ingolsol must have picked up on it. "We spoke truth, earlier, through those pretty little mouthpieces that you offered us. We are no mere fragments any longer. You have nurtured us. You have made us what you are. The darkness in your body has kneeled in service to me, and it has nourished me."

 Chapter 366: A Greedy Man - Part 9

    "The bravery in you too has kneeled towards me, just as I have, at times, kneeled towards you," udia said.


    "Are these your true forms then?" Beam asked.


    "As best you can imagine them to be," udia said. "And your own form is as best you can imagine it to be. One can always go deeper, one can always be more impressive. You did well to give up a crown so quickly after having been given it."


    "I have fought a man that was willing to give up everything in order to defeat me," Beam said, remembering Jok. Finally, slowly, his memories were reaching him, they were slowly catching up to the present. "When I cannot seize victory, I have no qualms doing the same."


    "There lies your strength," udia said, a hint of praise in her voice. "You are not so simple, sweet one. A boy with kingly potential, a lone lion fighting with a brave heart, a thoughtful man, willing to go deeper ¨C you are all those things. You also know of bnce, of thews that exceed even the Gods. You imitate fluidity, at times, and that too has shown you strength."


    "Yes, yes," Ingolsol said impatiently, cutting off her speech. "You are far too long winded. What she means to say, boy, is that you''replicated. You were a fool for even attempting to grasp all that you were in a single sitting ¨C but you were also a fool not to. The chaotic path, a path of contradiction, I like that. I like the knife that surprises a woman in the night."


    "And I like the sword that surprises the abandoned, by leaping in their defence," udia said. "You hear us, because you begin to know us. We have kneeled in your service, at times. Learn to use us, and we will support you."


    "Or we will break you," Ingolsol said.


    "But in the end, to rival Gods, you must be that which you are ¨C you must be ever-changing. Yours is the style of water," udia said.


    "And I offer to you poison," Ingolsol said.


    "Even then, with all our strengthsbined, I fear it still might not be enough¡­" udia said, as she nced up at the two giants. "Now that you''ve ceased to restrict their form, it makes us better able to fight them¡­ but in turn, you put yourself at great risk."


    As if to ent her words, one of the giants shifted his foot, and a tremor ran out across the white space. If there had been dust, there surely would have been a cloud of it. If there had been rock, it would have cracked. But instead, it was merely that floor of what Beam had assumed to be white marble ¨C it did not crack. The foot merely left a trench in it as though it was sand.


    That slight movement, that slight trench, it brought a sh of pain across Beam''s body as he clutched at his chest.


    udia looked at him in concern. "The battle has not even yet begun, and already they harm you¡­"


    "Your main body has only added to the problem," Ingolsol growled. "Now we have two of the bastards, rather than one. This here is a sinking ship."


    "Yet they are mindless, as a result. The bigger they''ve gotten, the more mindless they''ve be, can you not see? They have no want or will of their own. We have taken it from them. udia''s intent cancelled out Ingolsol''s, and now we merely have two great aurochs lumbering around."


    "Hah! The fact remains, intent or no intent, this is far too much for a human soul to handle. With every movement they make, the boy loses vitality. One would have been better than two ¨C I stand by that," Ingolsol said.


    "Then you degrade yourself. Is size your only strength? Do you not fear a beast of that size with your malicious intent? I would. Far more than these mountains that we see in front of us. We would have been dead before the battle had even begun," udia said.


    "Then we dy the inevitable," Ingolsol said. "We spoke our battle cries, but what do we even do? What power does the boy have that can overturn this?"


    Again, one of the giants moved, and again a foot left an indentation in the marble. Once more Beam found himself clutching at his chest from the pain. He felt sweat gather in a sheen on his forehead. The more pain there was, the more lucid he became.


    "I''m fine," he said, through gritted teeth, as he dodged udia''s look of concern, and Ingolsol''s equal look of contempt.


    But even as he said that, the ground quaked once more, as the giants once again shifted. They seemed to move aimlessly, or at least, aimlessly enough. They were like great lumbering mammoths in search of grass ¨C yet they could see none for miles around, so they merely shifted their feet uneasily.


    This time that mere shift brought Beam to his knees.


    "I TOLD YOU!" Ingolsol hissed. "Damn it, I told you ¨C they''re too much for us. I should have pried the heart out of your ribcage before. You can''t even withstand their movement. How foolish are you, to allow them their true form?"


    "You know that to do otherwise would merely be to dy the inevitable," udia said.


    "Perhaps ¨C but at least those few moments could have been spent under mymand," Ingolsol hissed. "I am power, boy. Just a minute ago, you spoke to me with the affliction of a king. Your tone promised victory, your heart brooked no chance for defeat."


    "There will be victory," Beam said, rising to his feet again. Blood ran from his nose.


    "YOU CAN NOT EVEN STAND THEIR WALKING! YOU''VE MADE A GOD''S FRAGMENT LOOK FOOLISH, BOY! WHO ARE YOU, TO TRICK ME, WITH YOUR PRETTY WORDS? YOU CANNOT EVEN FOOL YOURSELF!" Ingolsol bellowed, shame in his voice.


    He''d been ready. That shadow of trickery and darkness, he''d been ready for battle. He hadn''t minded the thought so badly. His chance had slipped through his fingers like sand. He bemoaned the fact ¨C that golden throne that they had forged together, it would have beenfy.

 Chapter 367: A Greedy Man - Part 10

    But as soon as he prepared his spear, they were all hit with the reality of the situation at once. These were Gods. Huge divine fragments.


    "What has happened, dear boy?" udia asked, her tone kind. "You have released your hold on them, allowing them this more powerful form¡­ But you did so because your soul felt you could handle it, did you not?"


    "Foolish, damn it," Ingolsol cursed. They were all cursing for the same reason. Ingolsol the fragment bore a fragment of the will of Ingolsol the God. It moulded his personality, and made him what he was, just as the experiences of Beam had moulded him into the sentient being that he''d now be¡­ But knowledge was something that they all fatallycked.


    The boy with his seemingly unshakeable will.


    The fragment of a Goddess with her ever-kind and brave heart.


    And then the shadow of darkness that underlined them all.


    They operated on instinct. They did that which came naturally to them. The human tongue was as much a part of Ingolsol as his want for power was. His main body was built by humanity after all ¨C just as udia''s was. He was the embodiment of all the knowledge that they knew consciously, and all that they hade to know unconsciously. Such things were the tools of the Gods.


    As fragments grew, they gained ess to that which the Gods that they came from knew, just as a child might follow the same path of strength as his father.


    Yet this..? A mortal body hosting a battleground for four fragments from two different Gods ¨C with those fragments losing the will of their Gods. It was sheer energy.


    That which they knew guided their earlier shock. The boy was meant to die immediately. Those divine fragments had entered the domain of his soul. The safe sanctity that he''d built, the temple that had kept his soul bnced, even as Ingolsol''s Curse wore on him, and even after he''d passed through to the Second Boundary.


    That was his zone of strength. A ce where even the giant divine fragments could not move strongly. A zone of murkiness, something hard to map, a ce in which Beam had full control.


    But in order to purge those foreign entities from his soul, the instinct to do that came like the instinct to vomit. It demanded that he cast aside the safe sanctity that he''d built up. It told him to use his eyes, and to truly see ¨C to allow things to be as they were, so that he could truly put a leash on them, rather than merely maintaining the status quo.


    Ingolsol and udia had been fed on Beam''s victories. Their own instincts, and their own smatterings of godly knowledge that came as they grew, they had been overturned by the impossibilities that Beam had managed to conduct again and again. Even the very fact that the boy existed at all was a miracle.


    And so when he''d cast aside the curtain, when he''d voluntarily dismantled the walls of his own soul''s defence, and when he had allowed the two fragments that he heldmand over to rise up in their most powerful, and their truest forms ¨C both of them held belief in him without a thought. It was the same belief that came with breathing, or with drinking, a natural thing,pletely unchallenged.


    Again and again, he''d done it. Again and again, he''d run up against the wall of infinity, of reality, of possibility. He''d smashed his skull against it, rattling his brains, out of a desperate desire to merely contain. A will that was once like an overwhelming wave, or a mountain of immovable material. The desire to simply be.


    That which was now slowly but surely starting to form a point, as the boy grasped for the future he desired.


    There were swords in his visions now. The material of his will started to take the shape of a warrior. And then, just recently, another part of him had changed shape as well, forging out of it a banner ofmand, the mantle of a leader.


    Even with that overwhelming will, that which he had relied on again and again, to smite through any circumstance, finally, the cracks begin to show.


    "Gargh¡­" The giants moved again, and Beam fell onto both knees this time. Blood ran out of his eyes, and ears. Both in that domain, as well as in the world around him.


    Ingolsol''s ws curled into an arc, and he found himself reaching for Beam''s heart before he even knew what he was doing. His predatory instincts kicked in. He felt a wall fall, and his body demanded that he move to take advantage of it.


    "Ingolsol," there came a low and threatening voice, as vines bound up his arm, stopping it just before the points of his ws could reach Beam''s chest. "Halt," she said.


    "He''s done," Ingolsol hissed. "For true, this time, there''s noing back from it. Look around you, woman. The game''s up."


    As Ingolsol said, the world around them seemed to be falling apart. The giant divine fragments continued their vegetative shuffle, mindlessly searching for something, but they knew not what.


    Their footprints continued to leave impressions in the ground. Every little imprint was like a knife through Beam''s heart. Pain ran across his face, like nothing he had ever experienced. That foundation that he had always relied on ¨C even that eluded him now.


    A fissure ran through thend of white, as the giant''s shuffling finally cracked that white material, rather than merely deforming it.


    Beam''s face was as white as a ghost, and blood ran down his chin.


    "Look at him," Ingolsol said, his voice a growl. "The going was good ¨C but this is where it ends. I''ve seen him longer than you have, wench. I know his capabilities, I know his strength."


    "How can you be with him so long and still not have a shred of the goodness that he has?" udia shouted back, hammering a wooden fist towards the spectral shroud of Ingolsol''s face.

 Chapter 368: A Greedy Man - Part 11

    "Goodness?" Ingolsol howled withughter. "It''s not goodness that made Beam who he is. You know nothing, woman. Do you think when he awoke, covered in his own ckened blood, with a toothless ver hanging over him that goodness kept him going?"


    "Do you think that when he felt his will escaping him, when his childhood shattered, and he felt the presence of something foreign in him ¨C when he was walled by the confusion of those cursed by the Gods, do you think it was by being good that he managed to keep me at bay?"


    The very notion seemed to reduce Ingolsol to tears of hrity.


    udia could say nothing, as she caught the ws that came searching for her. They chunked into the wood of her green arm, sending up a shower of splinters.


    "He is not a good man," Ingolsol said firmly. "No, he is not. The evil in him runs deep. Far too deep. That is the only reason that he was able to contain me ¨C because he was worse than me."


    "You lie," udia hissed. "You defame him whilst he''s at his weakest."


    "Weakest?" Ingolsolughed. "That is you, woman. He''s always been strong. He''s always been mad. It is you that fears evil. It is he that was able to note it.


    The boy has both. The ocean trench of his soul runs all the way to hell. The peak of his tallest mountain runs all the way to the heavens. He is that which you beings of ''goodness'' admire and praise. He is that which we demons worship."


    "Out of respect for him, I will im his heart, before these others do. Even we monsters have honour," Ingolsol said.


    This time, when his attack reached for her, udia''s arm could not summon the strength to block it. Her limb was there in time, it was true, but there was no will behind her defence. Ingolsol smiled a fox''s smile, as his ws shattered the wood of her arm, and cleaved past her, towards the undefended chest of Beam, as he sat on his knees, his head bowed and defenceless.


    His ws tore through Beam''s shirt, and his hand plunged straight in his chest, toward his heart.


    Blood poured from Beam''s mouth, as he raised his head. Somehow, there was fire in his eyes. He met Ingolsol''s gaze with a grim smile.


    "You''re a fucking bastard, Ingolsol," he said, through bloody teeth. "I should have shattered you the moment I got a chance."


    Ingolsol grinned. A side of Beam that only he was privy to. It had been a long time since he had seen it. Only rarely, in Beam''s worst moments, did the two make conversation. Ironically, the field of battle, bloodied as Beam had been against the Hobgoblin, and against the Yarmdon soldiers ¨C those were not his worst moments, even as close to death as he was.


    His worst moments were in the quiet, by his lonesome, with no hope, no chances. Those were when he was forced to reach down into the depths of what he was, and make conversation with the darkest parts of himself.


    "I win, in the end, as we knew I would," Ingolsol said, as he wrapped his ws around Beam''s heart, and felt his pulse.


    "You win nothing but a falling pile of sand. What a ridiculous bastard you are," Beam said. "Thank the Gods that I don''t understand you¡­ Actually, piss on that. Change thenguage for me, would you, so I don''t have to use your names when I curse."


    "That can be arranged," Ingolsol said.


    udia watched with wide eyes. There was a tenderness to the interaction that she hadn''t expected. Ingolsol, the embodiment of evil and despair¡­ she could swear there was a touch of warmth in his eyes, a touch of regret. She almost felt left out not being a part of it.


    Beam''s eyes found her. "Heh¡­ You''ve a terrible look on your face, woman. Is the real you this righteous? It''s damn annoying to deal with at times."


    She recoiled her face in shock.


    "Damn it, you should be vying for my throne too," Beam said, as he coughed up bloody spittle. "Is it because she''s a woman?" He asked Ingolsol. "She doesn''t seem to understand what we''re getting at."


    "She fears your death," Ingolsol said.


    "Do you?" Beam said, asking Ingolsol, instead of udia.


    "I have longed for it since the moment we met. I am a relentless tiger ¨C it is in my blood to finallyy ws on my prey."


    Beam''s hand grasped Ingolsol''s forearm, and he squeezed, as he ground his teeth together, an intense look in his eyes. "Do not use that word so lightly, Sol. You know what it means to me."


    "Ah, yes, I suppose I do," Ingolsol said.


    "Tiger?" udia found herself asking, dumbfounded, even as hey there, covered in his own blood, she could not help asking that question. Even as she asked it, she found herself feeling embarrassed, as though she were some air-headed barmaid, that couldn''t keep up with the most basic of conversation.


    The two menughed at that. It was as though they were friends. It was the strangest scene. His hand was plunged straight through Beam''s chest¡­ But it wasn''t the scene of a murder. The two had an intense look in their eyes, but there was something there that udia could not understand. It was a conversation that her short time with them did not allow her ess to.


    "Obviously, tiger, you durd," Ingolsol said, grinning. "Ah, how I wish that it was you that had to die, rather than he."


    Beam grew serious for a moment. "We would have not made it so far without her. Though you''re irritating at times ¨C damn it, the both of you are ¨C in the end, I suppose I have to thank you."


    "Thank me?" udia asked confused. "Thank him? But we''re intruders in your body ¨C we''ve made you suffer so much."


    "You''ve given me strength," Beam said firmly. His eyes glowing, and dangerous. They were not the eyes of a man about to breathe hisst. They were terrifying things. Eyes that even made a fragment of a Goddess like her flinch. "Both of you have."

 Chapter 369: The End of All Things - Part 1

    "I am the General of your Dark Armies," Ingolsol said humbly. "I have conversed with the worst parts of you, and I have united them into a force. They have nourished me into what I am. We both gained from this."


    "And she was the General of the Light," Beam said. "We were almost allowed a glimpse of the world through her, and through people. It was far more interesting with the two of you together. Alone, I could have not gone so far."


    "You would never have been alone," Ingolsol said. "Surely you can see them now? You can hear their voices. You never needed me. You would have gone further without me ¨C given time, and given reason."


    He pointed to the walls around them. The walls that Beam had assumed to be mere ck, and infinite void. Now there ran fractures through them, as arms reached through, and voices.


    "Kill, kill, kill!"


    "Break his back, sneak! Break his back! SNEAK!"


    "Frightened¡­"


    Different voices ran out through the cracks, as though from different people.


    "You live in a sea of madness," Ingolsol said with a grin, as he pointed around them. "There''s an army, out there. Monsters ¨C all of them. udia and I, you call us Generals, but we never truly managed to subordinate a single one of them. We were merely their spokesperson. In time, even lumbering giants like those divine fragments ¨C they would have been mere tools for your soul.


    They would only have enriched you."


    "But time ys its games, and we''ve had our luck, our chances," Beam finished for him. "In the dusty pit of that iron mine, we both agreed to see it done ¨C to see the world, and its people, and to snatch their chances for our own. To fight the powerful, and secure ourselves a position. It was not what we imagined. We didn''t think it would take so long.


    But in the span of a few months, the game changed. I am not dissatisfied."


    "Nor am I," Ingolsol said, smiling for the first time, in his true form, as his true self, the embodiment of evil. His smile betrayed his warmth, for a kindred spirit. udia watched in despair, as another giant''s foot came stomping down, threatening to add to thework of fissures, and threatening to destroy Beam''s soul.


    But before the giant could achieve it, Ingolsol did as he promised to do long ago. He squeezed Beam''s heart, and imed his life for his own.


    The moment Beam''s heart stopped, they all felt it.


    As he''d done battle inside his mind, in the depths of his soul, the battle had raged on around him, and his will had been felt.


    Thest of the monsters disappeared in a cloud of ash. The final remnants of Francis'' army. They''d battled it out with the empowered vigers, and the broken monsters who had turned on their allies, and all had been crushed in their wake.


    Those ck robbed soldiers had proved to be weak. Terrifyingly so. They barely let out the slightest whispers of life as they were killed. It was almost unsettling. To fight against normal people after having fought the Yarmdon ¨C it slowed a man''s reflexes, and made him feel ovee with doubt.


    The fact remained that they had been dealt with regardless. All of Francis'' followers that he''d brought with him, both the clones and the main bodies. Their lives had been imed, and then they''d disappeared, in a sea of sludge, as the lifeforce contract that they''d made with Francis long ago finally ended, and he found his power increasing all at once.


    Along with the increases that he''d found as a result of his Domain ¨C which was still hungrily drinking in the lifeforce of all that was natural around it ¨C he was almost drunk with power. He''d arrived at the battle feeling as though he was on the edge of the Fourth Boundary, and now he''d easily thundered through the Fifth, all at once.


    Inside his Domain, where his own magic was amplified again, it was as though he''d passed through the fabled Sixth Boundary as well.


    All at once, Francis seized his progress. Or rather, he seized his power. It made his brain tingle as though it was full of acid. And now he saw it too ¨C the final obstacle in his n. The boy had died. The steady core containing that dark energy of Ingolsol, it had finally lifted, and it was given something closer to a life of its own.


    He shouted out in glee.


    "FINAAAAAAAALLY!" He howled, clutching at his head. "CHILDREN OF THE PAST, CHILDREN OF THE PRESENT! LOOK TO ME, AS I MAKE HISTORY!"


    The vigers seemed to be aware that Beam was dead. Even as the air around them sparked with pure and overwhelming power, they found themselves looking over to the crater where Beamy.


    The aura that empowered them had faded. That godly strength ¨C for it was literally that. It was the tiniest fragment of divine power that Beam had managed to redirect through will alone, and it had rendered them the most Spartan of warriors, the most terrifying of foes.


    And now along with the life of the one that had given them it, it had faded away into nothing, leaving them as weak as they were before, and as tired. Hours upon hours of endless fighting. The vige that they had been fighting for was nearly half reduced to rubble.


    As luck would have it, Greeves'' house still stood. The people thought that to be a good sign, for that building contained their children. But even if it had been ttened, the children would have been fine, inside of its basement. It was only really Greeves'' riches that gained from its protection.


    "Hey¡­ The boy?" Greeves asked quietly, unable to even formte a proper sentence. N sat crouched beside him. His body was still burning hot ¨C she couldn''t touch him. Every time she attempted to, it was like trying to grab a piece of metal fresh from the forge.

 Chapter 370: The End of All Things - Part 2

    But in constion for theck of touch, before, she''d been able to see the steady rise and fall of his chest. Now there was none of that. Her eyes were sharp, the eyes of a hunter. If there was the slightest sign of movement she would have caught it. Yet, no matter how much she stared, there was nothing there but a frightening stillness, as Beamy in his own blood. Far too much blood.


    N couldn''t answer him.


    "Gods¡­ What the hell is that?"


    Francis'' earlier promation had started a storm of mana. It was powerful enough to influence the air. It felt like a cold breeze. The vigers hadrgely ignored it, for such minor things escaped their perception now, in the midst of a hellscape.


    A spell was a spell all the same though, even if ignored. With the magic avable at Francis'' disposal, and the overwhelming amount of mana, he found that he could conjure his will without even chanting a spell''s true name, despite its ringck of inefficiency.


    He''d merely called, as though in prayer, for the children to listen to what he had to say. A dally of a few moments. His eyes had been cast to the sky, but as soon as he brought them to the ground again, from the top of his tower, he knew that the children had appeared.


    There were fifty of them, collected throughout many long years of research, by his devoted followers, who each pursued magic with the same zeal as he, and were willing to do whatever it took to reach the same stage that he stood on. They were the products of much hard work, and many years of nning.


    And in the centre of them all, therey an objective that Beam had spent weeks on.


    "Stephanie¡­" N murmured, her voice a whisper, finally able to draw her eyes away from Beam. At once, two terribly important things had been ced in peril in front of her.


    Stephanie was there, amongst the others, a cor around her neck, and a chain hanging from it. It had the same crystals embedded in it that N had seen when they were searching the viger Elder''s resistance. But the way they were made to stand here, it was entirely different.


    They gripped the chains of each other''s cors. There were two chains hanging off each cor, and in the line of children, each person next to them was gripping those harsh metal chains. It was a horrible sight. Stephanie was dressed in a thin and ragged dress, of the same grey that the other children were forced to wear. Their clothes were too thin for the cold weather, but none of themined.


    There were two boys either side of her, each of them was a head taller than Stephanie. They gripped her chains tightly, unwilling to let her go, their eyes just as lifeless as Stephanie''s were. In a sudden bout of emotion, N found herself hating those two boys.


    Anger boiled up inside of her. She clenched her bow with white knuckles. Irrationally, she hated those two boys just as much as she hated Francis. To see them pulling on the chains around her poor sweet little sister''s neck. She was ready to murder them both for it.


    "So that''s the sister, is it?" Lombard said with a stony calm. He''d seen through N''s reaction in an instant, and he''d understood what he was seeing. He nced at N, and then at the crater where Beam''s unmoving bodyy, and he heaved a sigh.


    Even for a man such as he, with the experiences that he''d had, it was too tumultuous a day to be taken lightly. His tightly bound arm still was trickling a small slither of blood. He''d lost a terrible amount of it. He was lucky to be able to hold his eyes open ¨C he was lucky to even b alive, and yet still he found the energy to look at the battlefield with that calcting gaze of his.


    He searched for solutions, and for answers. A way out of this mess.


    The boy had pulled two miracles. One with the Yarmdon, and then one with Francis'' army. Lombard hardly knew what had happened. He''d sense a darkness that he could not understand. It would be easy to me it on Francis, but to do that would have been to go against his better instincts.


    He sensed that Beam had tampered with forces that went beyond the mortal ken. He didn''t understand what that meant, but he did not dispute their results. He''d achieved something impossible, wielded a power that no one understood, and with it changed the tide of battle.


    The result? A corpse that was quickly growing colder.


    It was a disappointing sight. There was much potential there. He''d sensed that as well as any. But the boy was merely that ¨C a boy, in the end. There were domains that only experience could bridge. He''d seen potential result in more than one implosion of a promising youth, but never quite on this scale.


    "Tolsey," he said.


    "Captain?" Came the reply. The youngmander was still clinging to life.


    "At the very least, I feel we should protect the corpse," he stated. "I know not how we will manage it. Truthfully, I have never felt so lost in my entire military career. We''ve run out of opponents to cut down, and now, we''re merely left with the unreachable. Still, there is my sentiment. If there''s an opportunity to do so, at the very least, we will attempt to pull the corpse to safety."


    Tolsey nodded his head firmly.


    A soldier posed a question, covered in mud and blood. "And our strategy for victory, Captain?"


    "Ah¡­ We''ve lost something far more important than a measly battle. But if you see worth in living, then I suppose, we had merely need kill that mage."


    A poorly timed deration. Francis'' hands were raised, as he yed in a realm that none present could even see. On four towers, around the perimeter of his Domain, all his clones copied his movements, as the children stood lifelessly beneath him.

 Chapter 371: The End of All Things - Part 3

    "Rise," he murmured, delightedly. He was managing to restrain his emotions just long enough so that he could continue with the ritual. There was so much power. So much godly power. Years and years of nning, without the slightest thing to show for progress, and now here it was. That was the road of magic.


    Explosions of power, with mere madness in between.


    He twisted the power out of Beam, feeling its divine energy and its potency. He could feel something mortal in there as well, clinging on to thest remainder of its life, but Francis mercilessly ignored it, and continued to pull.


    The divine energy had a golden quality, much of it. He took care to die it all with the despair of Ingolsol as he guided it higher, ying tug-of-war against the residual will of Beam''s body. He moulded it like a potter, attempting to keep it dense and solid, whilst still offering it shape.


    "Beautiful, simply beautiful," he praised. It was so thick, so powerful, better than anything he could have imagined. It was practically solid now. Like a ck honey that only he could y with. And that thickness was only achieved by stuffing it all into a tiny, mortal body.


    It was an impressive thing. He spared the perished boy just that thought. He''d felt a kindredness to him. He''d felt the favour that udia granted him, against Ingolsol''s will, and he also felt the jealousy that came with it.


    But in the end, there was respect there. A respect that he could not afford to dwell on, for it frightened him. The prospect of a mortal controlling even the slightest fragment of divine power ¨C it was horrifying. The prospect of a mortal resisting it for as long as Beam had, it was horrifying.


    It was too difficult to think on, and its relevance to the problem that Francis had to currently solve was now gone, so he ignored it, and focused on his task.


    The culmination of power, of months of work. That was what he now felt. He''d known it would be like this ¨C he''d known it would unlock a path to the potential that he could hardly fathom. His mind had gone white every time he''d dreamed about it. He knew it was a road to the future that was dangerously potent.


    Had there still been an ounce of humanity left in Francis, with that mind of his, he would have been hailed as the greatest of men. The sages would have calmed his name into their stone tablets, ensuring that it lived on for generations, for the fragility of paper was too much to risk such an important task on.


    As it happened, he was blessed with none of those things. For all his work, there was no reward, save the reward he gave for himself, the rewards that he put in front of him.


    His gold was a power that none could see. They could feel it ¨C but they''d never live to tell the tale of it. His intention was to kill everyone in front of him. He''de to the vige with such ns. It was Solgrim first, and then the rest of the Stormfront. He would tten all those that had denied him for all those years.


    Never personally ¨C or at least, rarely ¨C had his talents been dismissed. It was obvious to see even from young that he would grow up to achieve great things. It was the country that he despised. The country and the Kingdom that did not raise him up before his time.


    The country that wasn''t wise enough to see his true worth, such that he had to reach into the depths of hell just to show what he was capable of.


    It was an interesting thing, for he was sure he''d forgone his humanity. He was sure there wasn''t a tace ofpassion left in him, and yet, his whole rage was founded on thatck of empathy. He would destroy a country for the very fact that he''d been forced to give it up. He would destroy the then. Or maybe he wouldn''t. Francis feared looking so far ahead, even further than he already was.


    He knew there was danger there, beyond power. He knew that any further, and he would lose all semnce of the soul that once was.


    Some part of him ¨C a part that would never again speak ¨C regretted what he had be, deep below the surface, it was a lonely emotion that tainted all he tried to achieve, for he was already a lost vessel, on a lonelyke, never to be retrieved.


    He''d put a name to that only feeling, as he''d looked at Beam. He''d named the feeling without even realizing he was doing so, without properly connecting to the full magnitude of what it meant for him.


    He used the boy of greed. He saw that he refused to forsake his morals for progress, and he pointed a stiff and angry finger,belling that what it was. To achieve ultimate power, Francis knew, one could not be greedy.


    He knew that a man had to give all he had in order to grasp it, even beyond what he had, he had to sacrifice all that was around him for that power, for how else could there be progress?


    Yet the dead sacrificed none of that. The dead was more viinous than he, to defy it all, to im it all, it was too greedy, far too greedy, far too frightening.


    "And so the boy ensured that his life was never uneventful," a voice said, interrupting Francis'' thoughts and disrupting the guiding of that Dark Energy that he''d been toying with.


    A cloaked figure kneeled in the crater by the body of Beam, his straw hat hiding his face from sight.


    Francis gazed at him in rm from atop his tower. He had not even seen the man''s approach. E''d appeared like an apparition. It was not that he snuck up to where he was either, using the shadows to his advantage. It was something greater than that, something approaching magic.


    Francis'' eyes had been fixed in the same spot for a good while, with such an intensity of concentration, that he was sure to have noticed any movements.

 Chapter 372: The End of All Things - Part 4

    And yet he did not. He did not even feel him.


    "Argh!"


    There was a sudden welt of pain. Francis reached for his side with his hand. It came away bloodless, without injury. Even the skin did not betray any sign of hurt. And yet where did the paine from? He nced around him, on an impossible line of inquiry, and he saw it: a doorway as tall as a castle gate had been cut into the ckened barrier.


    With his cutting, there came an affliction to Francis'' body itself. He''d melded himself with the barrier, in more ways than one, so that he might both increase the efficiency of his absorption of the sacrificial material, and also strengthen the barrier against any who might interfere with his task.


    It should have been as tough as a brick wall. No ¨C even tougher. Slowly but surely, Francis was manipting the divine energy into something that he might absorb, and with it, his strength continued to increase. With his own strength, so too should the strength of his Domain have gone up, and yet here he was, an intruder.


    From his shaggy robes, and dark appearance, Francis might have been tempted to think he was Ingolsol, or at least, a part of him. Francis had been calling to the Dark God, after all.


    He''d prepared the Dark Energy for him, he was waiting for him to manifest himself, and grant Francis a true level of power, something that none could take away from him, just as he had before, when he''d granted him knowledge of mana and pushed him all the way past the Fourth Boundary.


    But s, from the way the men below Francis'' feet reacted to him, he was no God, merely a man. Or perhaps something in between.


    "Dominus," came Lombard''s level greeting. It was impossible to tell whether it was a coldness in his voice, ming him for histeing, or whether it was simply his ordinary tone.


    Dominus did not even look at him. His eyes were on Beam, as he put his ear to the boy''s chest, to listen for a heartbeat. N watched him all the while, ncing between him, and then towards N, biting her lip, anxiousness pervading her entire being, alongside exhaustion.


    As Dominus checked Beam over, more people gathered around the edge of the crater, Greeves amongst them. "He''s not dead, is he?" Came the merchant''s question. Again, there was no answer.


    Francis watched it all, as the vigers slowly wandered over, lifelessly, with listlessness in in their eyes. It was as though he had stopped existing. By their eyes, they could not see what he was doing. It had been many moments since he hadst cast a spell. They''d almost forgotten he was there.


    But it was not forgetfulness, not exactly, but an unmatched weariness of mind and spirit that few could possibly tolerate. They''d fought battles men and women of their station were never meant to fight, and then they''d been raised up by a Godly energy, to fight in a form far beyond their means. It was no surprise that they were taxed. It was no surprise that the air was limp with quiet.


    And yet, despite the achiness that had settled in their limbs, and theck of thoughts in their mind as true exhaustion cast a curtain over anything, like a nket of snow, they made their way toward the edge of the crater, like mosquitos drawn by the light of a candle.


    Francis marvelled at it in a rare moment of lucidity. Just above the viger''s head, Francis'' Dark Energy collected, thick and heavy, like magma. They had not intended to, for it was not their purpose, but from the way they stood, it was as though they were worshipping it, just as strongly as he. He found he didn''t hate that.


    He let their goings on happen, as he felt the despair gather in the air. It drifted off them in ckness, like a bad smell. It was pulled in quickly by that globule mass that Francis had been working on, and it added to it.


    They were letting off a greater magnitude of despair than Francis would have thought possible for vigers of their station. By now, they should have already turned into one of the Curse, they should have been mindless. Something, even in the depths of such despair, kept them from hanging and disappearingpletely in it.


    Francis cocked his head, a curious cat. If there was a problem that his mind could freely solve ¨C even if it was not the most important thing in the world ¨C then often, part of his consciousness would immediately fall into solving it, even if it went against his current aim.


    It had happened again there. The boy was dead. He was dead. Francis could see that. He could feel that. When he gathered the magic about his eyes, and enhanced his sentences, he was all the more sure of it.


    He looked in close, and one eyelid was hanging half open, dull and lifeless. There was nothing left in them.


    Dominus sighed, and rose back to his feet. His hat shifted slightly, allowing the slightest bit of light to touch his skin.


    "Dominus¡­" Lombard said, noting the state of him. Half the man''s face had gone purple with the poison. It was cracked and ruined, like the dry fields of abused farms.


    The old knight pulled his hat down further in response to Lombard''s look. He saw the Captain''s expression soften, as though there was understanding there. Dominus didn''t want understanding. Again, he waste. He clenched his fist so tightly that his fingernails tore into the skin of his palm, and blood gathered in the hand.


    "I waste," he said firmly. "I have no excuse."


    Lombard regarded him a moment, and then his eyes widened. He felt it ¨C just the tiniest drop of it, like the crackling of thunder, he felt it. In the instant where their eyes had met, he''d understood. He saw the anger there, of course, he understood that ¨C but he also sensed the power beyond it too.

 Chapter 373: The End of All Things - Part 5

    There was no doubt in Lombard''s mind. The man had done it. He''d done it. After all that time, all those failures, there was finally a knight of Stormfront''s kingdom that had done it.


    Even in thends that surrounded theirs, Lombard knew of no warrior that had even managed to touch fingers with the Sixth Boundary, save for Arthur, but Arthur had fallen too early to properly cross that line.


    "You''ve done it," Lombard said. His voice could not contain his awe. It was the pinnacle of progress. It was the hope of the Kingdom. If the people in the Capital knew what had happened, there''d be months upon months of celebration.


    The tide would shift in the war. Even their King would not be able to help but praise him, Dominus Patrick, the first to cross the Sixth Boundary. Scorned, as he was, rogue, as he''d be, he''d crossed the Sixth Boundary before anyone else.


    And here he was, in his unveiling, the most glorious achievement in thousands of years of their history, unveiled in a muddy pit of blood, in a Northern vige with a name that those from the Capital most certainly won''t have heard of¡­ here it was, amongst a scattering of vigers, by a man that all were sure was dead, until quite recently.


    In the middle of nowhere, with no one to know the magnitude of his achievement, save an oldrade, by the name of Lombard. Realizing that, a sh of guilt ran through the Captain''s heart, and he found himself clenching his fist as well, in a rare disy of emotion.


    He was far Dominus'' inferior, he knew that. Far, far inferior to him. A man of the Fifth Boundary ¨C there was a title worthy of legend, just as Arthur had been for his country. Dominus had been the only living man in their country to carry on that title, making him the greatest warrior to walk theirnds, possibly ever.


    And here, in his sixty-somethingth year, when most men were on the decline, he''d rubbed shoulders with Gods, and managed to snatch something impossible out of the sky.


    "I have," Dominus said firmly, then he nced at the boy. "But in doing so I have lost something important." Again he clenched his fist, and then he opened his palm, to look at the blood. To Lombard he looked more like a young Crown Prince, contemting the future of the Kingdom, than a man of sixty, about to meet his grave. But the poison that ran through his body was undeniable.


    It haunted him like a past mistake.


    "The boy fought well. Beyond well," Lombard said. "I was beginning to get a glimpse of that which you saw in him. I would have given up my life, for his, if I was able¡­ yet my failings brought us here. In the loss of the boy, we have gained something of equal import ¨C your ascendence to the Sixth, it''s in your power now, is it not? The Pandora Goblin, for the good of the kingdom¡ª"


    "No," Dominus said firmly.


    "No? I know you had your differences with the King. I know better than most how he mistreated you. But this is a matter beyond personal differences. It''s for the good of the country ¨C I thought you cared for it, as much as Arthur did, in your own way. Was I wrong?" Lombard said.


    "No," Dominus corrected. "I am not a fitting recement for the boy, he has what Icked. I pushed him towards it, but his aptitude for it was greater than mine ¨C he knows the worth of people."


    Lombard''s eyes widened. "You saw the battle? Even though you were unable to make it to us in time?"


    Dominus nodded slowly. "I did. But I meant not the battle, or the vigers, I meant me. Apprenticing the boy, that gave me this. All else failed. No amount of pain or self-torture, but he managed it.


    He''s more important than I."


    At that revtion, the surprise did not leave Lombard''s face. It took a moment to rx himself, before he nodded his eptance, as he looked at the corpse. "What was it, that made him special?"


    Dominus considered it a moment, locking eyes with Francis, as he stood on his tower a distance away. The mage felt a chill pass down his back. "He had the talent of Arthur," Dominus said.


    "I suppose I''d¡ª" Lombard began to nod his agreement, but Dominus was not finished yet.


    "He knew suffering better than a boy his age ought to know it. That, and his talent, that would be enough. He could have moved mountains with that alone¡­ and yet the boy is stubborn. Painfully so. I know not what cause he clings to. The boy does not even know himself.


    There''s a stubbornness in him that overrides his very soul. I know not what to call it. Perhaps it is a clinging to destiny, or perhaps it is merely peculiar to the boy himself."


    "You praise him highly¡­ You of all people," Lombard said, acknowledging the weight of those words. They were heavier now, spoken from a man of the Sixth Boundary, a man who knew progress better than anyone else in the known world.


    "We cannot lose him," Dominus said firmly.


    "Have we not already made that mistake?" Lombard said.


    "In the darkest void, I found swimming the brightest fish," Dominus said, as he returned to sit beside Beam''s corpse. "I spoke in order to warn you, and help you understand what will follow." With his words, he raised up his bloody hand, high up above Beam''s chest, and then he ttened his fingers into a point like a de.


    "The Sixth Boundary was never a straight line. The path of swordsmanship only went so far. In order to exceed it, I had to look in the ce that we as a Kingdom despise the most," Dominus continued, his hand bloody. N watched him with widened eyes, but more strongly than anyone, it was Francis that watched, and Francis who saw.

 Chapter 374: The End of All Things - Part 6

    "Mana..?" The mage mumbled to himself in confusion. Through the shroud of ckness where the divine will sifted itself into the pure ck energy of despair, he could swear he saw the faintest neon light, flowing like water, around the man''s open and pointed.


    And then Dominus thrust his hand straight into Beam''s chest. Those that watched found themselves gasping. Even the few soldiers that had survived struggled to look.


    Those that knew Beam wanted to call out in dismay, yet they could not. Even as they opened their mouths, a dread gripped them that they could not fully wiggle their way out from. Judas spoke more with his eyes than he could with his tongue, as he saw blood well up out of the hole in the chest that Dominus had punched through.


    Only Lombard managed to keep his face stony, albeit barely.


    "Magic was never meant to be wielded alone," Dominus said. "I believe that now ¨C I believe that, for ites with understanding. A martial base was meant to be there to serve it. Those that achieved such power without the sword to guide it, they sumbed to madness¡­ and those of us fool enough to ignore it, merely because we feared the results, we sumbed to weakness."


    There was an oddly lecturing tone that Dominus rarely took on ¨C or at least, the Dominus that Lombard knew. The Captain found himself listening closely, making note of it. He thought there to be some air of finality to the old knight''s words, as though he was telling all he could, before it was toote.


    "Magic is not the only power, though. Regardless ¨C I do not understand the rest. I merely offer advice. Do not fear it. Do not fear it, I say. Fear impedes understanding.


    Too much, and you''ll have monsters like that, running around," he motioned with his head towards Francis. "Though, I suppose now, by your eyes, I have be something of a monster myself."


    He said all this, whilst his hand was firmly plunged into Beam''s chest, and his fingers coiled around his heart. Finally, he tore his gaze from the crowd, his eyes narrowed, and kept under his hat, he looked down at the boy, at his apprentice, like a doctor looking at his patient.


    "I waster then," he murmured. "When Arthur fell. It seems to me my ce ¨C to exist between heroes, without ever touching the mantle myself. I was a dayte then, as I told you before."


    It soon became clear to those gathered that it was Beam he was speaking to, the dead. These were superstitious vigers that were watching on. Ordinarily, such a thing would have sent them shivering, terrified. Yet now, in the sea of strangeness and hell that they existed in, with all hope of normality cast aside, they dared to hope for something else, they hoped for a reversal of fates.


    "This time¡­ mm, I''d nned toe earlier, I had. I saw you battling. Your sword has improved ¨C but there''s still weakness in your de. It''s still unsure, and unsteady. You''re relying on something else now. I saw that, as I tried to learn to crawl again.


    It took a while. As a youth, crossing udia''s Boundaries used to fill me with energy, and strength. With the poison there, it nearly crippled me," Dominus said.


    "I am toote, but I deal with the darker things now," Dominus said, his voice dropping an octave, he began to beat Beam''s heart, forcibly working it like a pump with his hand. "There''s still warmth in your body, damn it boy. I know you to be a stubborn bastard. You''ve climbed through worse than this. The Gods have interfered, and so we make the Gods tremble. Release your hold on it, boy.


    Allow it all to crumble. I will deal with the rest."


    Only silence met his words, silence, and the horrible fleshy sounds of meat and blood, as the old knight forced blood around Beam''s body. With the blood, he sent through his mana, wielding it as though he had spent years doing it, such was his fine control.


    Only Francis saw, only Francis understood, and he felt the rage boiling in him as he did.


    "NO! NO NO NO NO NO NO!" He screeched. With Dominus'' interference, the divine energy had ceased to leak out of Beam''s body. The change was instantaneous. It was as though the old knight had ced his body inside a capsule. It was a technique that Francis didn''t know, but that was unsurprising.


    The only techniques he knew were those he had developed himself, and those that he was lucky enough to read on.


    Even without full understanding, he understood the implications of the interference. The old man was no ordinary human. He dealt with mana, and the ult. He was a danger. A dangerous thing that had snuck inside of Francis'' domain.


    He gathered the magic inside himself ¨C or at least he tried to. It was an effort to calm it down. His mana pool was a bathtub that was still in the midst of filling, and he was trying to drag it away from the tap, even as the water ran towards him. It was a messy affair. It was a process that was not meant to be cancelled halfway through, and Francis found himself struggling to do just that.


    And still, that globule of ckened divine energy floated, held in ce only by Francis'' will, and a lingering attachment towards Beam''s body. He felt two emotions watching it spin, and twist, and flow ¨C one was regret, that he wouldn''t be able to store it immediately, and the other was anger, at the possibility of his powerful peak being interrupted.


    Regardless, he didn''t feel fear. No matter who stood in front of him, he didn''t fear them. He was unaware of their earlier conversation, of Dominus'' ascent into the Sixth Boundary, but if he had heard it, he would have scoffed. Francis knew he had already long since exceeded such things. His crossings through the Boundaries weren''t known to him, for they didn''te with udia''s blessing.


    His was a power that ran parallel to it ¨C but regardless, he had an intuitive sense of it, after so long pursuing it, and he knew himself to already be the most powerful man in the Kingdom, without a doubt.

 Chapter 375: The End of All Things - Part 7

    Dominus continued to pump Beam''s heart for him, as he ran his mana through him.


    "Gods¡­ no wonder," he mumbled to himself, as his hold reached deeper into Beam''s body. He''d known the Gods to have interfered. udia''s whispers had told him as much, the moment he crossed the Sixth Boundary. But he didn''t know the extent to which they yed. He felt what N had felt earlier, that she was reaching her hand into a forge.


    But Dominus did not reach out with a single finger, he reached out with every nerve in his body.


    His words gradually grew quieter and quieter, until he no longer had to speak aloud, for he was quite sure that Beam could hear him, even as he spoke inside his head.


    ''Come on now boy, rescue it from the wreckage, bind it all together, you have the will to, don''t you?''


    ''This was not meant to be your first battlefield¡­. If only you knew, the true state of the world. To quest against mages and monsters, at the age you are¡­ I saw you take the Yarmdon pup''s head. A man of the Third Boundary, in the end, was he not? You do not need to waste away here. You''ve suffered enough.''


    "Gugh¡­" That was the only sound they heard from Dominus, after a long minute. Lombard had found himself nervously ncing towards the mage atop his tower. He was clearly wrestling with something, his eyes were wild, and his hands were animated. The shouts he gave were angry. Then, Dominus coughed, and everything seemed to change.


    With one cough, there came two more, as ckened blood ran down the front of Dominus'' tattered clothes.


    "Dominus, leave it ¨C don''t deprive the world of yourself, attempting to resurrect the dead," Lombard said.


    "Not dead," Dominus said, finally opening his eyes, for the first time, his voice hoarse. "The dead cannot be revived, but a stopped heart, for a few minutes¡­ It does not seem to be the end."


    Or so Dominus was learning. With his new found magic, it was as though he''d put on a lens that allowed him to see the world in a different light. Vaguely, he''d grasped for it, unsure what results it would yield. He''d plunged his hand towards the boy''s heart merely on instinct, merely because he felt the power of his newfound ability.


    He had not known what results exactly it would yield, other than the fact that he felt he could achieve it.


    ''The divine energy incubates, keeping the soul in a stasis, as it continues to burn it away,'' Dominus noted, words and terms that he''d never in his life considered, but now he had ess to, as a result of stumbling through the door of the Sixth Boundary. Concepts that he''d interacted with before, but never truly grasped, they now had names, and urgently, he put those names together.


    With the cough of ckened blood, he reached through the fire, and he hit a stone wall.


    "Gugh¡­" another cough, worse than thest two. It seemed to shake his entire body. He felt as though he''d just run headfirst into a city''s walls.


    Clumsily, he slowed himself down there, finally grasping at something that resembled the boy that he once knew, something other than that painful all-consuming fire. He grasped for a way in, searching the walls for anything that looked like a door. Instead, what he found was more equivalent to the iron of a castle gate.


    He put his hand on that gate, and he was forced to grit his teeth. It was all he could do not to cry out. If the heat of before was the heat of the forge, then this here was the heat of the heart of a volcano, the heat of hell, he could feel his very being melting away just by staying in contact with it.


    ''Gods¡­ Gods¡­ Gods¡­'' he cursed to himself. He''d assumed the heat from before to be the divine energy ¨C but this was it. Locked behind the iron gates of Beam''s soul, he''d locked as much of that godly energy inside of him, for the sake of hisrades.


    A shadowy figure appeared atop the wall in Dominus'' mind''s eye.


    "What are you doing, old man? These here are the fires of hell, and you stand in front of my keep," the figure said, and Dominus knew it to be Ingolsol. He could feel the waves of malice passing off the being, dark and binding.


    "Ie not for you, but your master," Dominus replied.


    "I have no master, ashes give no orders," Ingolsol said bitingly.


    "Open these gates, and he will return to you," Dominus said.


    "Hah? How do you suppose that? Do you know tricks to revive the dead?" Ingolsol asked.


    "The very walls and this very gate are proof of his life," Dominus pointed out.


    There was a pause at that, as Ingolsol went silent. "I have no control over these gates ¨C open them as you will, and you will burn to ashes from it. You think yourself strong, mortal, but you know nothing of the fires of a God."


    "The dealings with Gods and the dealings with death, they''re best left for the old," Dominus said. "Beam, you made me a promise, did you not? In return for my teachings, you would y the Pandora Goblin in my ce. Do you intend to go back on your promise? Or do you look down on me, now that you have proven yourself worthy? Do you think I cannot withstand the same mes that you have?"


    "How can he speak, when his body is inmed?" Ingolsol saidzily. "You were toote. It might have been fun, had things been different. There was carnage and chaos to be reeked. But you were toote, be content with mes, and be content with ashes."


    But even as Ingolsol spoke, the gates opened.


    Dominus found himself smiling. There it was, the will that was Beam. His will was not a conscious thought ¨C it never could be. The mind was too fragile to endure what he had. Nor was it a product of his soul, even the soul would have been stained and corrupted by the malice that Beam had endured, and the malice that he had felt.

 Chapter 376: The End of All Things - Part 8

    The being that was Beam was deeper than both. It was the silent longing of the wind, as it swam towards the unreachable mountain tops. It was the hope of the stream, as it ran towards the sea.


    The gates opened, and a vast city, burning in me was revealed. The heat hit Dominus all at once. He braced himself. He felt his fingers burning, and his flesh melting, but he did not pause as he attempted to drink it all in.


    "Dominus¡­" Lombard muttered, unnerved by the silence. Even he could sense a change in the air, despite hisck of ability in controlling mana.


    Even the vigers could tell something had happened, as Dominus stood crouched over the boy, his eyes closed in concentration.


    After a few moments more, he slowly removed himself. His hand came out of Beam''s chest, leaving a trail of blood with it. The man stood. The body of the boy did not move. No one dared to say a word.


    Dominus nced over his shoulder, towards the mage. Lombard caught a glimpse of his face, a sight enough to force a sharp intake of breath. The poison had spread. It had spread terribly. All but a single circle around his right eye was dyed purple.


    "Is it done?" Lombard asked.


    "Not entirely," Dominus said. "That mage must be dealt with, before he acrews more power."


    Francis felt Dominus gaze on him, and grit his teeth so hard that they might have shattered. Hatred filled his eyes, hatred for that man. Francis didn''t know exactly what he did ¨C in fact, as far as his eyes could tell, nothing was happening. The divine energy had merely ceased to move. It went no further than that.


    Even without evidence of it, Francis felt it, on an intuitive level, that something had changed. Even if he could not see it yet, he wound the power that was still left in his body, and he sought to bring an end to that man, before he could bring about any further change.


    The mana within Francis had finally begun to stabilize. He regained control of it. He gathered it at his fingertips, where he knew how best to use it. With those fingers, he pointed towards Dominus, and began to gather up a storm of his fury.


    "I had better move, lest our battle affect the boy," Dominus said. With those words, he slowly began to make his way out of the crater.


    The battlefield was silent. Only dull eyes met his words, dull eyes and a vagueck of understanding. They looked for Dominus, and then back to the boy, who was still lying just as still as he was earlier ¨C only now there was a hole running straight through his chest.


    N ¨C being closest to him ¨C reached out with shaky fingers, to touch his head, and then his neck, to feel for a pulse. She could feel nothing. It was hard not to look at the horrific wound as she worked.


    The others looked at her, a question written on their faces, but she shook her head, mildly, as exhausted as the rest of them.


    But then she saw her fingers, and where they were ced, gently cradling Beam''s cheek. It was not the embarrassment of the gesture that astounded her ¨C but theck of heat. She looked up sharply, realizing that, but Dominus had already strode too far away for her to notice the question.


    "Do you require assistance, Dominus?" Lombard asked.


    "None," Dominus said. Though, even if he had wanted it, there would not have been a firey audience waiting for him. The heart and will that they had all disyed earlier, it was long gone. All that was left was a dismal void, and a field full of corpses.


    The moment the fighting had stopped, their bodies had begun reminding them of the rest that they craved. Many found themselves crouched on a knee, in the cold slushy snow, their legs hardly able to support them.


    The want and will had gone from them. It had been too long. Too much striving. Fields of battle, grand emotion ¨C there was nothing left. They''d burned through a lifetime of drama within a few hours. They were nothing more than empty shells now.


    And so it would be so, for Dominus. Even when there was an audience, finally gathered to watch him as he performed his grandest feat, that audience was not receptive to it. That audience could hardly hold their eyes open. They did not even have the energy to feel anxiety anymore. Theirs were the bodies of the mother moose, after days upon days of being chased by wolves, shielding her young from them.


    There was no more energy to resist. Only rest, even if that rest meant death.


    Dominus'' sword appeared at his side. None could have said when it appeared there. His movements had long since been magical, even before he discovered mana. His trick was simple speed, but for the human eyes, they were all the same.


    It was a curved de,rge in his hand. His was an unremarkable body. A man of average height, dressed no differently than a peasant, his clothes wide and billowing, and ragged from long use, his straw hat obscuring his face, so they could not even dimly remember he that would have the courage to save him.


    When the first wave of magic hit, Dominus was already far away from them.


    It was ice again. Ice was what Francis felt himself most connected to. Ice for his frozen life, and his frozen heart, a past that he would never be able to move on from, and choices that he would never be able to undo.


    The ice came down in pirs from the sky. Before, his spells had merely been icy spears, pointed enough to shatter houses ¨C but these were the size of mammoths, and pointed just as deadly as the rest had been. They plummeted from the sky like rain, a dozen of them, all channelled towards the same spot.


    If any of the observers had had the energy, they would have noticed that Francis'' clones had disappeared, along with those other towers. It was unlikely that even Francis knew that they had been cancelled. Such was his intent as he burst forward with all his might at Dominus. He knew it on an instinctual level ¨C this here was a dangerous man, one that demanded his whole attention.


    Perhaps even more than that.

 Chapter 377: The End of All Things - Part 9

    "DIE!" Francis voiced, a single word, tinged by a spray of spittle, a handsome man, marred by his own erratess.


    But all his icy attacks had achieved was a cloud of dust and obscurity. Dominus emerged, unfazed, his sword still calmly by his side.


    "Juvenile," he told him, his voice betrayed no anger.


    That single word was enough to cut right through the heart of Francis'' being. It was the same look that he had seen others give him, men of higher status, the old professors that had seen promise in him. It was pity, mixed with something else. Was it disappointment? Whatever it was, it was an infuriating concoction.


    Francis had the might of the world at his fingertips, or so he felt. His mage was only limited by his imagination and his efficiency. Hisck of known spells did not prove to be an issue any longer, for he did not need thefortable scope that a spell provided. His mana was so vast that he could simply force his magic into existence.


    "EARTH HANDS!" It was not a spell, it was merely the image that he had in his mind. He wanted to crush Dominus like the bug he was. He wanted to demonstrate the difference in power between him and the man in front of him. The difference between Francis the Mage, and those dogs that followed the traditional path, those that had scorned him.


    At his words, two hands of earth ¨C three times the size of a man ¨C sprung up out of the ground, either side of Dominus. Before the vigers could even register what it was they were seeing, the hands pped angrily together, without a shred of resistance.


    A brief pause.


    The briefest.


    Even the anguished vigers, so devoid of emotion, so tired after such a long ride ¨C even they were beginning to feel something now. They''d followed the battle with their eyes without particrly intending to, without real care for the oue, but now they felt the slightest emotion crawl back in. Anxiety for that man¡­ and possibly hope.


    But the hands only stood for as long as gravity allowed them to. The sh that dismantled them both seemed to have been executed by something even faster than Francis'' magic.


    The tops of the fingers of the Earth Hands slid off, falling to the ground with a mighty crash. Dominus continued walking, unscathed, towards that tower where Francis stood.


    It was not speed that Dominus needed to finish the man off. It was not the race against time that it had been a few moments before. Instead, it was more like fitting a key into a lock. He solved the puzzle in front of him carefully, and as he did it, he solved the one behind it as well.


    "WHAT MANNER OF MAGIC DO YOU WIELD, SWORDSMAN?" Francis asked in dismay. His eyes had been unable to follow what had happened, even after he had enhanced them. But it was not his eyes that failed to track the movement ¨C it was his mind. He had not existed in the same martial realm that Dominus had, he could not hope to swim in those waters, nor understand their depths.


    "Magic? That was simple swordsy," Dominus said, as though he was informing a child. "You''ve gobbled yourself a vast amount of power, mage, but you''re missing the ingredient that makes it all tick."


    "The ingredient?" Francis asked quietly. For a moment, those words hit him with a profundity. He''d opened his eyes with a wide panic, as an anxiety assailed him, and he rushed around all four corners of his mind trying to find something that he missed. But quickly his calm took over ¨C or his madness ¨C and he dismissed it. "YOU CANNOT DISTRACT ME WITH PETTY WORD GAMES! I WILL CRUSH YOU!


    CRUSH YOU, I WILL!"


    Dominus sighed. "This is the sort of man your country could have had a use for, Lombard," he said, speaking back of his shoulder. Though he was quite a distance away by now, his words reached the Captain. Lombard found himself looking at the mage with a frown.


    "Indeed," he thought. "I would have a use for that, in the same way, a man needs a solid trebuchet for a siege."


    Francis cast another spell in fury, he knew they were mocking him. He started to y with more of the elements now, things that he had been unable to tap into before, before these long preparations, and before this vast power. He hit Dominus with fire.


    He swept his hand aside, and a tsunami of me blossomed in front of the path that Dominus walked. Dominus paused in front of it, as though rmed ¨C but there was a grin on his lips. He stepped through it without further hesitation. Not even his clothes caught ame.


    At this, the vigers did gasp. They''d managed to summon the barest fragment of an emotion that they did not have the energy for. Their hearts began to realize what it was that their eyes were seeing ¨C a master at work. The strongest warrior in all of Stormfront. They did not know it quite in those terms, but their heart put it in other words for them: ''to the front, there stands a great man.''


    It was not a suspenseful fight, like that they saw from Beam. There was no will, no passion, no frantic pounding against the doors of fate, demanding that they be let through. This was the chill of seeing a master at work, someone unparalleled in his profession, and none felt those chills greater than Tolsey and Lombard.


    "FOULNESS! TRICKERY!" Francis said in dismay, horrified to see his powerful magic cast aside so easily, as though it was nothing more than a sharp breath of cold wind, something to be ovee merely by tolerating it.


    "Trickery?" Dominus said, regarding the mes. "There''s no strength in this. This is mere ordinary fire. Do you only know how to increase the size of your magic? Have you not strength?"

 Chapter 378: The End of All Things - Part 10

    Francis ground his teeth together in annoyance, but on that front, he could not deny that Dominus was right. It was a zone he''d neglected. The power of the magic. He puzzled on it, his calmer, more calcting self taking over for a while, as his madness still continued to rave on the surface.


    He''d never attempted to increase the strength of his magic, other than increasing the size, and the speed, what did it even mean to make it stronger? What did a stronger spell look like? What was more suited tobat?


    Speed¡­ That definitely seemed an area of improvement. More important than size.


    He brought up his hands again, and attempted to form swords. They came out half-formed ¨C he could not manipte the steel as he''d wanted to. He had no understanding of the structure of it. It tainted his magic. The best he was able to do was form iron spikes ¨C steel swords were beyond him.


    Yet these iron spikes gathered in the air anyway, even as Francis reflected on a sudden limitation that he''d grasped from his magic. He''d assumed that more mana would simply mean more results, that he could ovee any boundary ¨C but here he was, unable to make swords, for his mind had no experience of the forge to draw from.


    His flock of needles set off like a barrage of angry birds. He''d let them sit in the air for a second, before casting another spell behind them ¨C a great gust of angry wind, cast with the force of his down swung arm.


    Dominus merely continued to walk in the face of the attack. The spikes neared him, and then they passed him. Only Lombard and Tolsey were able to see him twist his body to avoid them, his movements so impossibly fast.


    ''But this isn''t the strength of the Sixth Boundary, is it?'' Lombard wondered as he watched. He was sure it wasn''t. In fact, he was sure a man of the Fourth Boundary could have performed the same feat.


    "Your little spikes are no different than a storm of arrows. What good is your magic, if you only increase your volume? Against a man that is your better, numbers do not suffice. You will not chisel through granite with wood, no matter how many stakes you make throw at it," Dominus said, finding himself lecturing.


    It was an odd thing ¨C in the past he''d hated the idea of taking a student, and now - even though he had not taught his apprentice directly in a short while ¨C he found that teaching had be more of a habit now. A different way of looking at the world. Even in the midst of what ought to have been deadlybat, he could see nothing but wasted potential.


    Again, Dominus'' words caught Francis at a blind spot. Matters ofbat were not things that he''d considered. Power was all he was concerned with. To conjure fire ¨C that was power. To raise up terrible monsters, like Hobgoblins and Konbreakers ¨C that was power. He''d assumed that merely adding to that power, merely growing more magic, that such a thing would make hisbat prowess stronger.


    Dominus'' words interrupted his thoughts. "You are not trained inbat," he pointed out. "You were foolish to expect that mere power would be enough to level your hand at any task you sought to perform. And perhaps it might have, if you were stronger.


    But that is the trouble with your sought of power ¨C you either hand yourself a crushing victory, as everything arrives frighteningly easy, or you''re as weak as a newborn, for you have no grasp of the fundamentals, and no means to improve."


    Francis was halfway in his mind, yet he raged on the surface. "DO NOT SPEAK DOWN TO ME! NOT TO ME! YOU WILL NOT! I HAVE THE POWER TO CRUSH YOU ALL AT ONCE! I DO!"


    "Then why don''t you?" Dominus asked. "All this conniving and nning. If you''d merely picked up a sword and swung it, you could have seen progress. You could have forged these ult ideas of yours together with the de. You would have been a sight to behold."


    "NGGHHH!" Another storm of ice, as Francis found himself pressed into a corner, and he relied once again on what he knew. This storm was directed at the unprotected vigers, who watched on with haggard eyes.


    They saw the storm of icicles approaching them, but they did not have the energy to resist it. They were mere observers in their own bodies now ¨C there was no energy to do anything else. They waited upon the finale of the grand show, for the end to a story that was no longer theirs.


    They did not even close their eyes as death approached. They''d lived enough lifetimes in that single night, that even the fairest amongst them did not flinch from death.


    But Dominus was in front of them a momentter. What he did to the icicles was almost art. He left them as a stream of powdered crystals, harmlessly drifting down, as they reflected what little light the darkened world shone in their direction.


    A magnificent feat, and for Dominus, it was easy. He sighed.


    "Your nning, it seems, was stronger," he noted. "These monsters, the clones, this ckened dome. It all had a strength to it. But the boy managed to defeat it all, long before me. There''s no danger left in you, is there mage? Or do you have a way of suddenly masteringbat, mm?"


    Francis'' eyes went towards the frozen ball of divine energy, as it paused outside the body of the boy. Only half of it was out. He didn''t know what had happened to the rest. He didn''t know why the show had paused.


    "You''re right¡­" Francis realized, breathlessly, in a sudden moment of lucidity. "That is what I am chasing¡­ Universal power. Why should I be satisfied with merely being good at one thing? Mathematics ¨C to merely be good at that¡­ Quitemendable. The sciences? That would be excellent¡­ To be the very best at both, that''s only natural.


    But see, why stop there? When there is power to be obtained, why not grasp it all? Why not be the very best at all of it?"

 Chapter 379: The End of All Things - Part 11

    He spoke eloquently, and lucidly, like an entirely different person than before. His eyes were calm, and if one ignored the strange twitching of his cheeks as he spoke ¨C a symptom of his prolonged habits as a madman ¨C then his handsomeness shone through. He even seemed like a model intellectual.


    The motivation for that sudden bit of sanity was right in front of him, as he recalled the reason why he was there in the first ce. More power ¨C that was always the answer. Or at least, now that he was in the position he was in, that was the solution. Before it was more knowledge, cleverer solutions, different angles. But the game was done ¨C he''d done all his nning.


    The vigers felt themselves exhausted after a night of battle, several lifetimes worth of struggle. But for Francis, it was even longer. Years upon years of maddening pursuit had led to that which he now saw in front of. To dare to hope for an end to it all, perhaps that was what fed his madness.


    He reached for the divine energy, stained ck now, and he called to Ingolsol.


    "MY LORD! BEHOLD! I HAVE SET THE STAGE FOR YOU! ENLIGHTEN US WITH YOUR PRESENCE! THIS POWER IS YOURS ¨C PURIFIED BY YOUR ESSENCE! CLAIM IT!" Francis said, in a sudden burst of religious fervour, as he shouted at the sky.


    Dominus looked unimpressed. "If you were able to hold your mind for even a moment, your potential would have been unimaginable. I have seen youths like you, scarpering around the city, with the same greedy look in their eyes. They dismiss morals ¨C they state that the timid man who lets his morals lead him, they say he''s a fool, a coward, and a weakling."


    "And to a degree, they''re perhaps right. To be faced with a difficult choice, only to run and make no choice at all ¨C that''s weakness. But in you, I see the path that I instinctively shunned. The body breaks itself. There are some crimes that we cannot forgive ourselves for. That will never be overwritten.


    I see only death in your eyes. You''re a ghost of your own ideas."


    It was only Dominus'' words that met Francis'' cry towards Ingolsol. They came cold and merciless, like nails in his coffin. The silence stretched on ¨C still, Ingolsol did not respond.


    The grand finale that Francis had been hoping for, it did note.


    That one moment, all those years ago, that had shifted the course of his life. When he had in his family, and Ingolsol had acknowledged his sacrifice. He''d built ns on a single assumption: that Ingolsol would respond once again, if only his sacrifice was greater, and the conditions were perfect.


    Such conditions could not be more perfect. Francis had over delivered. He''d sacrificed far more than he ought to have for the results that he desired. Yet the sky was silent.


    A Dark God watched, a venomous smile on his face, as he saw the trail of despair begin to flow out of Francis, denser than anything that the vigers had been able to excrete. It ran out of him, thickening the air, as Francis'' mind ground to a halt.


    "It did not work, then," Dominus said. His voice was not gloating. There was only pity there, as though he had expected such an oue. "You would have made a fine pupil, if we had met earlier. In different times, perhaps your name would have been spoken in awe, rather than in fear."


    The despair continued to pour out of Francis as he looked up at the sky, waiting for his God. ck and thick, it reached that puddle of hanging divine energy, and sparked it back to life, as it began to twist and turn once more, flowing into the streams of his own despair, and once more filling him with energy.


    Dominus noticed it at the same time Francis did. Dominus sighed, shifting his stance back into something more ready. "Come then, let us end this."


    Francis'' hand hardened into a fist. He pulled the divine energy towards him all at once, finding that it flowed him far more willingly than before, as it mixed in with the despair. A whole stream of it ran towards him, crashing into his nerves like electricity. It shocked him with a tremendous amount of power. Dominus watched, half-expecting him to crumble.


    "Hoh¡­" He said. "The two of you really aren''t that different then. To both be able to withstand the divine energy¡­ Though I suppose you have that dark power to support your soul from crumbling."


    Francis remained crouched, as he drank it all in. A gauntlet sprang up on his hand ¨C heavy ck iron, covered in spikes. He wore it well. His hand did not fall.


    Dominus observed, without interrupting, as more and more of the divine energy ran towards Francis. He cast an eye back to Beam. He saw N''s mouth fall agape, as there was a sudden spurt of blood, and Beam''s heart began to beat once more.


    ''I was never much of a strategist,'' Dominus thought with a wry grin. ''But I hope at least you''ll have caught a glimpse of my one and only clever n.''


    He continued to watch as more divine energy flowed over to Francis. Instead of his knees buckling, the mage only seemed to grow stronger. His thin face thickened out, and his eyes had a light to them that they didn''t before.


    "Finaaaaaaaaaaaaaally, this damnable mage shows he has some use, after all," came a voice, as the mage stood up, his shoulders straight, and his arms thick with muscle ¨C and yet more energy continued to flow to him. Armour ran up the length of his arm, giving him shoulder tes, all ck and spiked on both arms, and then a chest te in the centre.


    "Ah¡­ I suppose that was outside my expectations," Dominus sighed. "A strange world. I pity the boy. When this is done, he''ll have no idea what normality is. He''ll think it''smon for Gods to walk among us, and mages, and monsters."

 Chapter 380: The Promise of Dawn - Part 1

    "If he survives? A bold assertion. Does that mean you mistake me, Dominus? Are you not the prized dog of my enemy?" The mage regarded his armoured hand, turning it over as he felt the weight of it. It seemed he was satisfied, though it was impossible to tell.


    The divine energy continued to flow towards him. Dominus had not anticipated that so much would manage to make its way over, not without a copse of some sort, some kind of dispersal. But, as luck would have it, that was exactly when Ingolsol chose to make his appearance.


    "The Curse of Despair," Dominus said, more to himself than anyone else. But the others heard, those that were watching finally understood. N called out to Beam, as his heart continued to beat, and finally breath was drawn into his lungs.


    "Indeed, a fitting ending, do you not think? That was how that boy''s story began, and that is how it will end," Ingolsol said.


    "And the mage?" Dominus asked.


    "Gone," Ingolsol said, gleefully. "You defeated him without even swinging your sword. A rare victory for you, is it not?"


    "I would not call this a victory quite yet," Dominus said, he ented his words with a point of his sword. "You''ve disturbed quite the many lives, God of Despair. It is only fitting that I remove that head from your shoulders ¨C even if it is a mere ghost of your true form."


    "Attempt what you must, mortal, but know that udia sees through my left eye. You''d be ending her as well," Ingolsol said, and then heughed at the expression on Dominus'' face, as he froze in a pause. "Always doubt in you mortals, always doubt. Though my mood is pleasant, so I will dismiss it for now. Come,e, let us y. This has gone on far too long.


    If we do not hurry, soon the sun wille up, and the people will begin to forget the true heart of the nightmare."


    "Dominus..." Lombard began a question.


    "A fragment of Ingolsol, I''m sure you''re aware," Dominus said, without turning around. "Through the Curse he inflicts on them, he''s able to have them carry out his will. Though, this is the first I''m hearing of him properly manifesting himself."


    "Do not tter yourself. This is merely a drop of blood, from mine and udia, united in a delightful vessel tinged with despair. You''ve seen something like that before, have you not? Ahh¡­ yes, you''ve been toyed with by the Gods a little, haven''t you? Did Pandora not pay you a visit through the guise of her Goblin? Tut tut.


    Falling to something so soft ¨C the country had expected better of you."


    Dominus said nothing, but his face had hardened into stone.


    Thest of the divine energy ran its way towards Ingolsol, as he was finally allowed the opportunity to take the stage. Francis life was snuffed out as mercilessly as a candle in the wind. The power that he reached for, and endlessly filled himself with, had quickly bitten back.


    He died a death that many would im worse than dying. The Dark God that he worshipped consumed him. In the moment that Darkness flooded his body, and he could find no respite in his madness, he found only fear.


    He heard Ingolsol''s voice for the first time, and it was like a knife to his soul. The God that he had loved and cherished, who had offered him what he had, the moment their souls made truest contact, and he heard themand to "kneel" terror consumed all that he was.


    He had thought he''d known the danger. He''d heard the whisper of Ingolsol many times before. But never spoken in his soul like that, never threatening to consume his being.


    He found himself wondering how any could have resisted that merciless power, and he came to the conclusion that none could, and so he died, in a fit of despair, his consciousness hanging around just long enough to see Beam draw his first breath.


    "Ah¡­" he said, in a whisper of what remained of his voice, as Ingolsol''sughter boomed in his head. "So there was a difference between us after all.


    The difference between the darkest night and the brightest dawn, was the gap the world was created between? Was it the strength of the brightest stars that gave the greatest warriors their strength, or was it the deepest darkness of the world''s most imprable caves?


    The Stormfront people knew a tragic and war-torn history. A story only toomon in too many ces, and too many times. The people did battles with the sword for tens of thousands of years before the first God could im to have given them that power.


    Of course, they still knew their Gods back then, just as the men of the current day know theirs. But there was never power granted by them, at least, not power that the men could see. It was their own bodies and minds that gave them their strength, their own spirits, their own aims.


    The first God that the ancient scriptures write of is Pandora. She who saw the first veil of evil, a thin line of terribleness that ran on the edge of everyday life. She noted the burned viges, and the fly-covered bodies, and when she reached out, she found that those corpses were the ends of her own fingers.


    Not in the sense that they were truly her hands, but they were part of her. The evilness ran through her. She understood her position, knowing that she had always been there, ever since man first drew his sword ¨C but it was only at that time, all those thousands of years ago, when she first made that thought.


    She imed the evil of wars, and made it hers. She felt no emotion as she sculpted it, and gave it a face. She shaped green flesh, and gave it yellowed eyes ¨C she did not even give it a name.


    And so came to be the Pandora Goblin, and so came to be the chest upon its back, as man after man was in by it. The culmination of their''s evils, a creature of deceit and trickery, a goal to be ovee, for the ultimate good, or whatever vague notion they had of it at the time.

 Chapter 381: The Promise of Dawn - Part 2

    Pandora soon developed, as her Goblin developed. Her tendrils grew more varied in form, as she gave birth to more of the monsters across the world, as powers of different sorts became more essible, as the emotions and heartache of thousands of years of warring were giving a more concrete form, with Divine energy, and Gods, mana, and everything in between.


    Unchallenged Pandora went, for thousands upon thousands of years. She was the soul evil that their knew of, and even then, she was evil in an innocent sense, in the same way that man regards the poison snake as evil, for it has in hisrade.


    The rise of Ingolsol urred sometime after. A nk spot in history. In truth, it was all a nk spot in history. The theologians ¨C and the greatest of warriors, for the distance between the two was lesser than it might have been elsewhere ¨C inferred these dates, through their observing of the world, and the responses that it gave them.


    There was a time, in their history, when the west did burn. When mes rose up, nearly as high as the ck mountains, as they licked up into the sky.


    It was a time of catastrophe. A great ball of fire, in the night sky, sent crashing down towards their sandy shores.


    It hit, and in an instant, thousands upon thousands of lives were snuffed out. Those that lived back then learned to curse the fire, for it burned for many days, taking all that was green and savoury, every drop of life that they''d known.


    And then, when the floods came, they learned to curse that too.


    When the very earth beneath their feet cracked out, and fissures formed, swallowing up whole towns, they cursed that as well.


    Despair began its whisperings.


    It was then that the theologians found their first sighting of Ingolsol''s influence. The God of Despair, as he soon came to be known, for the curses he inflicted upon people, and the souls he stole, as he damaged them through their knowledge of the future.


    It was then that they first knew of him, but none of the theologians dare to im that he was not older. All the evidence seemed to point to this single origin, this great disaster, a period of fifty years that left the country teetering on the brink. If a single one of them had the courage to point a finger at it, and say ''this is when Ingolsol arose'', then all around him would have to agree.


    But they never did.


    The reason for that? It hasn''t been put into words. Or at least, it hasn''t been put into words that anyone has yet recorded, or words that anyone has dared to speak.


    But if one is to tell of Dominus, if they are to tell of the rise of the Dark Hero Beam, then he has to brave the dangers thate with prodding a stick into the terrifying fires that belong to Ingolsol.


    For it was indeed fear that stopped the theologians from speaking of it. Rational men could not even bring themselves to put their pens in their inkwells, and make an attempt at a conclusion. The fear was too great.


    Knowledge requires perspective, and if a man is to engage in dangerous knowledge, he should know what it is that he is getting himself into.


    Of all the Gods, there was none with a more clouded history than Ingolsol. For all his trickery, he seemed to be a son of Pandora. And yet, from what they knew of Gods, the most powerful were those that stood as a symbol of a more isted branch. Aplicated line of thought, but in practicality, it proves more simple.


    If there be a God of War, strong, and filled with mighty divine energy, enough to put him amongst the ranks of the very strongest, then a God of Battle ¨C as a newer addition to the ranks of the Gods ¨C would know lesser strength, for what he represented wasrgely covered by someone else.


    So it came to be wondered ¨C though none, for reasons they could not express, dared to ask it aloud ¨C just why was it that Ingolsol supposedly wielded such power? Why of all the Gods, including udia, did it seem to be Ingolsol that could interact most freely with the mortal realm?


    Was he, as a Dark God, not a simple son of Pandora? Did he not walk the same path as she? Should he be not limited by the power that the older more ancestral God had already drunk up from him?


    Always pictured on a throne, always with a crown near him, in any that dared to express his visage in a painting, out of some twisted desire to gaze into the void, the most feared of all Gods. The hardest to understand.


    The mere Curses of Ingolsol ¨C the tiniest of fragments that ran up in corrtion with feelings of despair ¨C they were enough to send the soldiery into a panic. A Cursed Being that had lived for longer than a week was enough to notify the King. It was enough to summon the generals over. It was a natural disaster like a hurricane.


    The man ¨C or fragment, as he was ¨C that Dominus faced off against, he went beyond a national-level threat.


    If any militarymander outside of their battling hadid eyes upon the scene, his blood would have left him. He would have abandoned his post on the spot. It would have taken a Great General to ensure that his men stood their ground. Even then, victory would have been uncertain, if even impossible.


    The King would have been sent into hiding. The nearby town of ckwell would have been evacuated. All that were strong would have been sent to do battle against this being, this natural disaster.


    Even the air around Ingolsol seemed to know that was what he was. He''d morphed his own features into Francis''. It was as though someone had suddenly presented Francis at his best. All of his handsomeness remained, with none of his frailty. His face was filled out, his height taller, and his muscles thicker.

 Chapter 382: The Promise of Dawn - Part 3

    The sky crackled with lightning from his presence. A great gust of wind began to blow.


    So much power, in one ce. The closest a God had evere to walking on the Earth, and already the ground creaked beneath his feet, unable to sustain him. The air thinned and became harder to breathe. When he swung his sword testingly, the lightning ran from the sky, towards its tip, as nature itself kneeled before the mighty.


    And this was only a single drop of Ingolsol''s blood.


    "Ahhh, to be mortal," Ingolsol grinned. "You y so eagerly in the divine, and look what it gets you."


    In a single moment, all that Francis had worked for, it had been seized from him. All that power ¨C enough power, he was sure, to overthrow the Kingdom, and all its Generals ¨C and it had been taken from him with a single impulse from Ingolsol.


    But with the taking of Francis'' life, there came the return of Beam''s. His chest closed up in front of his, as did some of his most minor wounds. He was even able to open his eyes just a crack, as he attempted to look at the world around him.


    That brought an incredible amount of pain with it. Not just pain of the body ¨C for on the surface, all his wounds had been healed ¨C but a scorching pain in his mind, and in his soul. He felt as though he was holding everything that he was together by his fingertips. He had to grit his teeth to contain himself.


    "Beam!" N cried out, seeing his eyes open.


    The vigers did not stir at her cry. They were transfixed by Ingolsol''s aura, frozen in ce. They were smitten by the sudden desire to kneel, and the desire to give their hearts away. It wasn''t despair, not this time, for despair had abandoned them long ago. It was a simple acknowledgement.


    Even as that desire to knee flooded through them, they did not move. Only a handful were able to.


    "He''s alive?" Greeves asked, cautiously, a mere two steps away, but those steps felt like a journey of a thousand miles amidst that crackling atmosphere. He had to raise his voice to be heard over the wind.


    "Awake, boy?" Dominus asked, sparing a brief nce over his shoulder. His face was calm, even as the poison ravaged it. All Beam could manage in return was a nod. "Then watch, and see what it is that I have learned. I make it a gift to you, by way of apology for myteness."


    Ingolsol smiled a wry smile. "You stand before a God," he said. Casual words, spoken without any apparent anger, but the will in them was clear. The pressure that the observers were already feeling increased twofold. The vigers copse to their knees, one by one, ovee by the need to prostrate themselves before the mighty. "And yet you take up such casual conversation.


    So the boy lives, does he? Quite the cunning trick you''ve yed, Dominus."


    "You will not get at him again," Dominus said. The clear threat in his tone made Ingolsol''s smile widen.


    "Rx. I have no intention of it. The game has already been yed out. If the boy lives, all the better¡­ Though, from the looks of it, he''s teetering on the edge there, is he not?" Ingolsol pointed out. "That looks like a fractured soul to me. I wonder if he even knows where we are, mm?"


    "I know¡­ you¡­" Beam said. The voice from his lips made Lombard''s head whip round, as he narrowed his eyes, studying him. Tolsey followed the look, simrly disturbed. Beam did not notice, he could not. From the pain, it was all he had in him to stay awake.


    Dominus could not deny himself the satisfaction of a smile, as Ingolsol raised an eyebrow. "Now that there," the Dark God said, returning Dominus'' smile, but for an entirely different reason, "that there will be a problem. You''re quite sure you want to gamble on letting that live, are you?"


    "Quite sure," Dominus said, icily. "I will free you from that body towards that end," he pointed his sword, making his intention of starting clear.


    "¡­Why?" Ingolsol couldn''t help but ask, holding up his hand for a brief moment of pause. "It is mere curiosity, oh dog of mine enemy ¨C but still, why? Why did you go to such efforts? How did you know that he would turn out to be interesting."


    That gave Dominus a moment of pause, before he realized something in surprise. "You weren''t able to tell?"


    Ingolsol did not answer him. "Hm. Well, I suppose that intuition might be a part of what makes you mortals interesting. Although I can say now, quite confidently, it''s the wrong choice. The boy is broken. There isn''t a step forward from this."


    Ingolsol''s reasoning then ¨C he was not to know ¨C would soon match the same reasons the schrs would give, when they tried to exin the sudden rise of the Dark Hero Beam.


    Within Ingolsol''s words there contained two points, beyond just the fractured state of Beam''s soul, after being zed by the divine fire that Ingolsol had wrenched through him. He pointed to the boy''sck of reality. There were no steps forward for him.


    He''d crawled in the dirt for years after surviving his envement, and his near-fatal wounding. He''d continued to exist with the curse of Ingolsol on his shoulders. He knew nothing but filth, andbour, and struggle. All the life he knew was at the bottom of the very darkest pits.


    And then, as though to scorn him, his path forward was not a natural one. His progress, and his opportunities, were almost as maddening as what Francis had sought to conjure. For a master, the boy had been given the strongest man in the country.


    For his first battle, the boy had warred against the Yarmdon elite, and he had led a contingent of three hundred vigers towards that cause.

 Chapter 383: The Promise of Dawn - Part 4

    In the same night, he had confronted a mage of the rarest kind. He''d done battle against magics that most would never see in their entire life. And then he''d been plunged into the suffocating world of divinity, pulled apart by the smallest thread that Ingolsol had attached to him.


    Such things were the tools of madness. Such things were not what progress was meant to look like, not ording to the teachings of udia. Progress was a process of careful struggle. To be greeted by the most extreme of extremes the second a sword was put in his hand ¨C it was unnatural. It should have been devastating.


    He knew nought of knighthood, truly. He''d never been amongst the true military, sve for Lombard. He had never even set foot in a city. And yet he''d seen such extremes. He had no foundation for which to exin what had happened to him, no course through which to integrate it. His life seemed like a terrible mistake.


    To Ingolsol, a God that had watched thousands upon thousands of years of human interaction, he knew Beam to be an anomaly. He knew the events of his life to thus far be entirely unstable, and it was with prior knowledge that he condemned the boy to death.


    It was only with the benefit of hindsight, when the schrs found wrought the results of all that Beam''s life had ended up being, when they saw all that he would go on to do, that they pointed to this crucible of madness.


    There came ¨C through the lens of a single man''s life ¨C a profound understanding of the tightrope of being. The nature of what was required to make such a monster. Always on the edge, always the impossible, always warring.


    There was only a single body in history capable of bncing all that Beam had done in that night, all that he had endured, and all that he had achieved, rtive to the strength and knowledge of the world that he did them at.


    Ironically, it was through Ingolsol''s own urse that Beam had developed the grit to endure it. That instinct for bnce, as he entreated with the fragment of the Dark God inside him.


    Ingolsol cast the boy away from his mind, and away from the future annals of history, for he, as much as everyone else, could not see the true weight of that single fragment he''d inflicted on that boy all those years ago.


    And so Dominus said, with confidence in his chest, "I will send you back to a ce where you can watch, and you will see it to be true. You will know the foresight of a mortal to have exceeded yours. And then we will have won, again, just as I intend to now."


    Ingolsol lowered the palm that he had raised earlier to stop Dominus in his tracks, and he clenched it in a fist.


    The Dark God regarded them. He looked at the boy, at the warrior, and at all those vigers that had survived their battle, and he pointed a finger.


    "It clings to all of you," he said, in a voice that could have been a whisper. "Those golden strands that udia cultivates, like you grow crops in your fields. There''s worth to you, the type that can''t be cultivated in a sword school, not even in ten years of training. Congrattions, mortals. You''ve survived."


    "I am not such an evil God, after all. Despite the twistedness of my heart, I cannot find it in myself to eliminate you all ¨C and so, out of respect for your kneeling towards your superior, I will offer you all a new lease of life, just as udia does. She has her tests, I have mine. I will im you passed, and you will go forth for me, as soldiers of Ingolsol.


    You will wear ck armour in my name, and you will inflict the same knowledge on these civilians. The same knowledge that you have learned here tonight."


    Dominus'' eyes hardened. He knew the Dark God spoke not of Blessings, but of Curses. That was his way, that was always his way.


    "And if I y you here, tonight?" Dominus asked.


    "Then you will die," Ingolsol pointed out.


    "Hah, you think my death frightens me, Ingolsol?" Dominus said with augh. He spoke the Dark God''s name without fear. "People fear death, because they fear loss. I no longer have anything in this world, save my name, and that too, I leave to my apprentice. See it done, Lombard."


    Lombard''s eyes widened, as he realized the significance of what his superior was saying.


    "¡­I''ll see it done, Dominus," he said, with a bow of his head, a show of respect. The man could barely breathe.


    "You have wrought iron there," Dominus went on. "Boy, I leave you in Lombard''s care. Listen to him, and walk your road to greatness. I will be watching, do you hear me?"


    Beam''s mind was a mess of pain. He felt as though a hundred pairs of hands were all wing at his brain. He had to squint, to focus. He heard Dominus, and could just barely process what he was saying. With that understanding, there came an emptiness in his heart that almost rivalled the pain in his head.


    "Yes¡­ master," he said, for what he thought would be thest time. He bit his tongue, as he made the greatest effort to continue. N gripped his hand tightly, reading the pain on his face as though it were a book. "I will¡­ seize¡­ it."


    Those were the only words that he could force out of his mouth. Small words, enough to be said quickly, but for Dominus, their meaning was enough.


    "Seize it all, boy," Dominus said. "Seize it all."


    And then he turned his back on thempletely, on the vigers watching, on Lombard, his oldrade, on Tolsey, as he stood mute, on N and Greeves, who watched, uncertainly. They saw in him, more than a man. Judas ¨C a man who knew nothing of soldiery until recently ¨C could suddenly see the honour in it, mixed up in a golden hew.


    Those few stragglers that knew of soldiery, they saw much the same, but they saw too beyond it, for many knew of Dominus'' past, scorned as he was by their king.

 Chapter 384 The Promise of Dawn - Part 5

    Dominus removed his straw hat from his head, and allowed it to fall slowly from his hands, drifting down towards the battered and frozen earth.


    He reached up for the topknot that held his salted grey hair in ce, and he allowed it to swim down to his shoulders for what would be thest time.


    He cast aside the oversized grey goat that he wore, with the length to it making it seem like a cloak, and with it he threw away his shirt, until he was nothing but bare chest, trousers and sandals in the cold winter air.


    The poison ran across his back like a dark tattoo, his scars mixed in with them, telling the story of his life, and the many battles that he had fought, and won. The purple coated everything now. Only one of his arms was free from it, and then, only partially.


    Even as corrupted as his skin and body had be, the poison could not hide the density of his old muscle. Well into his sixties, the man''s back rippled with power, each muscle easily definable.


    Not even Ingolsol mocked him. A thousand jokes threatened to trip from the Dark God''s lips, as they always did, but none came out. His face was hard, and his disposition respectful.


    Finally, Dominus slid his second hand onto his curved sword, as he held it out in front of him. Then, formally, in the knightly way, he introduced himself.


    "Ie to you, as Ser Dominus Patrick. Rogue knight by the king''s title, scorned by the king''s tongue, I stand before you, a disowned man ¨C a dead man ¨C but for the first time, a true knight. I draw my de for the people, in Arthur''s memory. Fragment of Ingolsol ¨C mage Francis, by the justice of a king that I despise, I do sentence you to death," Dominus said.


    With his words, there began a change about him. Beam clenched his fist tightly, seeking to keep his consciousness, as he desperately fought against the pain in his head, so that he might see his master''s final battle. He squinted, seeing only through one eye, he saw as the man gradually let loose all those restrictions that he had put on himself to contain the poison.


    The first thing he noticed was the movement of the purple. It flowed like an oily sea. It swallowed up the rest of the clean skin on him in an instant. It was not a slow process, it was an angry one. The instant that Dominus lowered his guard, it was on himpletely.


    It spoke to Dominus'' years of resilience, in keeping such a poison at bay, knowing that to let it free for an instant would be to give up his entire body to it. But now he did so dly, now his whole body was stained with the poison of Pandora, and with it, burst forth his true power, his aura rippling off him like a wave. Explore more adventures at empire


    It burst off him, enough to drive up a wind.


    It was entirely different to what Beam had expected, seeing what he had of Lombard, and then Gorm and their auras, and their strength. Then he''d seen Francis'' strength, overwhelming as it was¡­. But Dominus'' was different.


    It had all that power, the power to uproot a vige, and copse a tree, as it sent the wind spinning around them¡­ but for all that power, there was an awareness to it that Beam hadn''t felt elsewhere.


    It was as though there were needles hidden amongst the air, as though a thousand eyes were checking him, noting him, and threatening to send forth the full extent of Dominus'' power with pinpoint uracy.


    The vigers were forced to tten themselves, as the aura rippled off Dominus. Ny on Beam, as though to shield him, whilst she shielded both of their eyes as best she could, whilst still allowing them to see what was happening.


    Even Ingolsol had surprise written on his face, as he felt what it was streaming off Dominus. "¡­I might have underestimated you," he admitted. With that admission, his own hand went to his sword, as he grasped it in the same two-handed grip that Dominus had in his.


    Ingolsol''s sword was longer though. From the length of it, most weapon masters would call it a greatsword, but in Ingolsol''s hands, it looked no more than a longsword. He held itfortably in his well-muscled arms, as he sent his own aura back at Dominus, and lightning crackled in the sky.


    Dominus drew in a breath, and his power began to abate, as suddenly as it hade. The wind stopped, the pressure went with it. The air was suddenly unnaturally calm, unnaturally still. Not even Ingolsol''s aura reached them. It was as though they sat in the eye of a hurricane, for they saw the debris being tossed around behind the Dark God, and knew that he had not let up.


    With a sh, Dominus was in front of Ingolsol.


    In the next moment, there was a tter, a booming of thunder. It was hard to tell whether it came from the lightning, or whether it came from the meeting of the two great des. Dominus'' strive drove Ingolsol into the earth, as the ground cratered beneath him.


    Lombard could hardly breathe. Better than anyone, he understood what he was seeing. He''d managed to glimpse Arthur in battle once before, a man of the Fifth Boundary, and his strength had bordered on magical¡­ But what he saw in front of him was something else entirely. The strength to deform the verynd around them with a single swing.


    He understood it then, why all throughout history had stopped at the Fifth Boundary. It was a gate, and whaty beyond it was frightening.


    Ingolsol was forced to yield to the strength of Dominus'' strike. He took a step back, allowing the de to sh down through the air in front of him instead, as he pushed his way out of the crater. He realized with rm that he had not been able to overpower the man.


    Even as he sought to escape, Dominus was on him once more. Not a single move, not a single motion was wasted. Beam''s eyes widened, drinking it in. It was the very same skill that he was trying to master, that Dominus had led him to all that time ago, only, this was executed to perfection.

 Chapter 385 The Promise of Dawn - Part 6

    His sword slid down the length of Ingolsol''s long de, as the Dark God twisted it to angle the attack off to the side, but even as Dominus was falling, he was already throwing a low kick, using the momentum that Ingolsol had lent him, and spinning into his next attack.


    His foot caught Ingolsol''s calf. There was a thudding sound, like an axe into wood. From the grimace on Ingolsol''s face, anyone could see how much it had hurt him. Again, the Dark God was forced to step back, on shaky feet.


    It was quickly bing clear where Dominus'' advantagey. His technique eclipsed Ingolsol''s by order of magnitudes. The Dark God was good ¨C far better than a man who had never trained in his life, but he was not the master swordsman that Dominus was. He could never hope to match that kind of efficiency.


    The efficiency was something that Dominus had hammered away at, year after year, as further power was denied to him, as he was forced to remain in the Fifth Boundary. The limitations from the poison only increased that efficiency, as using more of his power than he ought to would only result in his death.


    The product of his circumstances was something frightening.


    And then Ingolsol called down his lightning.


    It wound around his ck de, charging it in a blue and purple, just before Dominus sword struck it next. From there, there was a great sparking, and a terrible crackling, with an impulse that forced the two apart.


    Smoke arose on Dominus'' arms, as his purpled skin was coloured ck in ces. The old knight did not even lower his eyes to acknowledge the wounds, he was still staring off against Ingolsol, readying his next attack.


    The Dark God allowed himself a smile of satisfaction. His divine energy needed not to be limited by mere swordy. It was pure power, of the sort that Francis had sought to wield ¨C only of a higher order, more maluable. He could just as freely wield magic as he could wield thendscape around him, as he could wield death.


    And all the while, Beam watched, with a single awed eye. This here was a being that Beam could not even stand in the presence of, lest it burn his soul to the degree that it did ¨C and yet he could sense it, despite his wounds, the tide of battle was well in Dominus favour. He exuded a near-limitless strength.


    "I will whittle you down, mortal," Ingolsol said. "Strong though you may be, I deal in dimensions you cannot fathom. Limited though my choices of weapons here might be ¨C I''m still infinitely more variable than you."


    Once again he caught lightning on his sword. It streamed down towards the steel in a bolt of blue from the sky. With the sword raised above his head, his ckened de greedily gobbled it all up, and then it hung there, as tamely as an energetic hound, running up and down the weapon in undting currents, but never harming the master that wielded it.


    With the lightning on his de, Ingolsol knew himself to be the stronger man. Dominus'' sword techniques were superior, but now he could not even catch Ingolsol''s de, lest it harm him.


    Once more, Dominus was in front of Ingolsol before the onlookers could react to his movements. The slightest twitch of Ingolsol''s arm showed that he''d at least managed to track it, and put his sword in the way in time.


    Dominus'' de came in, cleaving towards Ingolsol''s shoulder, but the electrified sword was already there, ready and waiting. To touch it would be to injure himself unduly. Instead, it was Dominus'' leg that struck out, once more chopping into Ingolsol''s calf, as his de just narrowly avoided the lightning, and he allowed it to be swung off to the side.


    The Dark God grunted in irritation at the attack. It widened his stance more than he would have liked it, but he did not move back. Again Dominus kicked him, and then again, as though he wasn''t wielding a sword at all, as though his legs were all he had.


    After the third kick, Ingolsol was finally forced to draw his leg back. The tension that left his arms as he did so showed his frustration. He''d wanted to hold his ground, and use his lightning sword to swing an attack of his own, but he couldn''t see the opening, and was instead made to look defenceless.


    Again, Beam watched in awe, and he learned. What he knew ofbat came down to flow. After the first kick, he would have expected Dominus to spin off into something else ¨C but the swordmaster was wiser to the ways ofbat than he. He knew the worth of all things. Even a beginners attacking sequence had its ce, provided the fighter knew what he was doing.


    Continue reading at empire


    Dominus'' understanding was of that level. He was able to send the same attack over and over, walking a tightrope that even a beginner should have dodged, opening himself up to possible deadly counter attacks ¨C but all the while he was in control.


    The movement looked the same, but the battle the two men had been fighting, merely with their eyes and with their minds,, it was of an entirely different sort to what an amateur could hope to wield.


    With annoyance, Ingolsol tutted to himself. "Your title is well deserved, mortal. I see now why udia held such an interest in you. A man can sense your discipline in your de ¨C you''ve spent thousands of hours performing the same attacks, making them into the weapons that they are today."


    "But you see, like Francis¡­ I scorn that, just a little. Not as doggedly as he did, for he was a fool, and I have ten of thousands of years of knowledge to guide me away from foolishness. No, I believe in something else¡­ Ah, let me show you, instead."


    The Novel will be updated first on this website. Come back and


    continue reading tomorrow, everyone!

 Chapter 386 The Promise of Dawn - Part 7

    A flick of his wrist, and Ingolsol''s sword swung, his face a mask of confidence. Even being cut back as he was, after the difference between the two of them was made so obvious in the realm of swordsmanship, his arrogance hardly abated.


    He was several metres short ofnding an attack with the edge of his sword ¨C but he didn''t need to, for the lightning that he''d kept there leapt from it, and like a bolt ¨C far faster than Ingolsol himself was capable of moving in that form ¨C it shot off from the end of his weapon, and thundered past Dominus'' side.


    With a line of blood, hended the first significant strike of their feet. His smile widened in satisfaction. His teeth were frighteningly white against the dark of the night.


    "Do you see?" He asked. "How amusing is it, that you have spent tens of thousands of hours honing your de, and I''m able to dismiss it all, by fighting in a realm you have no idea of?"


    "Amusing," Dominus agreed, with his jaw hardened. "Had we met six months ago, then you might have ended me with that. But I''m not as rigid as I was once."


    SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSKRRRRRRRRRAAAAAPPPPPPPP!


    There was a sudden shriek of power, and then a blinding light. It came so suddenly that not a single on-looker had the chance to shield their eyes. Lombard had been watching closely ¨C his perception was the most astute out of all those watching, and yet even he did not see the slightest hint of an iing attack. He saw no muscles tense from either Ingolsol or Dominus.


    It was so sudden that, the night being as it was, his first reaction was to assume there was a new enemy.n/o/vel/b//in dot c//om


    The blindness passed after a few moments, and their stinging eyes recovered.


    Left, in a sea of me, were the remnants of Inglsol''s severed arm, being drunk by a fire so red it seemed almost hellish. This was not the calm orangey me that burning woodforted a man with after a long day''s work, this was a me the colour of the red embers that sat at the bottom.


    It was hard to tell what had just happened. Even Ingolsol was ncing down at his arm, his expression frozen, showing hisck of understanding. But Dominus drew back his sword with a calmness, as fluid as a dancer, he returned to his original stance, after havingpleted his strike. The mes began to flicker away, as he returned to calmness.


    "The Sixth Boundary," was all Dominus said by way of exnation. "The abandoning of rigid ways, and the questing for higher heights."


    "¡­So it would seem," Ingolsol said. He no longer looked amused, as he eyed the remnants of his arm.


    Where Ingolsol''s blood ran, the soil spasmed, as nts grew, and then died, and then grew again and again, in an endless cycle. The divine energy that epassed him melded with his blood, and ran out with it. It spread out at his feet, as he covered the wound with a hand, to slow the rate at which it left him.


    After having it in him for so long ¨C or at least, in terms of Beam''s soul, it had felt like an eternity ¨C Beam could sense that divine energy with more rity than the others. He could feel how Ingolsol''s aura ckened.


    But there too, he saw the first king of Dominus'' flesh.


    The skin that had already been discoloured by purple now began to blotch with ck. Those ck blotches began on his forearm, and where they appeared, with each breath of his chest that swayed his arms, a fragment of skin fell away with it.


    That did not escape Ingolsol''s golden eyes. He found himself smiling once more. "Ah. That reminds me of the stakes. Before this battle had even begun, I imed your life."


    "You did not, Pandora did," Dominus said, making the smile falter. Ingolsol narrowed his eyes at him.


    "I would not dislike you, mortal, were you not so firm in your heart. There''s no room in you for a bit of fun. A most irritating thing to witness," he dragged up his sword again. Massive though it was, he seemed to have no trouble wielding it with one arm.


    Once more a bolt of lightning ran towards his de, energising it. But this time, the sky did not calm, even once Ingolsol had taken the lightning from it. Instead, it continued to spark, sh after sh, in a deadly rumble, like the growl of some bestial God.


    Then it struck the ground at Dominus'' feet, a single shaft of it, close enough to have been a problem. By the time Itnded, Dominus had already disappeared. Once more, he used his speed to close the distance between him and Ingolsol.


    A pair of ck steel gates appeared between them,rge enough to let elephants through, ornate and detailed, they appeared as suddenly as the lightning had. Their appearance was enough to make even Dominus pause for a moment, before he decided to run around them, but where he went, he found a castle wall in his ce.


    More speed he picked up, and more castle was thrown between them, each brick as sturdy as the gate was. Moss grew over it, and vines grew as well, despite the frigid winter air. It was as though it had stood for a thousand years, rather than a fraction of a second.


    Eventually, the castle wall began to circle round again, and as it did, in the centre of the stone circle, there arose a stone keep, rumbling out of the ground like a stone spear. On top of it was where Ingolsol stood, his sword in one hand, as he ignored the blood that streamed down the other.


    Whereas Francis had needed to use his hands, and demanded a good amount of concentration for even the most basic of spells, Ingolsol had his castle bloom up around him as though it was only natural. He did not even need to look where his magic was cast. It ran to him, ording to his will, as simply as a nted seed growing into a flower.

 Chapter 387 The Promise of Dawn - Part 8

    The onlookers were rendered speechless.


    They''d seen magic from Francis, but to see it wielded by a divine fragment was something else entirely.


    "You seem stumped, swordsman. Did I mishear you? I had thought, through your words, that your ascension to the Sixth Boundary had given you some sort of freedom of mind? I would have expected this to be within your abilities to counter," Ingolsol said, sneering atop his tower.


    The stone finished growing, and Ingolsol thrust his sword into it, as he freed his hand up, so that he might once more feel the blood of his wound.


    He allowed a good cupful of red to grace his palm, before he flung it outwards, atop the ramparts of the castle that he''d built. And there, just as they had earlier, spasming in a ck liquid that sought life, the blood grew.


    For every metre of wall, there was a soldier. And with the castle being the size that it was ¨C enough to easily dwarf what remained of the soldier''s encampment ¨C there stood an army closing in on a thousand soldiers.


    Their bones were white, and their faces were skeletal, but armour graced them, and swords, and battleaxes, warhammers, bows and maces.


    "Corpse soldiers?" Tolsey asked. It was the first time he had spoken in a while, and his voice was hoarse as he tried to get the words out.


    The very idea seemed to offend Ingolsol. "Do you creatures know no imagination aside from that which Pandora thrusts at you? These are not monsters. These are minions. The birthright of my blood. It has been a while since I was given leave to summon so many."


    With that, he drew his sword once more, and he called out a challenge to Dominus. "Use the front gates, won''t you, mortal? Let us end this, before you fade away."


    The Steel gates opened with a crash, as they mmed into the stone walls behind them. They revealed the darkened path towards Ingolsol''s keep, and they revealed the skeletal soldiers lined up inside of it.


    The Dark God was grinning. Beam''s head was pounding. He saw those golden eyes cast their way towards him, and for a moment, they scrutinised him. Just a moment. But in that moment Beam thought he might have understood the Dark God better. He cared not an ounce whether he won or lost this battle.


    He cared not for any of them. It was impossible to tell if he cared for anything at all, but it was easy enough to see that what he craved at that moment was mere amusement.


    The thought made Beam''s blood boil with anger. The thought of their lives being toyed with like that. It was a sharp enough anger to overwrite the pain for a moment. He dragged his head out of N''s hands with a snarl on his lips.


    It was pure animalism. Even with his soul as fractured as it was, burned like a man that had juste out of a crawling building, he still found it in himself to feel the familiar tang of rage that had lifted him out of the depths of hell many times before.


    He was able to sit upright, even as he felt the blood pour out of his ear. Assailed by an unbelievable dizziness, of the likes that his past dizziness could not even begin topare to, he steadied his view of the world, and tried to gather his wits about himself.


    Everything looked different. Nothing was quite the same as it was before. It was as though he was looking at the world through a different set of eyes. A good sat near him. He thought he should recognize her, and in a sense, that was indeed recognition, but he could not recall her ce in the world, or her ce to him.


    She continually stole nces toward where a group of dead-eyed children stood, still clutching hands in their chains, even though their master had long since lost sentience. They appeared safe from the battle, for Dominus had pulled his dual away from them, but the girl was unable to hide the worry that hung in her eyes.


    "Beam¡­" she said slowly, when she saw that he was up. From how hollow her voice sounded, it seemed as though she too had lost a piece of herself. Others were looking at him as well, all of them as battered as the other.


    With the pain that still ran through Beam''s head, he quickly found himself ignoring them, as he returned his attention to the battle, just in time to see Dominus arrive at the open front gates, and lunge intobat with a ming sword.


    Fifty of those skeletal creatures were blown apart at the same time. It was impossible to tell how strong they were, but Beam figured they were at least stronger than a normal man. But that kind of strength was no use against Dominus.N?v(el)B\\jnn


    He made his way up to the top of the walls, and reappeared on the ramparts, the me of his sword a terrible red, as it cut through hardened steel as easily as papers. He dashed through them all, hardly seeming to pause ¨C but his fuse was burning down all the while, as pieces of himself continued to disappear in ck kes, and his movements grew more dull.


    "Very like a mortal," Ingolsol acknowledged, seeing Dominus cleave apart half of his army within the span of a few short moments. "To get lost in doing the repetitive, only to miss the bigger picture."


    Beam clenched his teeth. The words annoyed him. He found himself looking around for something. It took him a moment to realize that he wanted a sword. His hand ached. He wanted to get involved in the battle.


    He wanted to drive his de into that arrogant man, who stood atop that tower.


    But his armcked the strength, even as he filled it with his heart''s will. He could not even manage to grasp the loose soil that ran next to him, socking in strength were his fingers. His sword was nowhere to be seen, and he could not turn for it.

 Chapter 388 The Promise of Dawn - Part 9

    He was forced to watch, and wait, as the girl beside him gently urged him to be still, and the others murmured their agreement. He didn''t hear their voices. He had no interest in them. He wanted what those two men had. He wanted to be part of that battle. He wanted their strength, to fill a hole in his heart.


    Enjoy exclusive adventures from empire


    With such a thought, he half expected another voice to make ament, as it had so often that night, with it being allowed to speak so freely, but instead, there was nothing, only emptiness, and weakness, as Beam''s soul involuntarily reached out to grasp for what he once was.


    He would think back on the battleter. There was no memory in all his life burned more clearly in his mind than it. Every tiny fragment of information, he''d forced himself to absorb, as he continually asked himself ''why''. But the why was not spoken in a human tongue, the why was a longing for strength.


    Everything he was, it hadn''t been enough. He''d tasted defeat. Even if it had been to the overwhelming heat of two mighty divine fragments, he could not abide by his defeat.


    He could not predict their movements as well as he wanted to either. Watching them, he felt his own inadequacy. The thoughts he''d had in the past, the ones that would caution him againstparing himself to such beacons of power, they were gone, and the only thing left in their wake, was the hollow distance between him and the peaks that those two men stood on, so far out of reach from his own.


    When Dominus'' sword grew redder, and seemed to increase in size, Beam had nowork inside of him to exin the sudden change. They were so far away, as Dominus decreed it, to keep their battle from afflicting any of the exhausted vigers that had copsed near them. They were so far away, and yet Beam could swear that he could feel the heat of that de.


    Dominus had in half the skeletal army, and it was then that he turned his attention towards the central tower. He''d pivoted his feet, and brought his weight around at the hip, as though there was an enemy right in front of him that he was shing.


    What hade was a pir of me, ttened and condensed into a line of roar power.


    Beam would reflect on that attack, yearster, and wonder why Dominus had not done such a thing at the start, why had had slown the skeletal beings so intently, as though he was gathering something, rather than merely flinging his power at Ingolsol from the beginning.


    In the air, as well as the mana that he had sensed from Francis, he sensed something else, something that carried Dominus'' aura, a power and energy of his own, that bound the magic to his will.


    He wouldtere to expect that Dominus'' swordsmanship had culminated in something that eclipsed mana, and wound into it something that was distinctly personal, something no others could match.


    A clench of his fist proimed his currentck of understanding. He saw that beam of power raze its way through the stone wall of the keep, and catch Ingolsol off guard, as he widened his eyes, and hurried to escape its path.


    The Dark God leapt from the tower in his flee,nding on the floor hard, as he bent his knees, and deformed the ground beneath his feet to slow hisnding. Dominus was before him before Ingolsol could even think to straighten himself up.


    The ck sword was held out like a spear, threateningly, its sharp tip pointed straight toward''s Dominus'' path, hampering his approach, warning him. But Dominus did not slow. In a spattering of blood, the sword pierced him straight through the stomach, and burst out of his back.


    There was no time for Ingolsol to im victory, though, for the de that he had sought to keep himself safe from still came his way, and its intent was true. Its path was in no way changed by the pain Dominus felt running through his torso.


    His curved de whipped through the air. There was still a hint of redness to it, from where the mes had burned so hotly earlier, and it whipped through the armour of Ingolsol''s neckguard as though there was nothing there at all.


    "Wa¡ª" Came the attempted line, beseeching him to halt, but it was cut short, as Dominus cut the Dark God''s head from his neck.


    There was a pause, a perfect stillness. Even the lightning in the sky forgot to twitch.


    "¡­Amusing," came Ingolsol''s final murmur, before all life force was cut off from that body entirely, and the rich energy-filled blood spilt out with it.


    With the severing of Ingolsol''s life, the castle too began to crumble. The stone lost its integrity, as did the steel gates that had looked so strong just a few moments before. All around Dominus, there were the scenes of destruction, and the loud ttering of material returning to the earth.


    Before long, it was as though the castle had never existed at all, save for the circle of frightening greenery that only continued to grow, as the soil was continually enriched by the leftover divine energy, repeating the cycle of growth of several nt lives within the span of a single moment. It only continued to grow, like a great puddle, left over by the God.


    Dominus'' blood ran down his stomach, and dripped into the earth to join Ingolsol, and the many other lives that had been in on the field that day.


    "Dominus¡­" Lombard was the first to call out to him. The warrior had not turned around to them, even afterpleting his final blow. The ckness in his skin only continued to ke. It was a race between his disappearing flesh, and his disappearing blood.


    The old warrior ignored the question. He raised his head to look up at the sky instead. There, beyond the horizon, there crept the faintest bit of light.


    Francis'' dome had disappeared without their noticing, and the golden rays of the sun took their ce, as they fingered their way delicately across the tndscape, over the snow-covered grass, casting a light upon all the destruction that had happened during the dark of night.


    All those bodies, all that blood, all those embers of war, the dull remains of what had been, thest time the sun had graced them with her presence.


    They didn''t interrupt.. Not as Dominus received the first rays of the sun. It shrouded him, thest bit of warmth that he would feel in his long life. He acknowledged it gratefully, as he felt his power begin to fade away from him.


    "¡­ckwell''s men should reach you before the sun grows too high in the sky," Dominus said finally. Lombard had crept forward, away from the rest, despite his better instincts. He felt something ripping his heart, icy ws, of the type that he could not even allow himself to feel when his subordinates died. Dominus heard his approach, without having to look. "Tell them what has happened here."


    "All of it?" Lombard asked. He knew that Dominus had a penchant for secrecy.


    "All of it," he said firmly. "Give my apologies to the King ¨C for the sake of the boy."


    Lombard said nothing at that. He knew just how sore the old wound between Dominus and the King was. For the knight to finally find some reason to set that battle aside, it should have been a cause for celebration. But seeing the blood pool near Dominus'' feet, Lombard was struck by the peculiar awareness that there was nothing to celebrate.


    "I see a bright future," Dominus said, still gazing at the sun. He was smiling in such a way that Lombard had never seen from him before. "That day, when the Pandora Goblin failed to kill me¡­ I wondered what the worth was in living, when even Arthur had died before me. This moment ¨C ah, I find it isn''t so bad. It was worth it, for this."


    "The Stormfront will be weaker for your passing. Dreadfully weak," Lombard said. He struggled to keep the emotion out of his voice.


    Dominus grinned at that. "You thought me dead all these years, old friend. You have been doing just fine in my absence. Besides, what worth is there in an old man, who can swing his sword seriously only once, before the Gods take him, hm?"


    "You''re the first man in history to break through the Sixth Boundary, Dominus. Our name will ring out for eternity. Just your existence would have given us peace, the threat of your presence," Lombard insisted.


    "Hush," Dominus told him wearily. "Let us not talk of what has already passed. Promise me, you''ll do right by the boy."


    "I have promised," Lombard said.


    "Do you think me cruel, for giving him my name?"


    "I think you wise," Lombard said.


    "He will suffer because of it," Dominus said, a twisted look on his face. "For my transgressions. But I see no other way. He must be given the opportunity to walk in the real world. Not this ¨C these battles with Gods, and monsters. He needs to know his worth, against his fellow man, and he needs the opportunity to grow from it."N?v(el)B\\jnn


    "I will do all I can for him," Lombard said. "I believe in his potential as strongly as you do."


    Finally, Dominus pulled his eyes away from the sun, and afforded Lombard the full weight of his gaze. "I put my trust in you, Lombard. Tell the boy the same, when he awakes. I will be watching him. Even if the Gods refuse to let me ¨C I will be watching."


    With those words, it was as though Dominus'' body decided that it had given all it had. The light finally faded from his eyes, and copsed forward. Lombard steadied him with the shoulder of his missing arm. A tear ran down the cheek of a man that had more than once been used of having a heart of stone.


    A distance away, a weakened boy struggled from his crater, his legscking strength, as blood poured from him, as the world spun this way and that, and every fibre of his being felt as though it was on fire.


    Above that pain, he felt a painful loss, enough to fill him with panic. He pitched from, managing a single triumphant step, on his unsteady legs, before he pitched forward face first into the frosty mud.


    Tears ran down his cheeks, and he hardly knew why. His memories seemed separate from him. But his body knew, and it grieved. It felt the full hollowness of a missing heart.


    He tried to crawl that distance, but as soon as he saw Dominus pitch forward, thest semnce of control left him, and he howled at the sky, thest of his strength, before copsing fully, with his face into the dirt, losing consciousness.


    The Gods must have heard his call, for a gentle wind swept by, urging the grey clouds of the night onwards, revealing the first patch of a blue sky.


    Thest of the clouds hung off into the distance, as the final strike of lightning rang out, followed by the booming of thunder, as the heavens went still, and the Gods acknowledged the return of the Hero Dominus Patrick.


    If a man had the mind to, and been right there, just as the wind past, they might have heard the greeting of one old friend to another.


    "Wee home, Dominus," Arthur said, his smile every bit as warm as it had been in life.


    VOLUME 1 ¨C END

 Chapter 390 Awakening - Part 2

    And then he saw Lombard, carefully pulling himself through the open door after the maid. He was dressed unlike Beam had ever seen him. Beam was so used to seeing him in military attire, that the simple white shirt and ck cravat that he wore with it, they only served to further his disorientation.


    But then he saw the empty sleeve of Lombard''s shirt, and he recalled the battle. He met Lombard''s gaze, a question written on his face. Lombard nodded briefly, before speaking to the maid.


    "Leave us, Marianne. I''d speak with the boy, now that''s awoken," Lombard told her.


    "As you wish, Ser Lombard. But don''t push him too hard ¨C the Doctor will give us both hell if you do," Marianne said, leaving a cloth next to the bowl of water, she then spoke to Beam. "Oliver, there''s a bowl there, if you wish to freshen yourself up."


    "He''s wee to the baths," Lombard said.


    "He isn''t strong enough to go to the baths," Marianne said firmly, forcing Lombard, but with the serious look on her face, he dared not argue. Though she was his servant, in certain domains he allowed her to overrule even him, lest he catch some of her way-ward discontent. She left quietly, wearing the same expression.


    The two listened to her footsteps fade, before speaking.


    "Oliver..?" Beam said, repeating the name that she had called him. It was impossible to disguise the anxiety in his voice. Lombard waved a hand at that.


    "Aye, Oliver. You''ve been asleep nearly a week, it was impossible to ask your opinion on it," Lombard said, crossing the room, and drawing the curtains with a swift jerk. Sunlight poured in through the ss panes.


    "I''m Beam, though..?" Beam said. It was impossible to phrase it not as a question. Lombard must have heard his tone, for he narrowed his eyes as though he''d just heard something stupid.


    "Of course you are. As I said, this was merely what had to be done, since you were asleep, and there was no consulting to be done with you. Lord ckwell arrived a few hours after dawn. It was then that I was forced to introduce you, and Oliver was the only name I could think of. Do you dislike it that badly?"


    "No¡­ It''s just¡­ Where am I?"


    "Ah¡­ Did you not hear any of it? Your master''s ns for you?" Lombard''s tone softened, as he seemed to understand. "I suppose this seems rather confusing to you then, does it?"


    Beam nodded dumbly, not trusting himself to speak. The pain was beginning to grow stronger. It made it difficult to concentrate.


    "He gave you his name," Lombard said. "With it, you inherit hisnds and titles as his son. Not that he has anynds ¨C the King made sure of that, years ago. But the Patrick title still remains."


    "Wait, what? His son?" Beam couldn''t help but grimace at that part. "Are you sure that''s what Dominus said?" He pictured the man in his head. He could not imagine him ever suffering to call Beam his son. Experience new stories on empire


    Lombard did not smile. His reaction only served to remind Beam that Dominus was well and truly dead. There was no joking to be done about it. With that, a hollow feeling spread throughout his body, and he shivered from it. Panic, and hollow grief. The only two emotions he had felt since waking.


    He wondered if his mind was possibly the weakest it had ever been.


    "The man gave you his name," Lombard said firmly. "I would not mistake that. He saw the potential in you, and he also saw an opportunity. The barrier of your birth would have kept you from many things. With his death, that was the best he could do for you. Grant you the status of nobility, and with it, the opportunities that he had."


    Seeing Beam stand there, unspeaking, Lombard continued. "Is that not what you wanted? Are you dissatisfied? I suppose, awakening here, without a word for yourrades in Solgrim, that might irk you. But it had to be done. Still, if you are so against the idea, you may return from whence you came."


    "No¡­ No, it''s not that," Beam said urgently, and as he did so, he found himself looking around the room. "It''s just¡­ Where am I, and truly why? I still can''t understand this. A trick then, on Dominus'' part, to pretend that I''m his son, to pretend that I''m nobility. But how ¨C they''ll know, they''ll find out."


    "They won''t," Lombard said, a trace of irritation finding its way into his voice. "Your master was not stupid. Do not insult his memory with doubt. Had the circumstances been any different from what they were, then yes, the sudden appearance of a son would be called into question.


    But with Dominus'' history, his past, the mystery that shrouds his goings on, and with that battle, and all the strangeness in it, the mystery of your own appearance is overwritten. There could not be a more perfect time for it."


    "Let me ask you a question, boy, before we proceed any further. What is it that you want? Dominus seemed to think you were of the aim of ying the Pandora Goblin. He seemed to think that you were aiming for a warrior''s greatness."


    For the first time since he awoke, Beam had no doubts. The weakness had all but left his voice when he made his reply.


    "I want to surpass my master," he said firmly, his eyes flickering to gold as he said it, his fist clenching. And then, after a pause, and a memory of the battle, he sucked in a deep breath, and embarrassedly admitted something else that he had begun to harbour. "¡­I also wish to¡­ lead, perhaps¡­ But Dominus was unable to teach me that.


    He told me that people and strategy were two things thaty beyond him."n/o/vel/b//in dot c//om


    The one-armedmander listened, struggling to hide the approval in his eyes. With those words of Beam''s, he was sure that they had not made the wrong decision. A week''s worth of doubts were swiftly washed away.

 Chapter 391 Awakening - Part 3

    Lombard nodded. "Without a doubt, you and I know him to be the greatest swordsman in the history of the Stormfront. He sealed his position as that, after passing through the Sixth Boundary. But indeed, Dominuscked the¡­ knack for people. He scornedpany, and that led to others not taking him as seriously as they should have."


    "As for leadership, I could show you what I know of it. But, I am no Dominus. Just as he was the greatest swordsman to ever live, our country is host to a score of Generals far greater than I. With your newfound title, once youe of age, you will have the opportunity to fight under them," Lombard said.


    Beams'' heart pounded at the thought of those generals. "As great as Dominus, you say?"


    Lombard nodded seriously. "In their domain ofmand, they are unmatched. Though lesspetent than he with a sword, at the head of their armies, you would not notice it. There''s a different domain there, a strength only reachable by those that hold the trust of their soldiers, a domain different from the boundaries of udia."


    "Where can I find them?" Beam asked suddenly. He wanted to fight again, even though his body ached. A fire was in him now, a fire that drowned out the hollowness of grief. Something that urged him to run forward even faster, to grasp even more.


    Lombardughed at that. It was such a startling sounding from his mouth, and it came with hardly any warning, for his face had been as still as stone before he let it loose.


    "You''ve such a skewed perspective of the world now boy, it''s almost a danger to you. You do not merely walk up to the Great Generals and beg for their training. Nor do you simply turn up to a battlefield unannounced. No.


    Your master was an entric ¨C onlyter in life, when you see just how hard it is for others to crawl their way towards such opportunities will you realize how lucky you were," Lombard said.


    "But even you, you let me fight with you," Beam pointed out.


    "Again, an exception, not the norm. You merely happened to be situated in SOlgrim whilst I was making my camp there. If the Yarmdon had note, or if Francis had not been present, we would have never crossed paths. In fact, you would be lucky to have seen amander at any point in your life in that vige.


    Historically, it was one of the safest ces to be in, away from the coast, and the raids, and away from the battling to the East¡­ of course, not so much anymore," Lombard said.


    "Then what do I do?" Beam asked, sounding desperate. Somehow, in his head, he had figured it would all just neatly line up, that he would be able to keep training, and keep getting stronger where he was. He hadn''t stopped to consider how hard it might be to find the opportunities that he needed to prove himself.


    "The Academy," Lombard said gravely. "You should have started when you were twelve, but you wouldn''t be the first to join halfway through. Make your way through the Academy, and gain enough achievements to your name to be promoted officially to a knight, and then maybe, you''ll have the chance atmand that you seek, and the chance at battle."


    "And I suppose peasants can''t attend this Academy?" Beam said, thoughtfully.


    "Now we get to the heart of the matter," Lombard said. "To put it simply, for you, boy, you are a mangy wolf that needs to be integrated into the pack. Your distance from true society has been immense. You need to integrate yourself, and then maybe, we can speak of thesepetencies that you have. There''s a way of doing things.


    You''vee as far as you can on your own, now you must follow the orderid about by society."


    "It seems stupid, to go the slower route," Beam said. "I know people have worth¡­ I saw that in the vigers. I know that they make you stronger, when you''re properly amongst them. But does this not slow me down? Do I not get held back by rules that don''t have much purpose? I''m a peasant ¨C the second they find that out, won''t they just get rid of me entirely?


    Then what was the point? I''ll just be weak again, left alone."


    "Aplicated question¡­ Something more answerable by experience, than by words. Though I can''t say I''m surprised that Dominus'' apprentice would be espousing such things, being how rogue the man himself was. I''ll simply say this: there are privileges afforded to those in certain positions within a society that one must not take for granted.


    If you aim for strength, as you proim to, you must acrue every advantage that you can," Lombard said. Enjoy exclusive chapters from empire


    "But again, none shall find out about you. Do you have a lingering attachment to your name? For I will henceforth be calling you Oliver. I will no longer make the mistake of calling you Beam, lest someone overhears, and it sows doubts in their mind," Lombard said.


    Beam shook his head. "No¡­ I don''t suppose I have any attachments to it. It''s not my real name, anyway. A ver gave it to me."


    "And what is your real name?"n/o/vel/b//in dot c//om


    "It''s¡­" He opened his mouth to speak what should havee naturally to him, but when a name did not arise to his lips as he expected, and then when a few moments more passed after that, he realized with a panic start, that he did not even know he could not even remember his own name.


    That realization came with a start of pain in his head. He held a hand to his forehead, and he groaned.


    "There is no need to push yourself," Lombard said. "I see my conversation has likely tired you. I will leave you now, and we will speak again in the evening, if you are feeling up to it."


    Beam nodded grimly, as he watched Lombard leave. The pounding headache felt like an axe into his skull. It was several hours before it began to die down, and several hours after that when the maid came again to summon him.


    ¡­


    ¡­


    It was evening when the maid finally led Beam outside into the gardens. Or perhaps it was Oliver that she led out, for now, he was dressed as well as any noble boy should have been. His trousers were narrow, and fit him well, and his socks went up the knees of them, so that they fit him even better.

 Chapter 392 Awakening - Part 4

    A grey dining jacket was put on him, over the top of a brilliant white shirt, with a ruffled cravat, of the sort that Lombard had been wearing earlier. The maid had cut his hair that very afternoon, andbed it, all the while tutting at the unfairness of it all, for someone of Beam''s ¨C or Oliver''s ¨C station, to have spent so long living in the woods.


    "It was for training," he told her, carefully, unsure of what Lombard himself had said.


    "Oh, I heard all about your training, and I see it on your skin, more easily read than a book. A boy your age shouldn''t be covered in so many scars," she said. "It makes me wonder just what your father was thinking."


    Oliver had looked at her dangerously then, for his reaction was more of this ''Oliver''s'' than Beam''s. He had merely needed to look at her to disy his dissatisfaction. She gasped, when she saw the gold light up his eyes, and quickly apologized, continuing to do his hair in silence.


    Even in silence, what she had produced was something of a marvellous transformation. If N had seen him then, she would have burst outughing, as would the other vigers. He''d never been so clean in his life, it was an ufortable thing.


    He found himself stepping out into the garden as unsure as a newly shoed horse ¨C even these well-fitting shoes felt heavy and foreign to him. He wanted nothing more than to be rid of it all, and return to what he was used to wearing in the vige.


    With thoughts of them, that hollowness in his heart that hade with the loss of Dominus, it vibrated once again, and he realized he hadn''t had Lombard tell of what happened to them. In truth, he hadn''t thought to ask. It was taking him hours to get his thoughts in order, and even then, they weren''t as they should have been. There was an extreme fragility to it all now.


    Beam had to marvel at the garden. He had to marvel at the wealth of a family that could afford to cultivate such an amount of grass, merely for the purposes of pleasure and appearance.


    A whole strip of it ran down in a longne, with carefully trimmed high hedges on either side of it, running all the way down to a boating pond, calm and quiet. It was big enough for a farmer''s field, easily.


    He nced over his shoulder, to finally observe the house from the outside, and that too was just as big. Itpletely dwarfed Greeves'' luxurious home in Solgrim. It was at least five times the size of it.


    From counting the windows, Beam guessed that there were likely upwards of ten bedrooms, and then there were two stories to the house itself, all the stonework painted a white as pure as what had decorated his room.


    Marianne called out to Lombard as Beam was still busy taking in his surroundings.n/o/vel/b//in dot c//om


    "He''s here," Marianne said. Lombard turned around, pausing his conversation with another gentleman that he''d been speaking with. He nodded at Marianne, and motioned with his hand to dismiss her. She gave a courtesy to him, and then nodded to Beam, as she made her way back inside.


    "Come then, boy, let me introduce you," Lombard said. He was still dressed in the shirt that Beam had seen him in earlier, only now, he too had thrown on a jacket. The back of his was longer than Beam''s, and a ck, whereas his was a grey. His coattails hung down towards the backs of his knees, with gold on their tips.


    At Lombard''s urging, Beam followed the stone bs that marked the way from the house, ncing at the potted nts as he went, as though they interested him. And in truth, they did, but of more pressing notice was the man that stood beside Lombard. The pressure that he let off was intense, and he was making no effort to hide it.


    As he made his way to them, Beam did his best to take in information about the man. Lombard had said nothing of their introduction in the earlier conversation. From the way Lombard stood next to him, his bodynguage gently subordinating, Beam guessed that he was one of Lombard''s superiors¡­ But who, exactly?


    There was a sword at his hip as well, though the man looked more suited to a battle axe, with his thick meaty body, and that extra head of height that he had. His chest threatened to burst out of the shirt that he was wearing, and even though his colour was done up high, Beam could see the hairs of his chest poking out just underneath his beard.


    "Oliver, this is Lord ckwell," Lombard said, his tone betraying no indication of what he expected from him.


    Oliver ¨C he was making sure to think of himself as Oliver now, lest he slip up mid-conversation with this man ¨C did the only thing he could think to do, and bowed slightly at the waist to make his introduction.


    Continue reading stories on empire


    "Hoh¡­" Was all Lord ckwell said, as he looked him up and down, radiating interest, allowing his pressure to bear down on Oliver, without even thinking of holding it back.


    Beam guessed that he was at least of the Fourth Boundary, but he wasn''t sure entirely if it was his strength that gave him such a daunting presence, or whether it was his position, for as Lombard said earlier, there was an entirely different dimension of strength there.


    Oliver wasn''t sure if he approved of what he saw. When the silence stretched on, he merely waited, ncing asionally at ckwell''s sword, and then squinting at Lombard, to see if he could glean anything from him.


    "As you see, he is missing the training one would expect of a noble," Lombard pointed out.


    "Hm. Indeed. Indeed. The way he carries himself¡­ You can see Dominus in him. A firm stamp, that one left, a firm stamp. Well then, boy, pleased to make your acquaintance.


    I was an associate of your father ¨C we fought side by side on more than one asion. I don''t suppose he''s mentioned me?" The man spoke in the sort of booming voice that one would expect from his appearance, but there was a civilized edge to his words that spoke of suffocation. It made for an interestingbination.

 Chapter 393 Awakening - Part 5

    "He mentioned you once or twice," Oliver said. Still, he was unsure how to treat this man. But his heart was calm. He did not feel fear for him, despite the way ckwell towered over him, and tried to look through him with his piercing pale blue eyes.


    After a tense moment, ckwell broke into a smile. "Of battle, then?"


    "Only with the Pandora Goblin," Oliver replied.


    Continue reading stories on empire


    That smile faded just as quickly as it hade. ckwell coughed ufortably, and Oliver saw Lombard''s eyebrow twitch.


    "Apologies, boy. I saw the vige. It is unsurprising that you hold a grudge against me," ckwell said, ufortably. Oliver did not know enough about the nobility to know that a Lord of ckwell''s position apologising to a mere minor noble such as he, it was a serious breach of etiquette.


    But it was Oliver''s turn to be surprised, as he frowned. "Why would I be angry with you?"


    "Well, these were mynds. It is my duty to see that they are protected," ckwell said. "For allowing the Yarmdon to go free as long as I did, those were my failures."


    "You could not have helped it," Oliver said, less respectfully than he had intended to. "The Mage Francis puppeteered their movements beyond which even they knew. He would not have allowed them to be caught, regardless. It was simply our misfortune and weakness that brought us as many losses as we incurred."


    ckwell shared a look with Lombard, to which Lobmard shook his head, seemingly by way of apology. "As I said, he is unustomed to our ways. Dominus set him the task of protecting that vige, for his apprenticeship. The boy took it more seriously than you would expect. The possibility of reinforcements never seemed to enter his mind."


    "A father apprenticing his own son, now there''s the kind of breach of tradition that one would expect of Dominus," ckwell said with a chuckle. His smile quickly faded though, as the next thought came to him. "The vigers spoke well of him. A strange thing to see, in his death, that a man who cared so little for people would go out the way he did, as a hero."


    He interrupted his own quiet, as he perked up again, to look at Oliver. "And, they speak the same of you, boy. Your name was on their lips ¨C or at least, the one they knew you by. They thought you a peasant, did they not? Cunning, very cunning. A clever way to win their trust.


    Very clever."


    Oliver said nothing, but merely shared a nce with Lombard, as ckwell continued to speak.


    "I brought the reinforcements myself, you know, and I was bitterly disappointed to see it all over before I''d even arrived. But then there were stories, such stories! Enough to make even a man of my age feel the fire of passion again. When Lombard sent word that you''d awoken, I could not abide waiting any longer.


    I wished to meet the young man that did battle in my ce, and saved his vige," ckwell said.


    "I did not save it, in the end. My strength was insufficient. Do¡ªFather had to do it in my ce," Oliver pointed out.


    "No one begrudges you that. To expect any more of a fifteen-year-old boy would be the heart of folly. At your age, you should be in the Academy, raising your strength. I expect when you start, you''ll be the envy of your peers ¨C they''re all hungry for a chance to prove themselves, but let me assure you, none could have done as you did.


    You were with Lombard when he slew Gorm, were you not?" ckwell pressed, unable to reel in his excitement. His eyes practically sparkled with it.


    "I was..." Oliver said, ufortably. Lombard shrugged at him by way of apology.


    "A thorn in my side if ever there was one! There''s a name that''s been spoken of bitterly for a time, even in the Royal Court. To have snuffed out such a threat, at some backwater vige in the middle of nowhere ¨C I bet not even those needle-fingered strategists in the Capital could have predicted that.


    That''s a Fourth Boundary threat that is¡ª ah, I suppose I should not speak of such things, yet¡­" he cut himself off.


    "The boy is already aware," Lombard said.n/?/vel/b//jn dot c//om


    "Ah, I suppose that makes sense. There''s little chance Dominus would have heeded our own traditions. Well, boy, count yourself lucky. Most youths only learn of the Boundaries once they themselves pass through it, as is tradition.


    Though, inevitably, we can''t keep as strong a stranglehold on that information as we would like, so there are still a handful of Academy students aware of it," ckwell said with a shrug.


    "Kursak and Jok," Lombard reminded him, as ckwell drifted off into thought. With that prompting, the Lord''s eyes lit up again, and he made a great exnation of realization, beforeunching into his next set of questions.


    "Ah, yes! Yes! There was excitement in those, wasn''t there? Kursak! There was a name we were hearing often, we had our eye on him, we did. The nexting of Gorm, or so they said.


    I hear you slew him early into the battle? Lombard used you in a surprise attack, did he not? Ever the strategist, that one, ever the strategist. Ah! Tell me of it, it must have been glorious!"


    "Jok was the one to fear," Oliver said, surprised by the own serious edge in his voice. "He would have overtaken Gorm, I am sure of it."


    His sudden contradiction put a halt to the conversation once more. No matter how Oliver tried, it seemed that he was just too odd for thepany of nobility. But this time, Lombard rescued his assertion.


    "Indeed. I felt Jok break through to the Third Boundary, as Oliver and he did battle at the head of a score of vigers," Lombard said.


    And then ckwell''s bear-like hands were grasping Oliver''s shoulders, as his excitement overcame him. "Byyyyy the Gods! It fills me with such passion! I heard that! I heard it! I wanted to hear it from your mouth.


    A boy takingmand of three hundred vigers, and overpowering near two hundred Yarmdon Elite! That is the sort of thing songs are written about! That''s the sort of thing that makes me want to write¡­ In fact, I ought to have my clerks make note of it¡­ I should¡­" He once more drifted off into excited thought.

 Chapter 394 Awakening - Part 6

    Even as his voice trailed off, the strength in his grip did nothing of the sort. Oliver was left pinned in ce, with that burly man standing over him, smelling of all the rich spices that nobility wore. It made Oliver want to wrinkle his nose, but he patiently waited ¨C even he knew that Lord ckwell was not the type of man he should make an enemy of for no reason.


    Eventually, the man stirred, and his smile broadened, as he regained himself, patting Oliver on the shoulders with his heavily ringed hand. Each tap was enough to send a tremor through Oliver''s body. He feared to think what the same hand might do with an axe, and more motivation.


    "Well, you''ve done me well here, Lombard," ckwell said, regaining his more lordly tone, as he took a step back from Oliver, but the excitement in his eyes still has not faded. "I feel myself a man who has discovered a dragon egg."


    "I am d he pleases you," Lombard said, with a slight bow of his head. With that bow, the emptiness of his sleeve was made more obvious, causing the Lord to frown.


    "That arm¡­ I don''t suppose you''ll be rejoining the front lines any time soon in that state," he said.


    "It was my sword arm," Lombard said bluntly. "It leaves me weaker than he once was."


    For some reason, Lombard''s reply seemed to hearten him a deal, as he read something in it, beneath the polite phrasing, that Oliver seemed to have missed. "Ah, indeed. You mean to tell me that your head remains intact, do you, Captain? The Shothram will be disheartened to hear that. A promotion, I should think ¨C that seems to be in order. Five hundred men, and the title of Lieutenant.


    What say you?"


    "You need not bargain with me, my Lord," Lombard said with a wry smile. "There is no other ce for me than on the field of battle. Besides ¨C I would not feelfortable iming the des for a victory that was not my own. This victory belongs to the boy, and if any knight should im it, it should be Dominus."n/?/vel/b//jn dot c//om


    Again, Oliver was forced to be confronted by Lord ckwell''s piercing gaze. "Ah, I wonder if you even notice how you carry yourself, Lombard. You treat the boy near as an equal."


    "If you bore witness to that battle, you might feel simrly my Lord. That is not a child, however ourws might define him," Lombard said.


    "A weapon, then?" ckwell asked.


    "Perhaps. Though I was unable to wield it. The boy did better away from my authority, rather than under it," Lombard replied. Both men were looking Oliver up and down with critical gazes, as though he was a horse to be sold. Silently, he endured their looks, and merely continued to look levelly back at them.


    "Come spring, the King has ordered me to hold the East for a handful of seasons. I would have liked to try this weapon of yours," ckwell said. "¡­s, I suppose I had better wait, lest I invite more ire from the neighbouring Lords than I have already."


    Finally, he spoke to Oliver as though he was human again, rather than a particrly interesting armament. Discover exclusive content at empire


    "If you had been but a few years older, a hefty promotion would have been due as a result of your recent achievements, young Oliver. At present, I can give you none of those. Many will scorn the fact that a mere boy was given the opportunity to prove himself in battle when others have been denied it. Others would see your vigers hanged, for armin themselves without the Lord''s permission."


    Suddenly, Oliver''s eyes were golden, as a rage rippled through him, and he clenched his fist, his mouth open, ready to speak an angry reply.


    But with a raised hand from Lord ckwell, he held back what he was about to say. "I am not one of those men. I have informed all those who question otherwise, that you and your vigers were armed under mymand. As such, I bear thew in your ce.


    There are mumblings ¨C nasty little things, about the use of a boy in battle, and about your father, Dominus, disappearing for as long as he had, abandoning his duty."


    Again, Oliver wanted to interrupt, but again, ckwell waved him into silence. Lombard was staring at him as well, his gaze even more serious than usual. Even in silence, Oliver could feel the man''s will, a distinct and obvious thing: ''shut up, and do what you''re told, lest you get us all killed.'' Begrudgingly, Oliver obeyed.


    "Again, I am not one of those men. I have a great respect for your father. I wouldn''t go as far as to call us friends, but at the very least, I think we had an understanding. I''m aware that he had his reasons, just as I am aware of the favour he did me in ying the mage Francis, and dealing with the Cursed being that arose from him.


    Those in the Capital shine doubts upon those reports, just as they shine doubts on the im that Dominus broke through the Sixth Boundary. I do not share those doubts. I trust my men. I am going to need your trust in that, boy. Do I have it?"


    Slowly, Oliver nodded. The man had hardly paused for breath, as he switched his aims yet again, and broke into his more Lordly mode of being, the sight of the excited and affable man who had been present a moment earlier seemed long forgotten.


    Something about Oliver''s reaction must have dissatisfied him, for the Lord sighed, and looked to Lombard toin, the heavy gold chain of his position swinging about his neck as he did so.


    "Apologies, Lord ckwell. As I''ve said, the boy is unfamiliar with the customs of our nobility. Dominus taught him the sword, rather than etiquette," Lombard said, though he did not sound particrly sorry, so much as he did exasperated. "As it happens, for the boy, this is rather good behaviour."

 Chapter 395 Awakening - Part 7

    Lord ckwell shook his head at that. "You''re positively feral, aren''t you, Oliver? That is something that you will need to work on. No doubt that you will quickly pick up such things at the Academy, but do so with my warning: in the courts, I had to put out my neck for you. In the absence of your Father, and with the rmendation of Lombard, I''ve staked a im on you.


    Your actions, be they good or bad, in the future, they will reflect on me."


    "And what do I gain from this arrangement, Lord ckwell?" Oliver spoke directly, but politely. Even in the presence of a Lord, with such wealth draped over him, of the likes that he had never seen, Oliver did not hesitate to speak his mind.


    The glint in ckwell''s eyes indicated his surprise, their narrowing soon disyed his irritation, but then the nod that followed both of them seemed to demonstrate a begrudging respect. "Very well. If you wish to be direct, then on this asion, I will forgive it, andy it out in the open so that you might better understand it. As an heir to the House of Patrick, you fall under my dominion.


    I am your Lord, by right, and by birth. With the position your father left things in, House Patrick is hardly a house any longer. Those of high birth would not have recognized it. But out of respect for your father, I return that name to you, with the expectation that you honour the oath your house gave to mine, all those centuries ago."


    "So, you''ll protect me in exchange for me fighting for you?" Oliver said, remaining direct.


    He was a boy that had suddenly found himself in the garden of nobility, amongst the wealth of the like that he had never seen in his life, following a battle that even the greatest swordsmen would have had nightmares about. His position was tenuous. His head was of clouds, there was no solidness there. With his directness, he sought simple things that he could cling to, reassurances.


    Lombard ¨C he trusted Lombard. He''d fought alongside him. But one thing was clear, following what Lord ckwell had said: Lombard was not sufficient to protect him.


    The title that Dominus had given Oliver did note without its poisons. In order to keep it, and in order to make use of it, he had to ept those poisons, and deal with them as best he could, so that he could keep his eyes on the future that he wished.n/?/vel/b//jn dot c//om


    "If that is what you wish, boy," Lord ckwell said. "Though, I would not begrudge you a childhood now. I could consider your loyalty already done and paid for. I could make it such that you never see a battle again, if you so wished, though I would find that a terrible shame."


    "I seek strength, Lord ckwell," Oliver said, dipping his head, in what he assumed would at least convey an attempt at respect. "Much of what you have told me, I do not understand, though I at least gather that the position Dom¡ªmy father, left us in, is somewhatplicated. My wish is to experience these true battles that Lombard has informed me of.


    Those with tens of thousands of men ¨C those with Great Generals. I want to see just what it means to be strong."


    And now, finally, Lord ckwell was once again smiling. He stuck out a meaty hand, and Oliver shook it. "Now there are terms that we can both understand. If that is the path you wish, if you promise me strength, and you promise me your sword, I will shield you from the politics, and allow you the time you need to grow. Though, before such an agreement, I would ask you one thing."


    Oliver did not need to ask what that thing was. ckwell had already motioned with his hand, and suddenly there was a severing man approaching. Oliver knew not from where he''d appeared ¨C the man had been so quiet as to be invisible, but now he was marching across the neatly cut grass, with a pair of heavy wooden swords in his hands, as though he had been waiting just for that moment.


    "ckwell¡­ The boy has barely just had his wounds close," Lombard protested. "Besides, even if he was well, your strength even amongst the Fourth Boundary Generals is to be admired."


    "I don''t even have my men here, I don''t have the Favour of Command to augment my de," ckwell protested. "It should make for a fair fight."


    "You forget, the ordinary knight does not have the Favour of Command either. Nor does the boy. Nor does he have any men around him if he did," Lombard informed him.


    Begrudgingly, ckwell relented. He''d taken the swords from the serving man, and now he was just about to give them back, but Oliver was already holding his hand out for a weapon, unable to hide the eagerness from his face.


    Your next read is at empire


    "Favour of Command?" He asked as he did so. ckwell hesitated to give the sword to him. He looked at Lombard for approval, but the Captain merely sighed and shrugged.


    The leather grip felt good in Oliver''s hands. It felt incredibly good. It was the most real thing he had touched upon since waking up in a foreign bed. He could not contain the sigh of relief that left him. Even the pain in his head seemed to fade, if only a little, and he was able to forget the aching of his wounds just as well.


    "The Favour of Command is that which gives amander strength, when he''s leading properly," Lombard informed him. "If I tell you its other name, I expect you might understand it better: Varsharn''s Blessing."


    "Ah," Oliver nodded. He was more familiar with Gods than the average man. More familiar with them even than a knight. He knew the name Varsharn. He was the Stormfront God of War. The Yarmdon knew him by a different name, but that did not matter.

 Chapter 396 Awakening - Part 8

    Oliver was admiring his sword, twisting it in his hand, allowing it to roll open his shoulder, as he reminded himself of its weight and its feel. With his preupation, he did not notice the look that passed between Lombard and ckwell, as the two acknowledged his immediate understanding of something that should have been the exclusive knowledge of the officer ss.


    "You had better give me that other de, my Lord," Lombard said, in the end. "I make for a better opponent for the boy, given that we''re both injured."


    "You''ve lost your sword arm," Lord ckwell pointed out. He seemed reluctant to part with the weapon. "Besides, aren''t you of the Third Boundary yourself? And yet you condemn me for challenging him as a member of the Fourth?"


    "Those two things seem to cancel each other out my Lord," Lombard acknowledged calmly. ckwell''s serving man must have agreed, for he gently pried the sword away from his Lord''s fingers, and trotted across the grass to hand it to Lombard, who had already begun to take steps back in preparation for a sparring match.


    It was only when Oliver had looked up again from his practice, that he was able to acknowledge what had been decided without his ascent. Lombard was gripping his sword ten paces away, an expectant look on his face.


    "Your Lord wishes to see the strength that the rest of us havee to respect," Lombard reiterated for him. "These are wooden des, so feel free to fight with all the strength you have, though I would appreciate it if you did not leave me with any broken bones ¨C these swords are heavy, after all."


    Oliver acknowledged that to be true. Despite being made out of wood, Oliver could feel the presence of something weighted inside them. The practice des mirrored the weight of a true sword rather well ¨C though the distribution of that weight wasn''t quite the same, and the bnce was off.


    Now Lord ckwell was looking truly excited. He''dpletely washed away the serious mask that he''d been wearing earlier, and he paced with wide strides to get between the two of them to serve as a referee.


    "We''ll y for points, eh? Whoevernds a blow wins the round and gets a point. If both of yound, then whichever wound would have been the most deadly gets the point," ckwell exined.


    "I''m sure the boy is familiar with such rules," Lombard said. But Oliver merely shook his head. He wasn''t. That wasn''t the way he had Dominus sparred ¨C there would have been no point to it, for he had never been able tond a hit on Dominus.


    For some reason, the knowledge that he''d never engaged in that yful type of sparring before made ckwll''s expression dampen, as Oliver caught something akin to pity pass over his face, but he quickly recovered.


    "Well then, gentlemen, show me, I bid you. Do not overstrain yourselves for your injuries, but do not hold back either. I wish to see just what it is that Dominus has delivered to me, begin, if you would!"n/?/vel/b//jn dot c//om


    He swung his arm down to ent the beginning of theirbat. Oliver did not hesitate. In his mind, the battle that haunted each thought was far from over. As soon as he took a darting step forward, theforting blue afternoon sun seemed to fade back to ck.


    The warmer grasses of Lombard''s estate that had not yet caught the winter snows soon felt cold underfoot. There was blood on his hands again. His name was Beam, and there were enemies to y.


    He felt Lombard''s aura as the man unleashed it. The Third Boundary, and all the strength and possibilities that came with it, they streamed off him like a gust of wind. It would have been easy to confuse that strength for Jok''s. They both had a serpentine quality to them, they both shared the same cunning.


    "Hoh!" ckwell exined.


    Oliver had closed the ten-stride distance between them with only three leaping agile bounds. His sword was down by his right, and all his momentum was poised ready for a crushing attack. Lombard had not moved. He waited, calmly, a man ustomed to battle, even if he was not as ustomed to fighting with one arm.


    Oliver brought his sword up in an undercut, rather than an overhand. It would have surprised another enemy, but not Lombard. The Captain calmly tapped it aside as though it was nothing but a childish attempt at hostility.


    But Oliver was already chaining his next attack. He recalled how Dominus had been able to so effectively use the same strike in repetition, walking the tightrope ofbat so tightly, that he could find the efficacy in beginnerbinations like that, the type of thing that a warrior should have expected.


    He sought understanding of that memory as he threw his next sh towards Lombard''s left. Calmly, once more, Lombard shifted his sword in the way. He didn''t take the strike head-on, but battered Oliver''s sword away at its very tip, costing Oliver valuable time in steadying it.


    But Oliver had already been readying himself for a different kind of attack. Even as he felt his sword be dragged off to the side, he was eyeing Lombard''s front leg, which seemed ever so close. His leg was pulled back, and he went for the calf kick, mimicking the technique that he had seen Dominus use, and almost replicating it perfectly.


    Lombard''s eyes widened in surprise, and then understanding, as he too matched up the same memories in his mind. He pulled his leg back, before Beam could connect, narrowing his stance more than would otherwise have beenfortable, refusing to make the same mistake that Ingolsol had.


    But here, Oliver employed old strategies with the new advantage that he held. His poison water style was rushing back into his mind. He could feel it just as easily as he could feel breath streaming into his lungs. It was that electrifying awareness that he''d cultivated in the midst of battle, it possessed him, as he felt the bnce of all things.

 Chapter 397 Awakening - Part 9

    His de went crashing towards Lombard''s shoulder before the man couldfortably ready himself. He was forced to twist his body with that narrow stance that Oliver had forced him into. And then Oliver''s eyes twinkled golden, as he saw the winning opportunity, ferocity poured out from him, along with blood lust, and he was Beam once again.


    WHAP WHAP WHAP.


    Shoulder, side, chest, his de battered three different ces at once, forcing Lombard to try and keep up with him ¨C he couldn''t. Beam had already secured the advantage when hepromised his footing. The Captain seemed more shocked than anyone, as Beam ducked low, and swept the man''s narrowed legs from under him in a low kick, sending him copsing to the ground.


    Beam was on him with a ferocity before he could even react, steaming like a wolf, his sword was ready, as he held it against Lombard''s throat, as he straddled him, holding him in ce with his body weight.


    "Yield," Lombard said icily. Beam could hear the irritation in his voice.


    "Oliver," ckwell corrected. "I believe we said to the first point."n/?/vel/b//jn dot c//om


    With those words, Beam fought to regain himself. With a few breaths to steady himself, he stood up from Lombard, and was Oliver once again. His clothing was rumpled.


    "Sorry," Oliver grumbled, realizing that he''d gone overboard. There was dirt on Lombard''s sleeve from where Beam had forced him to the floor.


    Lombard shook his head, regaining his calmness. He managed to look dignified, even as he hauled himself up off the ground to dust the grass off from him. "No, it is not you that I am irritated with," Lombard assured him. "You fought well, as your Lord bid you to. That reflects well on me, as your guardian."


    With a bob of his head, Oliver hesitantly epted what Lombard said, still unsure whether he had done something unforgivable. He turned back to see the Lord''s reaction, but it was not the man himself that caught his attention first. It was the maid, Marianne, who was standing stunned, as she stood with a bucket of gardening supplies in her hand.


    Feeling Oliver''s gaze on her, she regained herself, and hurried back inside, closing the door behind her with a click. At the same time, the shutters of a window on the second floor gave a simr click, as they were closed, and a shadow drew back from the curtains.


    "Marvellous! MARVELLOUS!" Lord ckwell said, shouting the second part of his exnation at the sky with a clenched fist, as though the horse that he''d bet on had juste first. Gleefully, he came striding across the grass to grasp Oliver by his shoulder.


    "Better!" ckwell eximed, speaking to Lombard, as he sided next to him. "He''s even better than you proimed him to be, Captain."


    "He might well be," Lombard acknowledged slowly, though when he said it, the words seemed to have a different meaning. It was as though he suspected Oliver had progressed once again, since his time resting.


    "And you yourself aren''t as weak as you made the loss of your sword arm out to be," ckwell said, pping him on the back with a meaty hand. "You still retained your crispness, did you not? How would you rate your strength? Well? What has you looking so glum, good man?"


    "The middle of the Third Boundary, I imagine," Lombard said. He was not one to overestimate his own abilities. "And I am not particrly glum. I was merely irritated to have been caught out, as I was."


    Lombard''s deration forced ckwell into silence. "¡­Truly? You have a better eye for these things. I only know strength," he had begun to speak far quieter than he had earlier, as though they were discussing a secret. "Do you mean to say that the boy''s strength exceeds that of the Third Boundary?"


    "At the very least, he can walk amongst it, if the conditions are right," Lombard said, not allowing his own feelings to get in the way of the assertion of a fact.


    "Oliver, how many times has udia blessed you?" ckwell asked, his voice still hushed, and his tone just as serious as it had been talking of Lordly duties.


    "Once," Oliver replied calmly.


    "That ces you in the Second Boundary¡­" ckwell acknowledged with a slight intake of breath. "And yet, you fight evenly with a man of Lombard''s experience, a man in his Third¡­"


    He went quiet. Deep in thought. He left them standing there for a whole minute. And then that minute stretched into two. The serving man behind him began to grow ufortable, as though expecting something was wrong. He shuffled nervously on his feet.


    "Next week," Lord ckwell dered. "We''ll have him sent next week."


    "To The Academy, Lord ckwell?" Lombard rified. From the tone of his voice, he seemed to have been expecting that. "But they are halfway through the year. Will that not pose problems?"


    "I care not. What say you, Oliver? Speak inly to me once more. You want strength, do you not?" Lord ckwell asked.


    "I do. Will this Academy really provide me with that?" Oliver said, unable to hide the doubt that coloured his opinion on the topic.


    "The Academy itself is a fine ce to learn ¨C a fine ce. Many fine knights have been flushed out through its bowels. Though, had thews been different, I would have admitted that it is likely not the ce for you. But go there you must ¨C and learn, you shall. As much as you are willing to be taught, that much you shall learn.


    Will you go there, despite the animosity you''re likely to receive, and despite the struggles you''re likely to have there, owing to yourck of knowledge, and your missing the first three and a half years of its instruction?" ckwell asked.


    Oliver frowned. He wasn''t that convinced. He knew nothing of this Academy, and still, no one had properly exined it to him. It seemed like a ce of tutge, but a tutge in what things? He said there were knights pushed out of it ¨C did that mean it was merely battle training then?


    If that was the case, how could it possibly be better than simply going to a true battle in itself, and throwing one into the reality of it? Instead of the aimless theorizing, and supposing, he would have much preferred to actually do it.

 Chapter 398 The Academy - Part 1

    "Go there," ckwell said, his voice hardening into a tone ofmand, "and I give you the task of breaking through the Third Boundary."


    "My Lord¡­" Lombard began to interrupt.n/o/vel/b//in dot c//om


    "I know what you mean to say, Lombard. It is not a thing that is done easily, nor even entirely by intention. But something tells me that boy will manage it, if he has a mind to."


    "The Third Boundary? To what end?" Oliver asked. He desired strength, and he would have pursued the Third Boundary regardless, but still, he raised the question.


    "To the end of serving me better. So that in these two and a half years of waiting, I have reason to raise you up. On your eighteenth birthday, you wille and fight under me. If you''ve achieved the Third Boundary by that time, a hundred men will be waiting for you ¨C and I''ll teach you how tomand."


    A sudden realization ran through Oliver, as he saw the sparkle in Lord ckwell''s eyes, and he began to realize just who he was talking to. He gulped.


    "Lord ckwell¡­" He dared to ask. "How many men do youmand?"


    The Lord seemed surprised by the question, but he must have seen Oliver''s intent through it, for his mouth once more broadened into a smile ¨C but this was a toothy smile, that showed his fangs, unlike the amiable smiles he had shown earlier. This was the smile of a predator. This man was one of the Tigers of the Stormfront.


    Discover exclusive tales on empire


    "Ten thousand men are loyal to me," ckwell informed him, wearing that same smile. "When I travel East, to relieve the frontline, they will call me Grand General, and I''ll be inmand of thirty thousand." He must have seen the look of startlement on Oliver''s face, for heughed. "Indeed boy ¨C it is as you think. Varsharn''s blessing ¨C you felt it on two hundred men, did you not?


    Likely the barest little tingle. Now, imagine the strength of thirty thousand, in the hands of an experiencedmander, one that knows how to use it? These swordsmen speak of udia''s Boundaries ¨C we Generals know of something greater. A general inmand of thirty thousand? There''s a man that exceeds the Tenth Boundary, without need of udia''s blessing to prove it."


    The blessings of the Gods ought to have beenplicated. At one point, mere months before, Beam had first been introduced to them. He''d fallen on them by ident, and was blessed by udia, as a world that was once closed to him finally began to open up once more.


    It was only udia''s blessing that he knew ¨C but he''d felt the edges of Angrith''s as he seizedmand of the vigers. It was just the barest thing, as ckwell had said, but it was there, and it was electrifying. To have that be increased anymore¡­ he shuddered to think.


    Aplicated marital world, but Oliver thought he understood it.


    ''So these are the men,'' he thought. ''The men that cause the Earth to shake and tremble, when they march their armies, and conquer all in their path. These are the men that history remembers.''


    "The other Generals would scold you for sharing such things," Lombard reminded him, though he himself didn''t seem particrly bothered by the fact. He too was looking at Oliver, his eyes were expectant. He could see the want on the boy''s face, as he dreamed of a future that might have been his.


    "Let themin," Lord ckwell said. "You have brought me a gift of the finest sought. You, and Dominus that raised him. Here''s a boy that''s worth breaking a few rules for. Tell me, then, Oliver. Will you go to The Academy?"


    "I will," Oliver said, much more quickly than before.


    For the second time in a short few days, Oliver was once again in an unfamiliar room, amongst an unfamiliar bed, with unfamiliar grey walls, unfamiliar drapes, wearing the unfamiliar Owlish sigil in a metal pin on his chest ¨C a gift from Lord ckwell.


    The room had been silent for a short few moments. Oliver stood, not wishing to break the silence of his own making.


    It was a smaller room than the one Lombard had allowed him to rest in, during his short stay in the Captain''spany, but this room, thedy had assured him was his.


    He didn''t know whether she was meant to be one of the professors, or whether she was a mere servingdy, but not wishing to offend someone before he had even gotten started, Oliver had been as polite as he could have been, in a mute sort of way, hiding any obvious feelings of discontentment that he might have had.


    But now that he was left alone, he could not hold the quickening of his chest, as he regarded the simple, single bed, and the small, rather bare room.


    A smile lit his lips then. For this room, this was his. The earlier woman had said so. She had even insisted that he decorate it.


    "Most noble children have their servants decorate their rooms to make them morefortable before the term starts, but seeing as you are joining us halfway through the year¡­ well, I''m sure you''ll be able to make itfortable soon enough," she had told him.


    Oliver wasn''t so sure that he really needed it to be made morefortable. This was his. A room of his own. A room of stone, with even stone on the floor. It was a remarkable upgrade to what he was used to ¨C that was, living on the forest floor.


    Even the house that he had rented from Greeves could not match it. That house had been more of a lean-to than a true property. There was an endless draft, no flooring to rescue him from the ground, and even the roof itself had been unreliable.


    But this was a room of the finest sort. A room with a ceiling that he would never be able to reach, no matter how high he jumped. Even if he had stood on Judas'' shoulders, he wouldn''t have been able to touch it.

 Chapter 399 The Academy - Part 2

    It was hidden with the bowls of one of the grey buildings on Academy grounds, a building fashioned after a castle, with battlements, and soldiers marching the walls as though it was truly a spot worth defending.


    They''d even had to pass through a portcullis and over a drawbridge to get here, in the horse and cart that Lombard had sent him in.


    In all ways but memory, people were treating him like a noble.


    Since ckwell had left himst week, after their conversation, the Lord had done all he could to ensure Oliver a timely spot at The Academy. He''d kept them up to date with several quickly penned letters ¨C letters that Marianne had been burdened with reading out to Oliver, as he spent his days quietly recovering.


    Oliver had been sure at the time that the meeting with the Lord had gone poorly. Both he had Lombard had walked back into the house quieter than when they came out. They didn''t nce at him. Despite ckwell''s enthusiastic exnation, Oliver still could not help thinking that the man was put off.


    Three letters had arrived on the first day. They cancelled such doubts. Explore stories on empire


    "You will be needing a sword for practice," the first letter had read. "Have Lombard rmend one to you ¨C we''ll emzon it with the ckwell sigil, so that all might know you are under my exclusive protection."


    With that letter, Oliver had shown it to Lombard wordlessly. The Captain had nced at it with a frown and then a sigh, before relenting, and seeing to it that Oliver had a sword worthy of nobility.


    That very sword now rested atp Oliver''s bed. A single bed, unlike the one at Lombard''s mansion. It suited him better.


    Even the polished leather of the sheath was finer than anything that Oliver had ever owned. It was decorated with strings of silver, curling around it like grasping fingers. Then, on the hilt of the de itself, just like the badge that fastened to the blue shirt at his chest, there was the watchful owl of the ckwell house.


    On the same day, a second letter hade for him.


    "What of armour? Have Lombard get you some armour that fits. You will need it for your drilling lessons," ckwell had said. Again, Lombard had read it, and again, he had frowned.


    "¡­He keeps the mask of the Lord in all things but matters that interest him. And then he truly does be something of a problem," he sighed. "Your armour will be seen to, fear not, though I can not promise you it will be as fine as the de that ckwell has given you. The man seems intent on rewarding you for your feats, even if he cannot do so openly."


    They''d both rushed around during that week. The maid had been amongst them, measuring him for clothes. Oliver had stood silently, stone-faced, not exactly sure what it was that he was getting himself into. He didn''t feel any particr excitement about the prospect of going to the Academy.


    From the way the others had spoken of it, it did not seem like the ce itself would be particrly interesting. He had viewed it more as a stepping stone between himself and the battlefield.


    But now that he was here, in a room of his own, his opinions had changed somewhat. Or rather, his opinions had begun to change that very morning, when Marianne helped him into the dark blue uniform of the Academy.


    Something about the clothing had just felt right. These weren''t the thrill bits of cloth that he''d been flung into the moment he''d awoken in a noble''s home. This was something more suited to his tastes. Something of the like that would go well with armour.


    It was a blue shirt that he wore still, very much like the shirts that the maid had been thrusting him into as ofte. Only, this shirtcked the thrills. A simplece ran instead down the next, holding it closed.n/o/vel/b//in dot c//om


    The trousers too, ck wool, as they were, were less oundish than the spotless fabrics that the nobility seemed fond of for their garden parties, with the thin cloth that seemed so likely to tear whenever one put even the slightest bit of strength into the movements.


    They were wide, and manoeuvrable. Tucked into his shining knee-high leather boots, he felt himself a king. This was the type of clothing that Oliver would have fashioned for himself, had he been given a choice in the matter. Simple, purposeful, and well suited to fighting.


    He shifted his foot inside the boot, feeling how easily the soft leather gave way to him. They fit like a pair of socks, perfectly manoeuvrable for any sudden movements that he might want to try. But despite that, the treads were still firm, and reliable.


    Then, the final bit of ir atop an otherwise perfect outfit was the jacket. Padded bits of wool, sewed all over with golden threads and innumerable hexagons that danced across his back and shoulders.


    The sleeves were circled by gold as well, and the colour was done more like a zer than a coat, with two long gs that ran down and folded across each other, with buttons about his stomach to hold it all in ce.


    That too, was an article that he would have feltfortable fighting in. Well, perhaps it was the slightest bit heavy ¨C but then he would merely toss it aside should the asione where he would need to duel.


    In short, Oliver was content with the clothing, and he was content with the amodation. Both were things that had scarcely been considered as ofte. He''d only thought of weaponry, of strength, and of battle. He''d forgotten the pleasures that money could bring.


    Speaking of which, inside his jacket, there was still a coin pouch, filled with a handsome sum. Lombard had handed it to him that morning.


    "Thirty golds, boy," he''d said, as he ced the pouch firmly within Oliver''s hand. "My own reward, for your assistance in battle. Were I a richer man, I would have given you more, but s, it seems that ckwell sees you are well taken care of. Take this opportunity for what it''s worth. The Academy may seem like a bore, but you may yet discover a use for it.


    If it proves to be intolerable, there will be a ce here for you, for as long as you need it."

 Chapter 400 The Academy - Part 3

    Thatst line had surprised Oliver more than the others. Lombard was not a man to show any sort of affection. To hear him say something that sounded suspiciously like goodwill, rather than an order, it was rather shocking.


    "Ah, and this as well. A letter from Solgrim. My man tells me a merchant sent it," Lombard said.


    Oliver had taken the scraggly-looking bit of parchment from Lombard''s fingers, and doubtfully unfold it, as he climbed into the carriage beside the maid.


    Slowly, he''d begun to read it, only to find that the letters ¨C letters that he already had some difficulty grasping, for his reading was somewhatcking ¨C were nearly impossible to make out.


    Seeing him struggle and frown, Marianne had offered to read it for him. She''d be sent, in Lombard''s ce, to ensure that Oliver arrived safely in the Capital.


    With that letter, Oliver was finally allowed tidings of the vige that had escaped him during his time away.


    It had only taken Marianne five or so minutes to read out the contents of the letter, but Oliver had found him reying them in his head over and over again, through the duration of the six-hour journey to Garsh ¨C a city to the South East of Ernest, where Lord ckwell and Lombard recided.


    Perhaps it was that letter that allowed Oliver to smile somewhat most honestly now.


    The pains of the battle had still not faded. His head ached, and his soul felt foreign. The nights, and the dreams with them, were a diforting affair. They could not even be urately described as nightmares. For it was not terror exactly that he felt during them. Or at least, not just terror.


    It wasplete disconnect, and disorientation. It was a profound sense of loss.


    With the letter, N was allowed to send her tidings.


    From it, she had told Beam that her mother was well. She''d been found unconscious, amongst the remains of the encampment, with a wound on her side from an axe. The wound hadn''t been quite enough to kill her. She''d been lucky to avoid any internal organs. With a few days of rest, she''d been on her feet again, tending to the injured.


    Stephanie had been a harder case. As with the other children ¨C many of whom the vigers did not know, but had taken in anyway ¨C there had been a lifelessness to her. A refusal to express any true emotion, as though fearing what it would mean to do so.


    But after she had been reunited with her little brother, she had slowly softened, until she had begun to speak once more. N seemed confident that she would soon be fully herself again, just as the others likely would.


    She had then expressed a teasing sentiment. "So, I heard ¨C all along it turns out you were a noble, eh? Or so they say."


    His heart had dropped hearing that, surprising even himself. He wondered why he cared so much what she thought about him. If he had been reading it up to there, he might have stopped, and set the letter aside. But as it was, Marianne had continued to read on, and Oliver wouldter be d that she did.


    "I''m expecting big things from you, Beam," she said. "I won''t forget what you did for us. You''re in ckwell, right? I''m going to work my way up with hunting. I''ll rebuild what I had before the attack, and then more still. I''m going to be richer than Greeves, richer even than a noble.


    Then, I''lle and find you to show off. You better note back to Solgrim before then, okay?"


    Hearing that, it had made Oliver''s jaw tight. If Marianne thought there to be anything odd about a noble''s rtionship with a peasant girl, she did not show it. She didn''t even try to glimpse the emotions written on Oliver''s face as he looked out his window to hide the tears that threatened toe.n/o/vel/b//in dot c//om


    She''d hidden it well with her words, as though suspecting that someone else would have been reading them ¨C but she knew. She hadn''t been fooled by the pretence of his sudden ascension to nobility. Whether she had figured it out herself, or whether Greeves had, it did not matter to him. All that mattered was that she knew he had not lied to them.


    Within her words, there had been something more important though. A hard shove in the back. Telling him to go forward. It surprised him to realize how much he had needed that. He craved strength, that was true, but with his situation changing so suddenly, and with his surroundings suddenly so strange and foreign, it was taking all he had to remain calm, despite the wounds to his soul.


    Her words helped put a salve on that. She had been the first friend that he''d made in many years, since his time as a child, before his family had been in. It was good to have her, even if she was not there in person. It tied him to something, so that he was not quite the drifting float in a sea of nothingness.


    With Dominus gone, that was important.


    And then he had read Greeves'' section. It began with the telling of Loriel''s funeral, and the funeral of the others as well. Again, Oliver found himself looking out the window at the mention of Loriel. He wasn''t sure if he could call her a friend. She''d been something else to him, during the time that he had spent alone. She was more like a sudo-mother, at times, or an older sister.


    Her loss stung. It would have been a tragedy if it was her alone, and he would not have been able to control the tears.


    As it was, hers became a piece of the painful puzzle, of all who had died that day. His master and Loriel stood firmly at the centre, cemented by the deaths of all those vigers, all those soldiers, and those children that had died in the basement. All that Beam had failed to protect. A weight on his shoulders, a sore throbbing wound.

 Chapter 401 The Academy - Part 4

    It was too painful to dwell on, so he did not. That did not stop the dreams froming regardless.


    The rest of Greeves'' letter hade with harsher words. He dered in no uncertain terms that he too would being to ckwell, whether he had to kill a string of nobles to get there. Again, Oliver found himself looking at Marianne as she read the merchant''s curses aloud with an unflinching expression. He curled into himself, embarrassed even from a distance by the foul-mouthed merchant.n/o/vel/b//in dot c//om


    And so it went. Greeves swore to drag himself to ckwell. He said he would finally have a piece of the market square there ¨C a ce nearer the top, as he called it. He swore to be a leech, when the time came for Beam to return to battle. He swore that he''d sell weaponry off it, and make a killing, for he knew who the victor would be, who would im the most heads.


    When his foul-mouthed derations had died down, he ended it with a more solemn note, something as honest as anything that Oliver had ever heard Greeves say.


    "Take care of yourself, kid. It was my honour to fight beside you."


    Those words hung in the carriage for nearly a minute. Marianne the maid, found herself staring at that boy of fifteen, with the scars gracing his cheeks, as he looked out of the window. She''d seen the wounds on his body, she''d seen him spar the Captain in the garden, and she''d heard tales of his glories.


    She suddenly found herself realizing that she couldn''t grasp him at all. She couldn''t even fit it inside her mind, just who this boy was ¨C for he was merely a boy. But Greeves'' words had nudged her slightly towards understanding. Her mind tickled golden for a second, as the slightest grasping of it reached her.


    For a boy of fifteen, noble or otherwise, to be receiving such words from a foul-mouthed merchant. Somehow, amongst everything else, it served to strike home just how special the youth that she had tended to was.


    As Oliver nced back to her, she regained herself, and began reading once more.


    The letter ended with shorter segments from other people.


    Judas said he was thinking of joining the army, if he could, but then Greeves had called him stupid for it, saying that he wouldn''t be able to fight under Oliver until he turned eighteen. Judas had decided to wait till then, and if life was boring, he decided he would seek Oliver out, and ask to fight under him.


    He added after that that he was making no promises. The wounds on his back still kept him up at night. He was hoping to find a good woman to take care of him before then.


    Oliver grinned at that, but did not say anything. Marianne noticed the expression. It seemed out of ce on the grim boy''s face.


    With Judas, there came tidings from Mrs Felder, thanking him.


    There came tidings from one of the elders, whom he had fought alongside.


    Then a handful more families had written to him, thanking him again. Many of them seemed to believe the truth that he was a noble. They called him sir as they wrote to him. It was penned in Greeves'' hand, and Oliver could only imagine what the merchant had been thinking as he wrote it.


    Those that had called him ser, and not been able to see the truth of it, yet offered him thanks regardless, he did not begrudge them that. Those who had been closest to him knew, and that was what mattered.


    With Dominus'' sacrifice, the way had been truly opened for Oliver. He stood in his room, realizing that now. Even with his death, his master had secured a future for him, a way for him to improve his skill.


    And now certain of where he stood, thanks to the letter he had received from the vigers, Oliver was feeling more confident about facing such a future.


    Here he was, in another unknown ce, in the clothes of a noble, in the room of a noble, with hardly an idea of what was expected of him. Yet there was a stillness to his heart, as he assured himself that all would be well. The world had been simplified for him. Theplicated matters had been handled. All he needed to do was raise his strength.


    He had not forgotten his promise to Lord ckwell. If he secured the Third Boundary before he left The Academy, then there would be men waiting for him tomand. There was solidness in that too. Solidness in both the future, and the past. It left him fully able to enjoy the present, to the end that the aching in his head allowed him.


    Once more, he smiled as he looked around his room. An unlit candle sat on a table by his bed. There was a wooden chest at the end of the very same bed. Other than that, the room was entirely empty. Thest of the daylight was streaming through the small ss window, which had been left ajar, allowing a cold breeze in.


    He kneeled on his bed as he reached up to grab the window, and close it.


    He set his pack down on the bed, and left it there, as he eyed the firece ¨C that would need lighting. Lombard had left him with a good selection of clothes, and a good selection of coin. ckwell had ensured that he had armour and a sword. Oliver had to trust that those were the only things that he needed, for he had a sudden feeling that he was on his own now.


    He might have stayed in his room to enjoy it longer. No one had given him any ideas of what was expected of him to do next. In truth, he hadn''t really been listening to the woman that had ushered him in.


    But like a dog, he found himself unable to settle, without knowing a little more about where it was that he was left. He didn''t trust any of the others to see that he was well attended to. He would not wait for them to call upon him, if he did not need to. He stood up from his bed, and strode across to his door with authority, pulling open thetch, and stepping outside.

 Chapter 402 The Academy - Part 5

    He was not want to see it then, but with the swiftness of his movements, and the cut of his clothes and hair, at that moment, he looked very much the son of a noble.


    He found the hallway to be quiet as he stepped out into it. He looked left. It continued on for a long way down, with many rows of doors, and many torches burned. He assumed they were other rooms in which the nobility would be staying.


    He looked to the right. There were fewer doors there, and an open archway stood in the wall on the left, inviting someone to walk through it. He recalled that he''d been led through there, as the earlier woman had brought him in.


    Just beyond the archway, at the bottom of the corridor, there were a set of spiral stairs. It went both up, and down. Oliver noted all these astutely, and put his hands behind his back, as he affected a gait that he assumed would be more suited to a noble.n/?/vel/b//jn dot c//om


    He decided to head back through the archway in which the woman had led him. The left end of the hallway didn''t look particrly interesting. It was either the archway, or the stairs. He figured familiar ground was likely to be more interesting.


    He noted torches on the walls as he walked. Windows still allowed light to stream through, but he assumed in the evening that they would be lit.


    He noted the stone floor too, and how the heels of his boots cked against it as he walked. It was all new to him. It was a challenge to decide what to focus on, and what was a relevant bit of information.


    Through the archway he went, into a hall that he recognized. This too seemed surprisingly empty. It seemed more like a conjunction connecting different parts of the building than it was a ce in itself.


    More corridors ran off all four sides of the hall, and since he knew that the corridor to his right would eventually lead to the outside, he decided to go to his left, here he could at least hear the noise of conversation, assuring him that this was not merely a building full of ghouls. Stay tuned with empire


    It took him several long strides before he could even begin to nce down the corridor. The hall was unbelievably vast and empty. He found himself marvelling at the waste. Back in the vige, such a fine stone shelter of that size could have easily housed ten families, or even more ¨C and they would have considered themselves well off to live there.


    He spotted two boys ¨C or were they men ¨C as he crossed into the corridor.


    They were engaged in conversation as they walked, with oneughing rather frequently at the words of the other. Oliver nced at them, and found himself surprised at the yellow of their shirts. He had given to believe that he wore the school uniform. He took that to mean the same thing as an army''s uniform ¨C that each man''s clothes were identical.


    But the style of their clothes was different to his, and then the style of them again was different to each other. Their trousers were ck, it was true, but one of them wore a considerably thinner material than the other. Oliver wasn''t sure what it was, but it wasn''t wool.


    He frowned as he passed them.


    They noticed him at thest moment, and their eyes widened in apparent startlement. One nudged the other with a sharp elbow, drawing an irritated look, before he gasped, and realized the same thing that the other boy did.


    Now that Oliver was level with them, he was sure that they were older. They were taller than him for one, and their faces were harder set, in the distinctive way that a man''s was. He judged them to be seventeen, or perhaps a little older.


    Sharply, they drew themselves into a hurried bow as he passed them.


    Oliver had been set to merely stroll by without a word, but the bow made him pause. It was a stiff, formal bow, forty-five degrees at the waist.


    He looked down at them, as they bowed towards him. He could even see a droplet of sweat run down the forehead of one of them, as it licked its way away from his ck curls.


    Oliver broke a second-long silence. "Sorry ¨C why are you bowing to me?"


    One of them looked up sharply, apparently startled by the question. Despite the fact that they were obviously older than him, for some reason they were forcing themselves to actpletely subserviently.


    The two shared a look, apparently unsure if there was a trick in the question.


    "Etiquette, ser, I expect..?" Came the hesitant reply of one of them. This one had dark blonde hair that was approaching brown. Oliver noted him to be the one that had jabbed the other with the elbow.


    "Etiquette? I am not a Lord, or the like. There is no need for other nobles to bow to me, is there?" Oliver asked, cocking his head to the side. It was a genuine question. He knew absolutely nothing of noble society.


    Worse than that, he wasn''t even particrly well-versed in how upper-ss peasants were expected to treat each other. He''d alwayspletely failed in his interactions with Greeves. He''d treated them like equals, even before he had the position to believe that. In hindsight, it had turned out fine, but Dominus had pointed out more than once how his ipetence had left him weak.


    He didn''t wish to remain weak much longer. To survive as a noble, he knew, he would have to learn quickly. Perhaps quicker than he had even with the sword. It was a dangerous knife edge that Dominus had ced them on ¨C him, Lombard, and ckwell. None of them openly expressed just how dire the consequences would be if Oliver''s true birth were discovered, but Oliver himself had not forgotten.

 Chapter 403 The Academy - Part 6

    Again, the two men beneath him shared a look, as if they could not tell whether they were being teased. They seemed hesitant to speak, for fear of offending.


    "My name is Oliver Patrick," Oliver offered, when faced with their hesitation. "I have only arrived here but half an hour ago. I am unfamiliar with your ways. I ask again: why do you bow?"


    Experience more tales on empire


    That seemed to nudge them. This time, the boy with the ck hair spluttered a reply, as though more assured that it would be fine. Oliver did not miss the stiffening of the other''s face as his friend spoke ¨C clearly, he did notpletely trust his judgement.


    "We''re yellows, ser. Of the serving ss. You see our shirt?" The boy said.


    "Of course he sees your shirt," his friend hissed in rm. The other boy went red. Oliver did not have to wonder about the extremity of their reaction. He assumed ¨C from first-hand experience ¨C that they were likely familiar with those of a higher rank looking for any opportunity to get offended.


    "Ah, I see," Oliver nodded, epting it quite easily. He might have smirked, had he seen them bowing to him at a different time, given all the trouble the soldiers had caused in Solgrim, hefting their weight as members of the serving ss, looking down on the peasantry. But having fought amongst them, Oliver held no grudges.


    He took those instances for what they were, even if he did not approve of them. "I had thought that the Academy was for nobles only."


    Again, the boys shared a look. They seemed to be rather good friends.


    "With respect, ser¡­ You say you''ve just transferred here today?" The blonde boy asked, raising his head a little. He seemed to be feeling morefortable, as Oliver made a distinct effort to appear easy-going.


    "That''s right. As I''ve said, I have no idea what it is that I must be doing, nor even particrly what I am here for," Oliver said. He decided that the best course of action was to be honest. The two boys were showering him with respect regardless, he was confident enough in his abilities that he did not mind putting his weaknesses on disy, regardless of what they might think.


    Especially, if by doing so, it meant that he might correct those weaknesses. "By the way, you can stop bowing."


    The boys straightened at that, and being able to look at him, they regarded him aknew. Oliver could feel their gazes, as they traced the scars that cut his cheeks. They seemed impressed by them, in the ways that boys unused to the true reality of battle are.


    Despite them clearly being older than him, Oliver was struck by the distinct feeling of being the elder.


    They caught sight of Lord ckwell''s pin on him.


    "This should make your life easier," the letter penned by Lord ckwell had said, when the pin was delivered. "It will let everyone know of your ties to the ckwell family. Even the nobility should not take you lightly with it on your chest."


    "Oliver Patrick¡­" The blonde boy from earlier repeated, likely unaware that he was doing so. "I bid that you take no offence, ser, when I say how umon it is to have someone transfer in halfway through the year. How old are you, might I ask?"


    "I am fifteen," Oliver said inly.


    Again, a look of surprise. "That too is odd. That is Lord ckwell''s pin you wear, but will you forgive me for saying that I have never heard of you..? Even amongst the serving ss, it is well known that a child should be sent to the Academy by his twelfth birthday. To do anything less would be to neglect him¡­ Meaning no offence, of course."


    "Complicated circumstances," Oliver said dismissively. "Being what they may, here I am, in this corridor, truly unaware of what it is that I am meant to be doing. Have you any guidance for me?"


    "Well, ser, given the time of day, many of the other nobles will be finishing up thest of their sses," the taller blonde boy exined. His tone was less urgent than it had been before, but he still had not lost his wariness entirely ¨C he continued to speak to Oliver with all the respect that he could muster.


    "sses, hm? Which sses?" Oliver asked.


    "Well that would depend, ser," the boy said again, making an awkward wince. "Forgive me¡­ Could it be that you have not arranged to be in any sses yet?"


    "I do not think I have. At the very least, no one has told me anything of the sort," Oliver said, considering it. "So I may choose what sses I wish to attend, you say?"n/?/vel/b//jn dot c//om


    "You may," the boy agreed, "though such things are usually decided in the presence of a professor."


    "Take me to one," Oliver decided. "If you are not too busy. It seems to me that it would likely be appropriate to start whilst there is still light in the sky. There doesn''t seem to be any particr reason for me to wait in my room."


    "We could¡­ If you insisted, ser," the blonde boy said, though from the awkwardness of his tone and the rmed nce that he shared with his friend, they both seemed to think that it was a particrly bad idea.


    "Though I do think it would likely be better for you to wait, and register for such a ss, so the professors know to expect you¡­ And well, many of them would be rather irritated to find their ss interrupted halfway through."


    "I''m sure it will be fine," Oliver said dismissively. "What ss is nearest? Anything interesting?"


    "There''s alchemy, that way," the curly-haired boy from earlier finally spoke up, but the look that his friend shot at him seemed to make him wish that he hadn''t. "Of course¡­ that is if you''re interested in that sort of thing."


    "Alchemy?" Oliver said with a frown. "I know nothing of it."

 Chapter 404 The Academy - Part 7

    "There''s also Advanced Strategy being taught to the third years, down that way," the blonde boy put in. "We could guide you there, if you wished, ser, but again I would advise against it, for the reasons that I said earlier. Also, it would be improper for members of the serving ss to go so close to the doors of a noble ssroom."


    But even as he put in thatint, Oliver was walking in the direction of Advanced Strategy, which happened to be at the end of the corridor in which those two serving ss boys had been heading down. "Advanced Strategy sounds interesting," he said as he walked. "I must be a third year then, right, since I''m fifteen?"


    The two older students were left a few paces behind him, as Oliver seized the initiative with enthusiasm, and strode towards the doors of his first ss, even as the sun threatened to disappear beyond the horizon, and the curtain of darkness fell once more.


    They whispered urgently to each other, in a blind panic, as Oliver got further and further away. Eventually, they must have decided it was best not to offend him, even if ¨C at first nce ¨C he seemed to be rtively easygoing,pared to many of the other nobles that they''d had the displeasure of interacting with.


    They reached an agreement, and had to hurry after him at a run. How was it that the boy had managed to cover so much distance so quickly when he appeared to be walking at a rather leisurely pace? The wooden heels of their boots pped against the stone of the floor as they ran.


    Abruptly, Oliver came to a stop outside of a thick wooden door, riveted with iron inttices across it. The dangling ring handle almost invited him to push it open, and he could hear a voice booming in lecture inside it. He was sure this was the room that he wanted, despite the several other ¨C seemingly identical doors ¨C that had been strewn along the corridor beside it.


    Stay tuned to empire


    "This is it, right?" Oliver confirmed with the blonde boy who had given him the point in the first ce.


    Breathlessly, the two came to a stop next to him, suddenly realizing that they hadn''t needed to run at all. They hadn''t even really needed to follow, for the boy had quite easily found it himself, even with such vague directions.


    Dominus might have nodded sagely at such a thing, for he had well understood that instinct of Beam''s long ago. In return for an inferior general level of perception, the boy seemed able to pick solid routes forward, no matter the terrain. They weren''t always the best routes, but they seemed to eventually lead to wherever the boy wanted.


    Such a skill was remarkably useful in the mountains, when any path could lead to a dead end, or worse. But here, within the walls of the Academy, as a neer, it had its uses as well.


    "It is, ser," the blonde boy said, he dipped his head in a light bow as he said it, as though expecting to be dismissed.


    Oliver shed them both a genuine smile. He found that he could do so, for he was almost childishly excited to find out what he might discover inside. He knew that both Lombard and ckwell had seemed to see the Academy as a barrier for him ¨C more of a waste of time, than anything else. But still, that was not enough to quench the nervous anticipation and excitement that came with something new.


    Here he was, a peasant in the costume of a noble. And here he was, about to attend his first ss ¨C or at least, the first half of a ss. Would what he found inside lead to him getting stronger? Or would it merely be another waste of time? Whatever the case, he realized, he was pleased to be here.


    Fresh from battle, with his wounds still aching, and his head and soul pounding with an ever-increasing viciousness, he was still pleased to be here. His pleasantness of mood was odd, even to him, and it proved infectious.


    And so, he smiled at the serving ss students that had been useful to him, and it was an entirely honest smile, entirely unlike what a noble should be giving to their likes. With it, he gave his thanks, and he asked a question.


    "Thank you for your assistance. I owe both of you a favour. What are your names?"


    The blonde boy was too stunned to reply at first. His curly-headed friend ¨C with his cheeks a rosy red from his flustered state, and the shininess of sweat on his forehead ¨C answered first, affably, and with a smile of his own. A human responding to the intentions of another human, forgetting his ss. Oliver decided he liked him.


    "My name is Kaya Forefoot, ser," he said, honestly, and enthusiastically. He seemed just as pleased to be giving his name to a noble as Oliver did collecting it.


    "You owe us no favours, ser¡­" his friend said carefully, more reserved, his eyes seeing beyond what was merely in front of him, with obvious intention. "But as for my name, I am Jorah Millmaster, if it pleases you."


    Two entirely different people, through and through, he had none of Kaya''s upfront honesty, but despite that, Oliver decided that he liked him too.n/?/vel/b//in dot c//om


    "Very good, and I am Oliver Patrick, once again, thank you for your assistance," Oliver said, nodding his head briefly at them, enough to make both of them stiffen, as the noble came perilously close to bowing to the mere serving ss.


    Oliver pushed the door open with nary a knock. He merely grabbed the iron ringlet that served as a handle, and thrust it bristly inwards, as though he was palm-striking a goblin. Both Jorah and Kaya were forced to step swiftly from the view of the door, lest their yellow shirts be seen, and they be used of spying on a noble''s ss.


    They walked away hurriedly, but as they did so, they couldn''t help looking back at the odd boy that had introduced himself as Oliver. They wondered at the soldier''s scars on his cheeks, but neither of them yet said it aloud.


    Mostly, what they wondered at was the unbelievable confidence needed to enter a ss halfway through on his first day, to break that unwritten taboo, and immediately incur the ire of the professors.


    Of course, the reason for his confidence was simple: Oliver had no understanding that he was breaking etiquette. He merely forced open the door, briefly acknowledged the sudden silence that had befallen the ssroom, and then turned to close the door again.

 Chapter 405 The Academy - Part 8

    The room reminded him of a church, or a temple. He''d never truly been inside one, but he''d seen them from the outside, and he''d seen ceremonies done out in the open, from a distance. He''d even seen the Elder stand upon his podium on the Winter Solstice, and offer sacrifice to Ingolsol.


    The room reminded him much of that. All the seats facing towards a single man. But instead of the man ¨C for it was a man ¨C being raised up on a podium, instead, the room was on an incline, so that each row of wooden benches gradually rose up higher than the other, so that all could see over the heads of those in front of them, no matter where they sat.


    He afforded a brief nod to the quietened room, before he continued to nce around, and assert to himself that it did indeed appear to be much like a church.


    Behind the man that had been teaching, there was a wall of te, made up of several square blocks of the stuff. The man had been scribbling diagrams of battle on it, with all sorts of arrows, and all sorts of scrawling notes on it. At a single nce, to Oliver, it seemed like an awful lot of information.


    After observing it for a moment, he looked for a ce to sit, not particrly wondering why it was that the room was still caked in silence, nor why it was that every single head was turned to face him.


    As he nced around, he noticed something else. The presence of women. There were at least fifty people, and to that group of men, there were at least ten women. He was unable to help raising an eyebrow at that. He caught the re of a particrly stern-looking young woman as he looked around. He held her gaze for a moment, more harshly than he had intended to.


    Her stern mask broke, and she looked away, embarrassed.


    There was the sound of a loud cough, a cough that was clearly not a cough, but more of a signal derived to attract attention.


    This time it was the professor''s turn to raise an eyebrow. He was a man of middle age, tall, and wiry, with thick eyebrows, and a pair of sses that sat on his long nose, and a rather grey professor''s gown slung over the top of an equally grey tweed jacket.


    "Well?" The man asked.


    Oliver did not understand particrly what the question was in regards to, so he merely continued to hold the man''s gaze, and remark how odd he found his clothing to be.


    He''d expected a certain ir from the nobility, with frills on their shirts and their like, and these extravagant jackets ¨C but this man''s appearance, somehow, was more reserved than theirs, but without really changing any of what they did.


    Maybe it was the colours, Oliver thought. With the dark green, and grey, and the dark brown moleskin of his trousers. But there was certainly still a waistcoat there, and a tie, and a jacket to tie it off. It was a fashion style that he was unfamiliar with, but he found himself fascinated with it. Under the guise of holding the man''s gaze, he merely studied it more.


    "Boy," the man said irritably, cutting through the silence. "You have interrupted my ss. Do not merely stand there. You wear our Academy''s colours, but I do not recall seeing a face such as yours. Are you merely a stray pup? Or am I simply a forgetful old man?"


    "I am Oliver Patrick," Oliver said. "I overheard that there was a study of Advanced Strategy being taught here. I came because I was interested."


    There was a stir at his words. The Patrick name, and the pin of an owl on his chest, those scars on his face as well. They were all topics of discussion. Amongst the nobility, much was known, for there were not so many of them. For a son of Oliver''s age to merely spring up out of nowhere through the mist was a great rarity.


    "Ah," the professor said, his tone softening. "I had heard rumour. I did not expect your attendance to be quite so soon. Nor did I expect to find you within my ss."


    It was Oliver''s turn to be surprised at that. "Why would I not find myself in your ss¡­ ser?"


    Experience new stories with empire


    His mistitling of the professor caused a few chuckles of amusement. There was a particrly wolfish grin that Oliver caught from a gangly youth in the front row. He regarded him with narrowed eyes.


    The professor waved his hand, as though theughter was no more than a bad smell, and he was wafting it away. "''Professor'' will do well enough, Patrick. We may discuss what was expected and what was unexpectedter, as well as the proper enlistment for sses. For now, sit, and allow me to finish my lecture. I find a lecture unspent is liable to lead to stomach ache."


    There were a few more amiable smiles at the professor''sst line. Oliver guessed that it was amon phrase of his. Taking the man''s advice, he shifted to the bench nearest him, at the back of the room.


    A small boy had been upying the wooden bench''s armrest, his chin cupped by his hand, as he watched the world with distant eyes, but as soon as Oliver made a pointed step towards him, he seemed to snap out of his revelevery, and return to reality, as he awkwardly tried to make space.n/?/vel/b//jn dot c//om


    He ended up moving too far to the left too quickly, nearly falling on top of the girl that she had been sat next to. He managed to regain his bnce as he knelt against her. She shot him an icy look, and the boy immediately went red, as he hastened to apologize.


    "S-ssory, Madame Nina¡­" he spluttered. She turned her head away from him in a pompous gesture, as she folded her arms under her chest. Watching them, Oliver was quickly reminded that even amongst the nobility, there were strict hierarchies.

 Chapter 406 The Academy - Part 9

    The professor''s voice filled the ssroom with practised ease as Oliver settled himself.


    "Now, a formation of spearmen find themselves surrounded on three sides. To the front, we have the heavy swords infantry favoured by the Garsh to the East, and then on both of the spearmen''s nks, we have enemy cavalry harrying them. Remind me, what do we call such a scenario, and how do we make use of it?" The professor said, calling out the question to the ss.


    When no one deaned it fit to answer, he turned to Oliver. "Young master Patrick, perhaps you have an answer for us?"


    "Hm? Spearmen surrounded on three sides¡­ What are the numbers?" Oliver asked, instinctively straightening up. He was hit by that familiar attentiveness that used toe whenever Dominus had asked a problem of him, bidding that he solve it.


    The professor tapped a line of chalk-written glyphs with his long teaching stick on the board. "We standardize the number of each unit here," the professor exined patiently. "It allows one to view strategy a little more abstractly."


    Despite his tapping on the board, Oliver was having difficulty making out the characters that he pointed to. Writing ¨C and reading for that matter ¨C had never been his strong suit. There''d never been a time in his life when he''d truly worked on them. He wasn''t sure if the professor understood that, for he soon gave Oliver the information that he needed.


    "For infantry, we can generally take them to be two hundred and fifty men strong. For cavalry, fifty to a hundred. Here, a hundred," the professor said. "Now, knowing that, what can we say of this particr unit of spearmen?"


    "It''s a lost cause," Oliver said bluntly. His bluntness inspired a few smiles around the room. It was evident to all of them that this was material he had not studied. Oliver felt no particr shame about his ignorance, he leaned back in his chain, feeling the wood against his back, and sniffed calmly, taking the problem for what it was, and the people for what they were.


    The professor smiled kindly, but strictly, as he listened to Oliver''s answer. He must havee to the same conclusion as the others. "I imagine this is not material that you have studied before, Master Patrick?"n/?/vel/b//jn dot c//om


    "It is not," Oliver agreed.


    "An unfortunate thing. It is not easy to cover three years of study in but three heartbeats. Regardless, I am in agreement. Such a unit is indeed a lost cause. Will call such a unit a ''Burning Building''. Now, Master Patrick, what can this Burning Building do for us, given that we are incapable of saving it?" The professor asked.


    "It depends," Oliver said with a shrug.


    Again, there were snickers at his unconventional, seemingly obvious answer. Oliver noticed that the boy next to him was shrinking ever further away.


    But, surprising and quietening their snickering, the professor responded firmly to that, with more force than he had the others. "Exactly!" He said. "That is the foundation of strategy. We speak of Whirling Dragon, and an Infantry Spear Thrust towards the heart of a General''s camp, but what use are such strategies without context?


    The board changes, every single time, ording to the subtlest of differences. What we attempt to do here, is pick patterns out of the infinite, and make things more manageable. But even then, above all else, context is important." He paused his tirade for a moment, to drink water from his ss atop his table, under the te board. "Write that down, and affix it to your brains."


    The students began to write as he bid them to. They had thin parchment in front of them. Or at least, it was thin by Oliver''s standards. They inked their pens in the weighted leather ink satchels that they carried, and the room collectively began to sprawl what the professor had just said.


    "One must understand, that strategy is distinctly unlike the rest of your subjects. Rtivity is the most important aspect of strategy. Mathematics ¨C there are things you can learn, right ways of approaching problems, and much of the time, even the right answers. In the histories, you had merely need remember and record information, with as much nuance as you fancy.


    The truth in strategy is always rtive, always nuanced. That is the heart of our subject. Do not approach it in the same way that you would your other academic endeavours."


    As he spoke, Oliver found himself lightly nodding in agreement, as he recalled the struggle that he had had learning Battle with Dominus. He''d tried again and again to remember different techniques, to try different approaches, but every time, it depended strictly on Dominus what he was able to do.


    If he wanted to test a particr approach, and Dominusyered his troops so that it was impossible, then Beam would lose again and again. He''d had to develop situational approaches.


    "Now¡­ I think we have just enough time to finish off our little problem. Recognizing rtivity in strategy is all well and good, Patrick, but one must also be capable of solving the problem in itself, lest we be mere philosophers. You have an army of a thousand infantry garrisoned a mile away. Your spear unit was caught unawares, during a routine drilling.


    The attackers noted the opportunity, and yourck of horses, and they attacked. Thus we have our Burning Building. That is all the context you will be given, Patrick. What orders do you give?"


    Before the professor had finished, another question had been on the tip of Oliver''s tongue. He''d wanted to know if the army that the attackers had brought was the full scale of their might, or whether there was likely to be arger force elsewhere. But here he was, without that information. It was not too unfamiliar a feeling.


    He closed his eyes for a moment, briefly recalling the Battle of Solgrim, and the weeks leading up to it. Fighting monster after monster, only for their numbers to increase. The problem had not been solved until they cut off the head of the snake ¨C and that snake had been Francis. It was far too easy to return to the scene of battle, to recall all of those that had died that day. Explore more at empire


    When he did so, the same dreams that readily came to him at night pounded in his ears. The death cries of men and women that weren''t meant for battle. The lives of Lombard''s soldiers, tossed away so early on.

 Chapter 407 The Academy - Part 10

    "Failure! FAILURE!" They roared. How was it that the children screamed the loudest?


    He found himself gripping the wooden of the bench so tightly that his knuckle went white. He had failed. He acknowledged that to himself. Almost madly, he acknowledged that to himself, every time they came, and every time he had the strength to reply. Experience more content on empire


    Like a wolf, he growled back at them. ''Aye, I failed. I failed, damn you. But I will get stronger for it.''


    When he opened his eyes again, he was smiling. These were exactly the type of problems that he wished to solve. He did not know the professor''s name, not yet. But the man could teach him things, many things. Oliver got that sense from him. The next time that he had to battle, he would not be so weak.


    "Information," he said, more to himself. But the professor overheard it, and he frowned.


    "I don''t think that answers¡ª" he began.


    "I would gather more information out of it. Your Burning Building ¨C it buys time, and it buys attention. If we can sendmands to the Burning Building, then order it to stand its ground. Men fight better when they are not fleeing, even if those men are surrounded. With no cavalry of our own, we will not catch the enemy, so the best we can do is hope for information."


    This time, no oneughed. The boy in the front row, with his gangly arms, and his long hair that gathered in a mop around him, even he was looking to the professor, an unsure expression on his face. He wasn''t so sure that it was the wrong answer this time.


    "¡­Good," the professor said atst. To Oliver, he suddenly sounded tired. "That''s good."


    There was the loud sound of wooden heels thundering hard onto the tiled floor as the boy at the front hastily brought himself to his feet. "But professor!" He cried, the irritation obvious in his voice. "Aren''t you being too lenient? Just because he''s a new student, and doesn''t have the foggiest of what he''s talking about, I don''t think there''s any reason for you to indulge him?


    This isn''t what you taught us ¨C you''ve taught us tactics, and true strategy. What he talks about is just¡­ vague problem-solving. Anyone coulde up with the answer of gathering more information, without half the knowledge that we have."n/?/vel/b//in dot c//om


    The professor listened to the outburst patiently, as Oliver received the harsh res of the boy, and even harsher points, as he ented his words with physical venom. The boy was taller, now that he stood, those long thin limbs of him raising him to tall heights, like stilts, and his long straight ck hair danced around as he aggressively made his points.


    "And what would you have solved this with then, Gargon?" The professor asked, without only the smallest amount of irritation, despite receiving the full brunt of the student''s venom.


    The boy was only too eager to reply. He puffed himself up. "The distance is irrelevant. Force the soldiers at a hard march, and employ the typical infantry. We''d have blood in response for it, and even be able to pin the cavalry if the conditions were favourable."


    "To cover a distance of a mile?" Oliver said, fighting back augh. "To catch them before the Burning House has burnt itself out, you''d have the soldiers sprint it. You''d have them do their best work getting to the battlefield, only to be exhausted by the time they arrive. Now you''ll lose five hundred."


    Oliver had trained with the soldier''s under Lombard. They were well-trained men. Fit men. Their endurance was admirable. They could fight for hours at a time quitefortably. But that was not an all-out sprint, that was a carefully measured pace.


    Even at an all-out sprint, they''d be running hard, in full armour, for nearly seven minutes if they were fast, to cover that mile. The air would be long gone from their lungs by then. Of course, given a minute or two, they could soon recover that ¨C but this boy wanted them into battle immediately, against attackers that would likely flee.


    The youth bristled at that, and made his reply. The professor seemed content to let them argue it out. "What do you know of soldiery, boy? You''ve barely been here ten minutes. I don''t know what hole you''ve crawled out from, but I bet you hardly know how to swing a sword. The tutge of the Academy is second to none.


    Would you mock me, by assuming that we are equal, when youck its many teachings?"


    "Gargon," the professor warned. "We are speaking of strategy, not status. Keep it civil, and answer the question."


    But there was a smile waiting on Oliver''s face. He''d always been easily bristled, always been one to bite. He''d bitten back at Greeves long before he had thepetence to sustain such an act. Against a youth like Gargon, someone so fresh-faced, so free of scars, Oliver was not likely to tolerate him so freely.


    "No, I would not assume that we are equal," Oliver said. "Perhaps in strategy, you might know more terms than I, but I can see from the thinness about your arms that you have no clue ofbat. You would turn your soldiers into walls of paper before you even have them battle the enemy.


    Do you not see that your professor brought this problem to you because he knew that you could not ¨C or should not ¨C solve it with what you''ve been taught? He tempted you with it, with a mile, and you fell for it."


    Gargon''s eyes were full of anger, and he was tearing into his lip, ready to utter an angry response, but when he heard how Oliver finished, he rounded on the professor, to see if it was true. The old man merely gave a wry smile, and shrugged.


    "I am a strategist, after all," he said, amused. "Would you not expect me to be setting traps within my problems?" And then, when it looked like Gargon would physically explode with rage, as his face purpled, he made an effort to cate him. "I imagine Patrick likely would have been the least receptive to this trap of mine, since I had not intended it for a student.


    Perhaps this is one of those rare asions where an outsider''s perspective is likely superior, no?"


    The professor seemed to be directing that question to Oliver, as though asking for his assistance in calming Gargon, who''d grown rather disembroiled in his effort to assert the superiority of his knowledge.

 Chapter 408 The Aura of Greatness - Part1

    With a shrug, and a calm smile, Oliver merely said, "perhaps." He was not so involved in the argument that his anger had boiled over. He''d merely done what was instinctual, and flicked off a fly that had been attempting to bite him.


    He surprised himself, a little, as the room once more settled into silence.


    The others were looking at him differently by now, as he sat with one leg casually draped over the other, leaning back against the bench, ever sofortable. Before, he had been misced, and interesting to that degree. And now he was interesting for another reason entirely.


    The Beam of the past would have risen to Gargon''s challenges, Oliver was sure. But the Beam of the past would not have been able to stay so calm whilst doing so. Oliver hardly noted a change in his emotions as he fended off the denominations of a stranger, in a room full of strangers, and his peers.


    The battle had changed him. Or maybe, it had broken something in him. Perhaps it was growth, or perhaps it was merely scar tissue. Whatever it was, Oliver''s calm handling of himself had attracted the attention, ire, and even admiration of some of his peers. And he had not even had his first day yet.


    When the ss ended, a brief call from the professor was enough to make Oliver stay behind. He remained seated on his bench at the back of the room, as the other students passed him, many giving him more than a curious nce as they went.


    Friends murmured to each other, clutching their books to their chests, as they came up the two sets of stairs that sat in between the three rows of benches, and they made their way through the heavy wooden doors on either side of the room.


    None of them said a word to Oliver as they left, and it was not long before the room was drenched in silence, as the professor sorted the papers out on his table underneath his ckboard.


    With the absence of the other students, Oliver finally roused himself, and wandered down to the front.


    "You asked for me, Professor?" He said after a moment, when the professor did not turn to acknowledge him.


    "I asked you to remain," the Professor said, without looking back over his shoulder. "That is the pin of Lord ckwell that you are wearing, is it not?" He asked, still without having turned around to look at him.


    "It is," Oliver agreed. Find more to read at empire


    "And you''re aware of what such a thing signifies?" The Professor said, his tone serious.


    "Not entirely," Oliver said honestly.


    The older man must have finally finished organizing his papers, for he turned on his heel and drew himself to full height. He was a tall man indeed, and he towered over Oliver. "It marks you as a Representative. Someone to be treated on the level of a blood rtion. I warn you of this, in the hopes that it might make your words more tentative, as you argue with your peers."


    Oliver frowned. "Are you warning me that I was arguing with the wrong person?"


    "I may well be," the Professor agreed. "Mills Gargon, is the son of Lord Gargon, a ward of the South. It would trouble your Lord ckwell to make enemies of him, and for frivolous reasons."


    "I see," Oliver acknowledged with a serious nod. The Professor seemed to approve, for he nodded back.


    "And now, let me make a wager, based on that same pin. Your admission here was something of ast-minute proposal, by Lord ckwell, mm?"


    Oliver merely nodded, not pausing to ask how he knew.


    "That would exin theck of forewarning the administration has had for youring. ckwell is an impulsive man. Or perhaps one might call him an instinctual man. It is part of what makes him such an aplished general. Intuition is far harder to teach than cold hard logic," he gestured at the board as he said that. "Now¡­ The reason I asked that you remain behind, is partly out of curiosity.


    For whatever reason, it is my ssroom that you''ve wandered your way into, before pen was put to paper and you were signed up for anything else. I wonder, is your interest in strategy genuine, young master Patrick?"


    "It is," Oliver affirmed with a nod, though he was sure why the professor had such a disbelieving look on his face as Oliver assured him of that.


    "I see¡­ It is simply unexpected, you see¡­. When one hears of your father ¨C brilliant swordsman though he was ¨C he never had the heart to indulge too much in strategy. It seems I''ve made the mistake of assuming that the same would be true of his son," the Professor said.


    Oliver stiffened at the mention of Dominus. The professor must have noticed that, for he quickly corrected whatever assumptions Oliver might have been building.


    "That is of course without intending any offence. I have had the privilege of witnessing his swordsmanship on asion, when he was a younger man, and it was a marvel, even then¡­" He broke off suddenly, with a sigh. "Forgive me, boy, for a strategist, it does seem that I have a poor knack for dancing around the issue.n/?/vel/b//jn dot c//om


    Allow me to be blunt in my warnings, out of respect for your father¡­ The manner of his recent passing ¨C it has resulted in very little praise being spoken of him.


    Mostbel him a coward for having been absent for as long as he was, and no man of standing dares to im that he believes the rumours of Dominus'' passing through to the Sixth¡ªAh, forgive me, I should not talk of the boundaries before youe of age."


    "I know of what you speak, but if your traditions demand that I do not, then I will feign ignorance," Oliver said.


    That made the professor go silent for a few long moments. "¡­There had been other rumours, of course. Of the Patrick heir. A boy in his fifteenth year, winning scars on a battlefield against the Yarmdon elite. Some even whisper that he knows of the Second Boundary."

 Chapter 409 The Aura of Greatness - Part 2

    His eyes were searching, squinting, as though evaluating every ounce of Oliver''s being through them. Oliver calmly met his gaze. The man did not radiate an aura like Lombard, or like ckwell ¨C but there was something about him that still screamed danger, like the re of a serpent.


    "Is that what they whisper?" Oliver said carefully. "Then perhaps there is more truth to rumours than there were in the past. But only a fool would believe such stories, wouldn''t they? Or so Lombard tells me. A boy of an age to mine, breaking through to the Second Boundary, and having his chance on the battlefield where others had not had theirs ¨C that would cause quite a stir."


    "It would," the professor agreed slowly, as he broke out into a smile. "It would appear I''ve been granted a rather interesting student so soon into the mid-year. I warn you though, young master Patrick, I exaggerate not, the waters here swim against you. For yourte arrival, halfway through the year, and halfway through the school, you would already have much trouble.


    But there are rumours that will set enemies against you. All loyal to the King share his distaste for Dominus, and by extension, his heir. Even a professor with a particrly interesting student would be unlikely to move against such a force. I expect that is why ckwell gave you that pin, to offset some of that aggression."


    "Then I suppose I''d better tread carefully," Oliver said. He could feel the tension, but he did not yet feel the fear that should havee with such a threat. How many students resided in the school? How many possible enemies could he have?


    "You should," the Professor agreed. "But for now, I merely return to being Professor Volguard. I cease to offer advice, as one with a tinge of admiration for a boy''s deceased father, and resume my duty as a member of the faculty.


    Since your full enrollment seems to have been interrupted part-way through, I ask, what other studies would the young Master Patrick be interested in pursuing ¨C aside from Advanced Strategy, of course."


    That ''of course'' came paired with a rather oppressive smile, practically forcing Oliver to continue with his sses there, even if he had not decided on such a thing already.


    ¡­


    ¡­


    By the time he had finished with Professor Volguard, it was already full dark, and the stone corridors were lit fully with torches, running down along their cold depths.


    The professor had left him at the doors to the grand dining hall, after signing him up to his other sses, and giving him an attendance schedule that he would need to follow for it. He''d nced at the schedule, and found it surprisingly lenient, with a handful of free periods scattered throughout the week, with which he could do whatever he wished.


    ncing at the timetable and those free periods, he was once again reminded of just how different ¨C and possibly easy ¨C the noble world waspared to the peasant world that he was so used to. He was used to his days being filled withbour, from very, to digging holes, and then the relentless training that Dominus had put him through. He''d never been given such an amount of free time before.


    With the periods from eight until six being devoted entirely to schooling ¨C with those free periods scattered at times throughout the day ¨C and then the time outside of that being entirely his own, he couldn''t help but feel as though his life had suddenly be easier.


    In the middle of Volguard''s enrolling, a rather flustered woman hade to find them, in such a hurry that her sses almost fell from her nose. Oliver recognized her as being the woman that had dropped him off at his room earlier. Apparently, she''d told him to remain where he was, and she''de to fetch himter.


    She''d been in a bit of a panic, after immediately losing a pupil whom had such strong connections to a Lord.


    Luckily, Volguard had been there to calm her down, and assure her that everything was being tended to, but that did not do much to stop the look of frustrated irritation that she''d shot Oliver on her way out. He couldn''t help but think that he''d made yet another enemy there.


    And now here he was, in that grand dining hall. If the lecture room was like a church, then this room would have been a cathedral. It had high vaulted ceilings, and a carefully tiled floor, with the asional mosaic of a fearsome predator scattered evenly across it.n/o/vel/b//in dot c//om


    There was enough space for a thousand people to sit in there, at least. The sheer size of it was enough to justify the changing of buildings ¨C Oliver had been led from the doors of the castle that he''d initially entered, into the bowels of another,rger castle, that he''d soon learned contained the food quarters for the whole encampment.


    That vast space was filled with equally vast benches, giant things of solid varnished wood. There must have been fifty of them in total ¨C and in a hall thatrge, such an amount really was not many ¨C and yet due to the size of the tables and the benches that matched them, the room wasfortably filled.


    Oliver nced up at the lit chandeliers that hung up high above, hung on chains, and filled with hundreds of candles. He''d wondered how they managed to get them up there, until he saw the wheel that the chains coiled around. He assumed they must have to turn the wheel every time they wanted to lower it, and light the candles. Experience more content on empire


    The room had as many windows as the rest of the buildings within the castles, only these were considerablyrger, stained with ss at ces, taking much of therger walls, some of them depicting scenes of ancient battles, and others merely disying patterns.


    So distracted was Oliver by all the marvels of the room, that he''d already begun walking past the food stands, before a cook called out to catch his attention.


    "Ser! Are you not eating?" A cook in spotlessly clean white overalls called out to him, hisrge hat a floppy messy on his head, making it look like a second set of hair.

 Chapter 410 The Aura of Greatness - Part 3

    Oliver turned and stepped towards him. He stood behind a tableden with dishes. Beside him, there were many other tables, and many other cooks waiting behind them. "I suppose I am," he told the man. "I''m new here ¨C am I allowed whatever I want?" Continue your adventure with empire


    The question seemed to surprise the cook, for he raised an eyebrow in surprise. "But of course, ser. There''s a range of different dishes down the length of the line, whatever takes your fancy, ya just need point, and we''ll get it scooped onto a te for you."


    Oliver grinned at the man''s direct manner. The cook likely didn''t know why he was grinning. A week away from Solgrim, and Oliver was already missing the more rough-spoken ents of the country folk, to the point where even aparatively well-spoken servant was enough to make me feel nostalgic.


    "I''ll have that then," he said with a point. "Is that beef?"


    "Beef, and a nice sweet sauce to go with it, yes ser. Would you like any potatoes with that? Perhaps you might be interested in the salty loaves that we cook up here ¨C they''re good with the sweet sauce, I can tell ya," the cook said.


    "A salty loaf and the beef sounds perfect," Oliver said.n/?/vel/b//jn dot c//om


    "Right you are!" The cook agreed, returning his grin. He hastened to cut some meat for Oliver. "How much do you want? Hm? This much?"


    "Can you double that?" Oliver asked hesitantly. It still felt incredibly strange to be able to eat so much. Even at Lombard''s mansion, where the maids had insisted on feeding him until he was full, giving him all that he''d asked for, he was still a long way from growing used to it.


    The cook broke out into a grin this time. "Ser, as far as the cooks are concerned, all this meat is yours ¨C you nobility pay these wages. The more ya eat of it, the happier we are. So you take as much as ya want, and if you fancy more, it''ll be apliment to see youe back."


    "Thank you very much, then," Oliver said, epting the meat and the loaf, returning the cook''s smile.


    Faced with such friendly energy, it was hard to pay Volguard''s warnings much mind, but as soon as he turned on his heel, and was forced to face the rows upon rows of eating students, that smile quickly faded, and he was forced to once more face the reality ingrained in the unfamiliar ce.


    He looked for a ce where he might seat himself. There were only around a quarter of the students ¨C that Oliver could see ¨C wearing blue. The other tables were filled with yellow-shirted students, both male and female, and as far as Oliver could tell, every single one of those ces was taken.


    The only small pockets of space were on the blue-shirted tables, amongst the nobility, where they were eating at a considerably slower pace than the rowdier serving ss.


    The hall was filled with loud conversation, much of iting from the yellow side ¨C for the dining hall was quite obviously divided, with all the noble tables grouped together in the area that was closest to the door, and closest to the many roaring fires that burned in the hearths set into the stone brick walls.


    "Gods, they''re a rowdy bunch," he heard one noblement, as a particrly loud bout ofughter came from the serving ss half of the hall. Oliver noted thement, and spared a nce at the boy who had said it, studying him, wondering what about the boy made him look so miserable.


    Was it his thick ck eyes that hung so solemnly over his eyes, or was it those wide ears that seemed liable to catch every bit of noise?


    The boy caught him staring out of the corner of his eye, he turned rather abruptly in his seat, as though to confront him. But something made him pause. Oliver saw the recognition in his eyes ¨C though Oliver was quite certain he had not seen the boy before. But it was not him that the boy was recognizing, it was the pin that clung to his chest.


    "¡­Patrick," he heard the boy mutter under his breath. That stirred some of the students around him, and they were looking at him as well. They weren''t openly hostile, but they were close to it. None of them brooked the slightest bit of friendliness, but neither did they seem to be in a hurry to make an enemy out of him.


    Instead, from those eyes, it was more like he was a diseased man, and they wanted as little to do with him as possible.


    He spared them a forced smile and a nod, before he went turning away, feeling their eyes on him, and hearing the muttered conversation that followed along behind him as he took his steps.


    It was the nobility that the stares came from. The serving ss students did not appear to care much for who he was. A handful of them looked at him, noted his badge, and then simply went back to the conversations that they were having before.


    From that treatment, it was the yellow side of the room that Oliver was finding himself more inclined towards, but even without being told so, it was painfully obvious to him that it would cause more than controversy if a noble was to seat himself amongstmoners.


    Distracted by his thoughts, he found himself walking for longer than he would have liked to, his te of food in one hand, as he scanned the benches that he walked along for a possible ce.


    As he walked, he must have wandered a little too close to the yellow bench, for a rather excitable boy ¨C engaged in animated conversation ¨C chose to hop off his bench at the same time that Oliver was passing.


    Oliver was lucky to catch sight of him out of the corner of his eye, else he was quite certain that his food would have greeted the floor. Instead, he found himself ducking to avoid an out swung arm, that passed over his head, and disturbed his hair.


    The boy hadn''t hit him ¨C andrge boy that he was, he seemed nearly a man ¨C but the surprise of feeling his hand touch something must have unsettled him, for what had been a hefting backwards off the bench now turned into an awkward scramble, as he sought to dodge whatever it was that he thought was behind him.

 Chapter 411 The Aura of Greatness - Part 4

    His booted legs tangled behind themselves, and his back was bent fully backwards, with his half-empty te in one hand, on a sure track to spilling itself.


    "Careful," Oliver said quietly, catching him with a single arm at his back, whilst reminding him of his tipping te with a nod of his head.


    Now that he''d found himself steadying the youth, Oliver was once again reminded just how big he was. And not just big, the boy had thickness to him as well, with broad shoulders, and enough weight to make use of his frame. There was even the beginnings of stubble on his chin. A heavy boy.


    Find more to read at empire


    The boy''s first instinct was not anger, but rm, for he knew that it was the table of nobility behind his. If he was going to be shing with anyone, it would be them. Then he righted himself enough that he could see Oliver''s blue jacket, marking him as a noble, and then his eyes darted to ckwell''s pin at his chest, marking him as one to be treated with a Lordling''s level of respect.n/?/vel/b//jn dot c//om


    Oliver might have sworn he could see the man''s soul leave his body. He almostughed ¨C almost. For here he was, a mere peasant, dressed in the attire of a noble, and the boy had worked himself up so frantically at the mere prospect of identally barging into him.


    "S-s-ser..." the boy stammered. He was at least two years Oliver''s elder, Oliver was sure of it, and he towered over him with that age ¨C it seemed like everyone was towering over Olivertely ¨C and so to see him showing such an urgent level of respect, despite Oliver having done nothing to earn it off him, it was a remarkable thing indeed.


    "It''s fine," Oliver said with a wave of dismissal. He moved to walk away. But apparently, that was the wrong thing to do. The boy seemed to confuse him for a vindictive noble, for he called out to him.


    "S-ser! Please wait! I''m really sorry¡­ I''ll make it up to you, just please don''t¡ª" the boy began, well and truly petrified.


    Oliver frowned, wondering how he might assure that man that it truly hadn''t bothered him, when he caught sight of Kaya and Jorah spooning food into their mouth a little ways down the table. Jorah was doing his best to look like he wasn''t involved, but Kaya was looking towards Oliver with obvious recognition.


    Oliver smiled back at him. He had to shout a little to be heard, given that the boy was seated a handful of seats away from where they were.


    "Kaya!" Oliver said. "How do I convince him that I''m not going to do anything?"


    First, Kaya seemed started that Oliver had remembered his name ¨C even though he had only given it to Oliver a mere handful of hours before ¨C and then he was on his feet, snapping to attention, as though a drill sergeant had called him, and then in the next instant, he was confused, and looking across the table to Jorah for guidance.


    Jorah, for his part, let out a long sigh. He finished his mouthful, and, taking his te with him, he marched around the table, and grabbed Kaya''s arm with him as he passed, pulling him towards Oliver.


    "When a noble addresses you, you make yourself avable to them. Don''t stand there like an idiot. You''re going to get hammered down one day, when you irritate the wrong one," Jorah said in exasperation, but despite his tone, it was evident that he cared for that friend of his.


    "My apologies, Ser Patrick," Jorah said with a light bow of his head. "Please forgive my friend''s ignorance of proper etiquette."


    "Only if you''ll forgive my own ignorance," Oliver said. "It seems that I''m bothering the two of you yet again. I''m trying to convince this fellow here that I don''t intend to do anything ill against him, apparently I must have said something wrong¡­"


    "Karesh¡­" Jorah said, shaking his head.


    "Hm?" It was only with that motion from Jorah that made Oliver catch on. Big man that he was ¨C far taller than Kaya ¨C he had those distinctive ck curls swinging long on his head, and that same excitable energy, with the same flushed cheeks, and faintly sheened forehead from sweat. "Oh, are you two brothers?" He asked, pointing to him and Kaya.


    The two recoiled at that, disying far more emotion at thatment than they should have in the presence of nobility, causing Jorah to grimace yet again.


    "Second-Cousins," Kaya said firmly. "Not even full cousins."


    "Ser," Jorah corrected.


    "Not even full cousins, ser," Kaya said with a meek blush at his mistake.


    "Karesh, you can calm yourself. I expect if you stay any longer, you really will be irritating him. I saw what happened. If anything, you should be thanking Ser Patrick for catching you before you fell over and made a fool of yourself. Don''t bother him with your apologies when he''s already made it clear that they aren''t needed," Jorah said stiffly.


    "Oh¡­ Er¡­ That''s right. Thank you," Karesh said, with an awkward dip of his head. He still seemed nervous enough to shiver.


    "Karesh, is it?" Oliver noted, adding the name to his memory. He had not forgotten that lesson that Dominus had taught him all that time ago ¨C of the importance of making connections. Now, with Volguard''s warning, that lesson of Dominus'' seemed even more pertinent. With the rest of the nobility against him, he wondered just what the serving folk were like. "You''re a big fellow.


    You''d make a good shieldbreaker, if you were nning on joining the army."


    And that wasn''t untrue. He was certainly big. Not quite as big as Judas, but then, he likely hadn''t finished growing yet.


    Thatment, when all others had failed, seemed to finally breathe the ice with Karesh. He drew himself up proudly at being praised about his height. Despite being older than Kaya, it seemed they both shared the same likeable simplicity. But then he seemed to realize something. "¡­Shieldbreaker? The Garsh don''t use shields, do they, ser?"

 Chapter 412 The Aura of Greatness - Part 5

    Oliver merely shrugged at that. "The Yarmdon do, and our spears struggle against them. A shieldbreaker would prove invaluable on battlefields like that."


    "The Yarmdon..?" Karesh tilted his head consideringly.


    Oliver noted that Jorah was looking at him oddly, after hisment about the Yarmdon, but the boy quickly cleared his throat, and moved them on from it. "Well then, Ser, if that is all, we had best going¡­ There are still a good number of serving ss men to feed ¨C if we dally too long, we''ll be onst dinner for weeks," Jorah said.


    Oliver nodded his agreement. "Well, thank you for your assistance. I''ll see you around."


    They bowed to him, and left. It was a good excuse from Jorah. It was something that Oliver hadn''t known. From that tidbit of information, he guessed there must have been a few thousand serving ss students, if they were being forced to hurry their lunch to house them all. But such wasn''t the reason for their stiffness. It was his noble title.


    They simply couldn''t feelfortable around him ¨C they weren''t allowed to feelfortable around him.


    He sighed at that thought, and looked again for another spot at the table, as he realized that he would have much preferred thepany of those boys to the shifting nces, as thinly disguised hostility that he felt emanating from the nobility.


    He finally picked an open seat at random, beside a bespeckled girl that seemed to be nearly as much of an outcast as he. She squeaked like a startled rabbit as he sat next to her, but he ignored  the reaction, and fell to wondering just how many more friendly encounters he''d be likely to have as rumour trickled down from the nobles and found its way through the serving ss.n/?/vel/b//jn dot c//om


    Would Kaya and Jorah stay away from him once they heard? Did it even particrly matter?


    He frowned at the thought.


    CRACK Experience more tales on empire


    And with a nce, he realized that he''d broken the spoon that he was gripping. A brief nce at the girl next to him told him that she''d gone white. She all but fled the bench a momentter.


    Well, whatever happened, Oliver decided, even if the whole world turned against him, he would fulfil his promises, and he would seize strength. The thought brought the faintest flickerings of burning rage back to him, enough to warm his heart, and bring a smile back to his lips.


    ¡­


    ¡­


    Oliver''s day began in earnest, with the sses that he''d chosen. There were seven such things that he was allowed to choose, and a range of subjects in which to fill those slots. He was surprised by how much of it was the more theoretical subjects, like history, and philosophy, and literature. He had thought the Academy to be a ce dedicated tobat, and war.


    It had started that way, at least, Volguard had assured him, and true to its roots, there were a number of things that a man could choose if he had intentions on the battlefield.


    One such subject was Command ¨C a subject reserved for the nobility. There was also the Advanced Strategy that Oliver had already taken, then there was Archery, Universal Close Combat Training, Swordsmanship and The Art of Duelling, Physical Enhancement and Field Medicine.


    Thest of which he''d chosen merely on a whim. In truth, there were a number of subjects that he would have liked to add to that list. He had wanted to try and train with the spear as a singr thing. He had a hunch that in discovering its strengths, he might be able to further his swordsmanship.


    Archery was chosen as a product of N, and her proving its worth ¨C though he doubted that he could ever achieve her uracy ¨C and Field Medicine was chosen for much the same reason, after N and her mother had tended to him a number of times.


    It seemed to him to be unlikely that he would be able to go without getting hurt in the future, so he figured he might as well get used to dressing those wounds himself, and perhaps he might even have learned something from it.


    What he didn''t expect was that only women seemed to have such a thought.


    He''d arrived at the ssroom earlier than expected ¨C another lecture hall, much like the room that Volguard had taught in, only this one had a single spotless steel table under its te board,rge enough to fit a man on.


    He''d chosen a seat at the back, in a corner, to take up as little of the bench as possible, after realizing that it would be an ordeal to get anyone who wanted to sit next to him. And in that seat, he''d watched calmly, as the room gradually filled with students.


    After the first handful, he''d realized that all of them that hade in were girls. He''d smiled at that, recalling how surprised he''d been that there were women attending the Academy at all. It was onlyst night that he''d found out the gender ratio was mostly neutral, with a slight bias towards men, at 60% to 40%.


    But then as nearly thirty people filled the room, and every single one of them was a woman, Oliver had the grace to feel a little bit panicked. He wondered if he might have chosen the wrong ss, and ended up in something more feminine, like sewing.


    But to his relief, a man finally walked in, joining the other forty. Only, this man ¨C or boy ¨C seemed just as feminine as the girls, with hair as long as theirs, just as silky, just as shiny, and with a face like a doll''s.


    By the time the professor had joined, Oliver was having trouble stopping his eyebrow from twitching. His presence in the room was met with faint giggles from the girls that noticed him. The professor ¨C a bald man, with a thickly scarred head ¨C merely acknowledged it with a grunt.

 Chapter 413 Where Danger Lies - Part 1

    "Finally, one of those fools have realized that their wounds will not dress themselves," he''d muttered, beforeunching into a grizzly ount of the many legs he''d amputated, and why he''d done it, and how you know where to mark your amputation, so that the rot did not spread.


    For the first half, most of the terms that the man had used had sounded like a foreignnguage to Oliver, but once he started interweaving his own stories as a battlefield medic into the mix, Oliver had sat up in his seat, eagerly enraptured, making mental note of all that the man had said, being quite sure that he would need such knowledge himself one day, if he was to lead an army, and keep his men well.


    As the man spoke, Oliver even found himself asking questions, which drew more heads his way.


    "How do you judge how long the wound will take to heal?"


    At first, the man had seemed surprised that he''d spoken at all, but with a grunt and glint of his angry eyes, he gave a swift answer.


    "Depth, and width of a wound. The deeper you go, the longer it takes to heal. Muscle is slower than the skin, bone is slower than both."


    "Are there no other ways to save a leg, other than amputation?"


    Enjoy new adventures from empire


    "Not if you want to keep the man alive. Aye ¨C he''ll curse you for it. You all should expect that. You''re crippling him. But that''s your decision. Leave the rot to spread, and what you cut away will only berger, until you have to cut away the man''s whole life.


    Make your choices carefully."


    The others, he noted, weren''t particrly keen on asking questions. He found himself, for much of it, being the only one that bothered to. He wondered if he was breaching etiquette by doing so, or whether the girls in the ss were simply scared of the gruff scarred physician that lectured at them.


    But before the ss was over, one girl tentatively raised her hand.


    "In the absence of alcohol, what might we use to cleanse a wound?"


    A sensible question. It seemed to be going outside of their course material. Oliver had likely instilled such an effect, for he had no idea what the course material was, and merely asked questions based on his curiosity.


    But the man surprised them all by grunting, and sketching three equations of the board.


    "Bogroot. me, then boiled. You get a syrupy mess. Should you be on campaign, and your supplies run out. That would be your first choice. It looks simr to dock leaves, but it has a serrated edge to the leaf.n/o/vel/b//in dot c//om


    You''ll want to keep an eye out for that," he said.


    He must have noted the curious nces that were being shot his way, for he grunted an exnation. "Aye ¨C yes, alchemy, a basic form of it. I know I''ve cursed the alchemists in the past, but what works, works. Learn it, remember it, use it."


    "Aside from bogroot, there''s round leaves, and northberries, all of them with antiseptic properties. These are things that need preparing in advance. If you find yourself in the field, unprepared, your only other friend is me."


    He looked at her, as if to ask ''does that answer your question?'' the girl nodded seriously, and hurriedly finished off the rest of their notes.


    By the time they left the ssroom, Oliver would have liked to imagine that some of the other student''s hostility toward him had faded. Now their nces seemed to be filled with more curiosity than the distaste that they were showing him earlier. He returned a few of the looks with pointed stares, making a handful of them flinch, and blush.


    As he left, the professor called out to him.


    "Patrick."


    Oliver turned to look at him. "Yes, professor?"


    "You have true interest in this?"


    Oliver nodded the affirmative. "I do, and I''ve learned much today. I hope to learn much more."


    The gruff professor gave another one of his characteristic grunts at that, and nodded, waving him off with his hand. It seemed to be a good enough response for the man.


    The days did not pass uneventfully. Every moment was a new experience for Oliver. That which the rest of the nobility took for granted, he found himself pausing to marvel at.


    As he walked the grounds of the Red Castle ¨C that which he was staying in ¨C he''d paused, for far longer than he''d intended, to admire the vast boatingke, with the visiting geese resting there, as they flew further south for the winter.


    Theke itself was of an admirable size, for that which was merely a courtyard feature. It wasrge enough for a boatsman to exert himself properly as he canoed around its perimeter. And there were trees growing all around it, some creeping over the water themselves, like piers. It was a beautiful spot. He knew it would be even more beautifule spring, and summer.


    The slightest kes of winter had finally begun to make their way towards the Academy, and a dusting of snow covered the grounds. Pausing his admiration of the pond, once more Oliver looked back on the Red Castle.


    Four solid towers at each corner,plete with four gate-keeping pairs in the middle of each wall, and then a central keep, and a cluster of buildings, all for training, and for sses. It was an enormous marvel. And surrounding that marvel were acres and acres of fields, all carefully tended to, and filled with picturesque delights like the boating pond that Oliver had discovered.


    And that was only one castle of four. There were five castles in total, each of them equalling the Red Castle in size. The Yellow Castle and the Blue Castle contained a handful of Oliver''s other sses, and he found that what they offered was at least equal to that of the Red Castle¡­ But as he walked to and fro, he could not help but marvel at the true scale of the Academy.

 Chapter 414 Where Danger Lies - Part 2

    From one castle to the other was a solid twenty-minute walk, at least, depending on where you were. And then from one of the coloured castles to the Central Castle ¨C the castle in which the dining hall was housed ¨C was fifteen minutes.


    That Central Castle stood, as its name indicated, in the centre of the other four, like a magnificent keep, three times as tall as the rest of them, and just as wide. A castle within four castles, with tall stone walls protecting all of it. It would have made for a terrifying fortress to conquer, and yet here it was, being devoted entirely to schooling.


    There was much to learn, and much that simply looking would teach him. This was not the ce that he had assumed it to be. When they named it an Academy, and told him that he was to be taught there, he''d imagined in his head a sword school of the type he would have dreamed of attending as a child, back in the vige, as he discussed such things with his friends.


    He imagined something like a temple, back then, arge space, hidden away on the top of the mountain, about the size of Greeves'' house, clean and simple, honed with the de.


    This was entirely different.


    This was like a small town.


    "YOU BASTARD!"


    And it came with all the instances of petnce that one would expect from a small town. Oliver had seen numerous such scuffles during his many little excursions ¨C he still had yet to fully map out the entire Academy, forck of time ¨C though this was the first time it was happening directly upon the path that he was walking.


    The professors seemed loath to interfere with such disputes. In fact, they seemed to encourage them. Oliver had a feeling that there was far more going on at this Academy than simply sses, though he had not yet been able to put his finger on quite what that was.


    Ahead of Oliver, two yellow-shirted students were grasping at each other, as though grappling. Beyond them, a group of more than twenty other yellow shirts stood, shouting towards the two arguing boys in some form or another.


    It was mid-day, and Oliver had his sword sheathed at his hip. It would be his first weapons training practice that afternoon, and he hadn''t known whether he would need his de or not, but he''d decided to bring it anyway.


    Oliver was forced toe to a stop, as the crowd ¨C and the two arguing boys ¨C took up the rest of the path that he''d been walking down. Oliver paused, resting his hand on his sword, merely observing. He still had plenty of time until his next ss, and he was curious about what they were up to.


    Behind them, he saw a wooden A frame, with hammers and discarded nails near it. It looked like the beginnings of a wall to a house. Maybe that''s exactly what it was.


    "Hey! Gras!" One of the yellow-shirted boys noticed Oliver, and pointed at therger boy ¨C the one who seemed to be winning their little grappling match ¨C in something that approached dismay.


    With a swift final pull, therger boy - he wasn''t particrlyrge, justrge enough to berger than the boy that he was fighting with ¨C pulled swiftly on his opponents hands, dragging him towards him, then swiftly stepped out of his way, standing to attention, as he bowed to Oliver.


    The other boynded with a pained cry on the cold paving stones, with their sprinklings of light snow. Stay tuned for updates on empire


    Oliver continued to stare, despite the bow. The collection of yellow shirts beyond this lot were bowing as well. It seemed to finally rm Gras that Oliver remained there.


    Oliver continued to watch calmly, as the boy dragged himself up off the floor, cursing, before noticing Oliver, and forcing himself into a strict bow. "S-sorry, ser!"


    Ignoring him, Oliver asked a question of therger ¨C and likely older ¨C Gras. "What are you doing?"


    Gras shot a nce at the boy he''d been wrestling, noticing the scrape on his head with rm.


    "Oh¡­ apologies, ser. It was just a minor disagreement."


    "Not that," Oliver said, pointing with a finger towards the building. "What''re you building?"


    The question washed away Gras'' growing panic, and reced it with puzzlement. "We''re setting up our store¡­ We''ve already received permission from the professors, ser."


    "A store?" Oliver repeated thoughtfully. It really was like a town. Though he didn''t expect members of the Serving ss to be the type to run shops. "I wasn''t aware that the Academy had shops."


    That confused the boy even more. "Of course it does, ser¡­ Most of them are concentrated around the Green Castle, but as long as we have permission we can put them up wherever."


    "And what type of things do these stores sell?" Oliver asked. He didn''t expect the students to be capable of making anything, not beyond baking, and the like. His experience of mechanisms was entirely through Greeves. Greeves bought things, and he resold them.


    The king of raw production ¨C like gathering meat, and monster parts ¨C that he had N had engaged in should have been impossible on Academy grounds.


    "Meat, monster parts¡­"


    And then those first words came out of Gras'' mouth, as though he was reading Oliver''s mind.


    "¡­gathered from the Academy''s forest. But then there''s also the armour and weaponry crafted by those in the smithing sses, and then potions by the alchemists, clothes by girls in fabrics sses... but surely you have heard such things before?"n/?/vel/b//jn dot c//om


    "I have not," Oliver said. "I have been here for a day and a half now, so I know entirely too little about everything. Your information has been useful, thank you, Gras."


    The boy stiffened when Oliver mentioned his name. Oliver smiled knowingly. There was more than one way to get a name, after all ¨C one had merely need listen. "What type of shop are you and your friends constructing?"


    "We''ve amission from Lord Gargon for a tea house, ser¡­ Though it was said to be a bookshop just a week ago, so it''s possible that he''ll change his mind once again."

 Chapter 415 Where Danger Lies - Part 3

    "Oh? Lord Gargon is going to tend to this tea house himself?" Oliver asked. The idea amused him, seeing the stern and easily angered Gargon walking around in an apron, offering tea to his patrons.


    But Gras quickly quashed those expectations, looking at him as though he were mad. "No, ser. It would be frowned upon for nobility to tend to the store himself. Especially a Lordling. I don''t know the details, but I am sure he will hire someone."


    "And he pays you for this, then?"


    "A silver each, ser, for ten days work. It''s fair money, especially for the experience we get doing it. The Lord Gargon is a generous man."


    "Hm¡­ And yet, there are arguments to be had, it seems," Oliver gestured with his head to the boy. He''d fallen, and wet his uniform from the damp snow. He was a mixture between infuriated ¨C at what Gras had done to him ¨C and terrified, as a noble stared him down.N?v(el)B\\jnn


    Gras flinched. "It was nothing¡­ ser."


    Oliver looked at him, straight-faced. The man seemed to boil beneath his gaze. This was another use of it, he realized. This was the power of a noble. The power that Dominus had given him, that Lombard had given him, and that ckwell had elevated.


    But there was a time that he could make a man squirm even without it. When he would grit his teeth, and feel the rage as he interpreted ack of respect. He took the slightest lid off that anger. It came so easily to him now, easier than it had even as a ve ¨C he knew there was a hole in him at the moment, one that dreadfully needed addressing, but he didn''t have the means, so he ignored it.


    With the anger came the gold of Ingolsol. The flecks danced around in his eyes, and the aura of a Second Boundary swordsman swept out. No. It was more than that now. He was not merely a swordsman any longer. He''d been changed in many ways from that battle, and with it, he''d epted the mantle of the leader.


    That changed his presence, gave a weight to it.


    He stared Gras down. The boy nearly folded into the ground, as though a great weight had been ced on him. He was not the only one to tremble. The boys behind him, they shivered as well. It was as though their instincts told them to take a step back, but such a move was physically impossible, so they contorted themselves in other ways, to make that distance, and wrestle with the fear.


    "Apologies¡­ A-apologies, ser!" Gras said.


    "You humiliated your fellow in front of a noble, unsporting of you, was it not?" Oliver saw how Gras'' eyes widened in surprise that Oliver had caught his quick movements. "You''ve been training unarmed, mm? I suppose it must feel good, to feel that extra power within you, to be able to throw around your weight a little more strongly."


    "Apologies, ser! It won''t happen again!" Gras said, all but shouting, as he trembled beneath Oliver''s gaze.


    "I''m not condemning you for it," Oliver said, though he did not release his hold on the boy, and merely increased the intensity of his re. "I would merely see talents put to better use. As you should have noted by now, I am without information, but in the future, it seems I might be without other things as well, mm? This ce is more interesting than I expected it to be.


    I might have use of a man of your talents."


    Gras looked up, his eyes wide from the pressure, contorted by surprise. "Find me, if you find something interesting¡­"


    Oliver paused, as he considered that, and his anger disappeared. His hold on them vanished, as a smile contorted his lips. Humour took over. "Actually, I have a proposition. Gargon is paying you each a silver, is he not? I will pay you two silvers each, for this same project."


    "B-but-but ser!" The boy who had been covered in water spluttered, clutching his arm, as his sses ran down his nose. "That''s far too much money!"


    "Ahhh," Oliver shed with understanding, as he saw the boy and Gras exchange a nce. "He was underpaying you, was he? Because you''re younger, and less experienced? Come now, I can afford to pay you two silvers, even if the Lordling cannot, so you may cease your minor squabbling for scraps, Gras."


    Gras gulped. It was a lot of money. "But we had an agreement with Gargon¡­ We could do the next project with you¡ª"


    "No, not going to work. I wish for this one," Oliver grinned a mischievous grin, his smile wide. He knew that he was toying with them, but he simply couldn''t help it. The noble title came with such power. And Gargon ¨C he''d already revealed himself to be a poor sport. The whole situation with the Academy, with a ring eye wherever he looked, it irked a man like Oliver. Continue your journey with empire


    Someone that longed for direct confrontation, a sword, a battle. Amusing though it was, he decided to kick the ho''s nest a little, if only for information, to let him know where he was.


    "We''ll¡­ We''ll have to tell Gargon," Gras said finally. "And then we''lle and find you, ser¡­ But who should we ask for, when wee looking for you?"


    "Oliver Patrick," he said, wearing his same mischievous smile. He turned his look to the boy, with his mispositioned sses. "And what is your name, boy?"


    It seemed to take the boy a moment before he even realized that he had been addressed. "S-storm! Storm Gotman, ser!" The boy said, standing up straight, and actually saluting.


    The gesture startled Oliver so much, that his smile faded. Scenes of battle flickered through his mind. An army, a sword, armour¡­ He needed to lead, he needed to fight, he needed¡ª


    "Ah, sorry¡­ ser," Storm said, blushing uncontrobly as he realized what he''d done. Military parents ¨C obviously, Oliver realized, snapping out of his daze.

 Chapter 416 Where Danger Lies - Part 4

    "Well, Storm, if you continue to struggle with this lot ¨C winning their respect, and the like ¨C thene and find me. I might have another use for you, if you''re looking for coin," Oliver said, nodding at him.


    The boy seemed shocked, ttened, and uncontrobly afraid all at the same time. He gave Oliver the best nod he could, not trusting himself to speak. Oliver grinned back, and then stretched his shoulders, returning his hand to the hilt of his sword, he walked on.


    The yellow-shirted boys parted as he left.


    Oliver was reminded, once again, just what power the noble title bore. The power that came with a good set of clothes, the power that came with wealth, they were all mighty things. Augmented with his power on the battlefield, this academy, it seemed like a ypen. It seemed incrediblyfortable.


    Perhaps it was a mistake to provoke Gargon, but Oliver found himself not particrly caring. He hardly knew anyone in that ce. If it was his destiny to be outnumbered, without a single friendly face, he at least wanted to know that they were enemies.


    He would rather fight a band of a thousand people that he knew were his enemies for a certain ¨C so that his sword could find them without hesitation ¨C than a crowd of five hundred that he was uncertain of.


    With such thoughts on his mind, he made his way to the swords ss.


    ¡­


    ¡­


    "BASIC! IT''S ALL BASIC! WE MOVE, WE STRIKE, WE CUT! EVERY STRIKE, EVEN ON AN ARMOURED OPPONENT MUST BE DELIVERED WITH THE INTENT TO KILL! I TEACH THE SERVING CLASS TO STRIKE OUR ENEMIES, I TEACH THE NOBILITY TO FINISH THEM," the professor shouted. It was rather unnecessary to shout, when they were all lined up, just in front of him, but shout he did.


    They were within the grounds of the Blue Castle, on one of its many fields. The grass and vegetation had been cut away, and reced with ayer of soft white sand. Not deep enough so that a man would sink as he stepped on it, but deep enough to at least dull the effects of falling.


    His first instructions came with three basic fundamental strikes. A diagonal sh, from shoulder to hip, a thrust, and then a side strike. He had taught them all such things before, for they were in their third year of sses, so Oliver naturally found himself distracted by being taught such elementary things again.


    Of course, he knew the value of the fundamentals. From Dominus, he had learned something far more important than what this man was teaching ¨C not the value of a single strike, but the value of the transition from one strike to the next. The power of flow, of water, of transition. This man taught them power, how to crush, and evolve all their muscles at once.


    His style was fundamentally different to Beam''s and to Dominus''.n/?/vel/b//jn dot c//om


    The man continued to bark ¨C he was a barrel of a man, short, but wide, and dressed in full te armour, with an axe sheathed at his hip. Now that to Oliver seemed to be a contradiction that one wouldn''t hope for from a swordmaster ¨C that his favoured weapon was the axe, yet he taught the sword.


    The man continued to babble on, as Oliver looked around. There were far more students in this ss than any of the others that he had encountered. Two hundred, nearly. That was probably enough to forgive the professor''s insessant shouting. When Oliver had tried to make conversation with the nobleman next to him, he discovered that therge majority of the nobility took this ss.


    It was mandatory for men, though there were still a good handful of women amongst them. There were so many nobles that needed to take the ss, that the students had been divided into two, and the sses separated.


    The professor continued to ramble on and on. Oliver had discovered that his name was Professor Heathw, and he was quite sure that man was shooting him more than a few pointed nces as he spoke. He didn''t know Oliver, of course, not personally, but the man already seemed to dislike him.


    "RIGHT! THERE WE HAVE IT! FUNDAMENTALS! THEY ARE WHAT WILL WIN YOU THIS BATTLE! MAN, WOMAN, CHILD, EVEN DOG," the man said, again Oliver was sure that he was ncing towards him, "WITH THE FUNDAMENTALS, EVEN THE WORST OF YOU CAN BECOME A WEAPON. SPLIT OFF INTO PARTNERS.


    SHOW ME THAT YOU CAN SPAR."


    Oliver stifled a yawn, as he heard everyone getting into position around him. There was a weighted wooden sword in his hand, of the type that ckwell had given him, when he sparred with Lombard.


    Heathw had made a rather big deal about Oliver bringing his steel de with him, at his hip, and had shouted at him furiously for a good five minutes before the lesson had begun. It was not a brilliant way to start, but Oliver was willing to forgive him.


    As was to be expected, all found partners long before Oliver did. He didn''t even bother seeking one out. He figured he''d eye up the dregs, and see just who it was that the nobility seemed to detest even more than him.


    Experience tales at empire


    "Patrick! PATRICK! Stop staring around like a half-wit. Pair with ckhorn ¨C she''s the best woman we''ve got. I trust her to control her strikes on a beginner like yourself," the professor said. His words sounded innocent enough, but from the smug grin on his face, Oliver took it for the insult it was.


    As Professor Volguard had said, not everyone believed the rumours of Oliver''s sess in battle.


    He motioned to the girl at his side. Oliver looked at hernguidly. ckthorn. It was a good name for her. She had shining ck hair, and a piercing gaze, with a stern expression, and an athletic figure. Her sparring sword was thinner than his.


    A rapier, he realized. That was what they tended to train the women on.

 Chapter 417 Where Danger Lies - Part 5

    At the professor''s instruction, she stepped up across from Oliver, taking her position a few strides away from him, her hands on her sword. Around them, the sparring had already begun.


    Wood cked against wood in furious and irregr rhythms, and there was the asional grunt mixed in with it, as a strike slipped past a man''s guard, and the sword pped into the padded jerkins that they''d been forced to wear.


    Of course, Oliver was forced to wear the same thing. He''d taken off his jacket, and left it leaning against the wall with his shirt. He was too fond of it. It was such a fine piece of clothing, he still hadn''t gotten over how good it felt. Even the silken shirt that he wore underneath, he didn''t particrly want to sweat in it.


    But now that he''d found out there were stores on campus ¨C clothing stores, at that ¨C perhaps it wasn''t so big an issue. Oliver had already made a mental note that they would be worth checking out, if only for the sake of having more information on his surroundings.


    The woman across from him sprang suddenly, without warning. She was quiet on her feet, and quiet with her mouth ¨C she hadn''t yet spoken a word to him. The professor watched ¨C having walked a distance away ¨C and shouted out amand "PAY ATTENTION, PATRICK! DON''T LET YOUR OPPONENT CATCH YOU OFF GUARD!"


    From another, it might have been tutge, but this man, Oliver was certain, simply had a grudge.n/o/vel/b//in dot c//om


    Regardless, no matter how fast the woman was, Oliver easily turned her strike aside, without the need to particrly exert himself. He was surprised by the strength behind it, for a woman.


    Her face betrayed the slightest hint of surprise, as she saw her unannounced sneak attack get so easily dealt with. Oliver couldn''t help but smile. A beautiful woman, for a certainty. He had to contain augh. Never in his life had things been sofortable that he could truly acknowledge the beauty of a woman, and merely enjoy the satisfaction of seeing something special.


    Now, with all these riches, all this power, all this opportunity, and only a void in his soul and the pain in his head to contend with, life was far toofortable. Enough to make him itch.


    ckthorn continued her attack. Her strikes were rapid. She used the rapier for its intended purpose, and unleashed a flurry of thrusts on him, with the asional sh mixed in to make him guess. He parried all her strikes carelessly. He was of the Second Boundary, after all, the gap between him ¨C and likely every other student on campus ¨C was unbelievably vast.


    ''The best female student?'' Oliver thought to himself with a smile. ''She''s good, I suppose¡­'' but even in thinking that, he could not helpparing her to N. This here was a refined noblewoman. Her attire was perfectly attended, her blue blouse neatly tucked, her ck skirt flowing out behind her, traces of makeup upon her skin. N was a different sort, borne of the wild, like a tigress.


    Even with all the ckthorn''s training, Oliver was sure that N''s bow outweighed the ckthorn''s sword by a ridiculous degree.


    ''The best they''ve got¡­'' he said again to himself, tutting. Anger was never far from the surface. He allowed his exchange with the ckthorn to extend into the minutes. He could have ended it all in one sweep. Is this what a noble education was? These beastscked ferocity.


    The ws he''d seen on the peasants that he''d fought with were far more impressive. They''d have done more with such training.


    "Fight me!" The girl said, her mask cracking, as annoyance radiated through.


    "Hah! The doll talks, does she? But not enough to introduce yourself? You nobles have bad manners," Oliver said back, merely continuing to parry her strikes, hardly shifting his feet. She darted all around him, like an eel.


    The girl went quiet again. ''Not fond of talking, this one,'' Oliver noted. He simply couldn''t help riling them up. This girl, Gargon, the prodding required to infuriate them, it was so dreadfully minimal, he couldn''t help but smile at the thought.


    But then with a start, as though it had a mind of its own, his sword suddenly struck out, mming with a thrust into the girl''s stomach. Light, or so Oliver thought, but he saw the pain in her eyes. Her movements dulled, she stepped back, struggling to stay upright.


    Guilt came with that. He''d intentionally held back, and yet¡­ She didn''t look offended. She looked angry, infuriated that she''d lost. She covered up her pain, and came charging at him again.


    Suddenly, Oliver realized that this is what he must have looked like, in the eyes of Dominus. Along such a line of thought, his own actions ovepped with his master sopletely, that the idea of it almost distracted him enough frombat to let ckthorn get a hit in.


    The mischievous thing that he''d pulled on Gargon ¨C that was exactly the sort of thing that Dominus would have done, even as he preached about the need for allies.


    Again, Oliver parried, and this time, he merely tapped her with his sword, enough to indicate the point, but not enough to wound. She nced down at his de, surprised by the speed of it. But Oliver was surprised at himself. So many different roles that he was forced to y, he was forgetting just who he was.


    He felt the gaze of Heathw from a distance, and a shout rang out towards him a momentter.


    "PATRICK! THIS IS SPARRING! BEHAVE LIKE A BRUTE AND ''LL PUT YOU WITH SOMEONE THAT WON''T STAND FOR IT!" Heathw shouted. Oliver found it amusing how it was now that the man shouted ¨C when he''d all but tapped the girl.


    The girl nced in the direction of the professor, her eyes narrowed, and a faint blush of shame arose to her cheeks. It faded quickly though, as she returned to her anger, and rushed him in a new harry, releasing three rapid thrusts towards his stomach, doing her very best to slip past his guard.

 Chapter 418 Where Danger Lies - Part 6

    And she truly wasn''t bad. He''d put her beneath N earlier, but it wasn''t like she was weak. She was likely still trapped in the First Boundary, as all the other students were. He felt no aura from her, no hint of real threat. But her techniques were the real thing, something that she''d put time into, something that she''d practised again and again.


    It was just¡­ Lacking in Oliver''s eyes. Again he swept her sword out of the way, and again he tapped her in retaliation, not needing to put any speed nor power behind his strikes. He guided her movements with his own, making her overextend, and expose herself, so thatnding the killing strike was something that even a child could aplish.


    It was not his superior abilities that kept him so easily able to deal with her ¨C it was not his strength, nor the speed that came with the Second Boundary. It was merely that sense for the flow ofbat that he''d learned to build amidst his many battles.


    That was what her swordsmanship was missing. Her swordsmanship reeked of a good upbringing, of uniformity, of doing what was told of her, and doing it to perfection.


    But what that created was this ¨C boundless potential, but without the creativity to ovee a uniform problem.


    "There''s a lot of venom in that de of yours," Oliver noted, as he continued to step mildly out of the way. He was not moving quickly ¨C he didn''t need to. It was the minor adjustments that kept him inplete control. "Maybe you''dnd a strike if you gave yourself the room to."


    He could see her eyebrows clench as she heard what he said, but it only seemed to make her more irritated. Another attack she tried, with the same fury as the first, even faster than before, pping away.


    "Is that your idea of swordsmanship?" Oliver asked. He wasn''t even doing it particrly out of malice. He was genuinely curious. "Do you think it''s merely a contest of speed, who''s faster, who has the crisper strikes? Do you not see why I can back you into a corner?"


    He tapped with one hand on her shoulder, and then his sword quickly moved to tap her in the gut. This time he had to put some speed into it, as he demonstrated it to her. He spoke as he''d said such things before, but in truth, it was something that Oliver himself had only just managed to find the words to describe.


    "The killing blow starts with a double attack, when two ces are undefended simultaneously, I can guide you towards the executing strike," Oliver said. And then he did. She''d buckled to defend her stomach, because she was forced to, leaving that same exposed shoulder even more exposed.


    He threatened it, and by now, even if he was the slowest swordsman on the, ckthorn''s exposed neck was unmissable, and her sword was too far down to defend it. He levelled the de at her neck, pointedly.


    ''Hm¡­'' he thought to himself, as he held it there. ''That sounds more right than I had intended it to¡­ For each killing sequence to be borne out of two threats, guiding the opponent towards that, it certainly makes sense ¨C that''s when things begin to unravel.''


    He thought back to his own battles as he considered that. It was a rare opportunity when he was able to express the results of his swordsmanship consciously. The realization of a double attack struck him as meaningful, and he fell to wondering just how he might use that to improve his swordsmanship in future.


    He was so distracted by the idea, that he did not hear Heathw call out for the changing of pairs until the other students were already beginning to move.


    Still, his sword rested on ckthorn''s neck, as she stood frozen, like a deer that knew its fate was sealed. Slowly, she regathered herself, and forced his de away.N?v(el)B\\jnn


    "Lasha," she said quietly.


    "What?" Oliver asked.


    "Lasha ckthorn," she repeated, her face shing with irritation. "And now I have introduced myself." With that, and an abrupt turn on her heel, she walked away.


    Oliver watched her go for a moment, before walking measured towards the professor.


    Healthw noted his approach with obvious irritation. "What?" He asked, with undisguised malice.


    "I was hoping that you might provide my next opponent, since you were offering a brute," Oliver said, a grin rising to his lips as he said it.


    A grin might have been the wrong thing, for the bulging vein on Heathw''s forehead quickly throbbed a threat, as the man called out a direction with gritted teeth. "Bournemouth. You''re up."


    Oliver reflected on just how much easier it was to identally insult people when he feigned the noble''s voice. As soon as he affected their mannerisms, and their coy ways of dering themselves, it always seemed like a missed opportunity not to get an insult in. It was as though every time he spoke in their tones, he was making a joke, and something seemed wrong if there wasn''t a thorn in it.


    This time the thorn came in the form of a man that was clearly not a student. Oliver wasn''t even sure if he was a knight.


    Dressed in full armour, and with a bristling ck beard, and a dull set of eyes, Bournemouth came striding over, a greatsword strapped to his back.


    "Ser?" Bournemouth asked. It was a question, but with his dull tone, it didn''t sound like one. The man was easily as dumb as a box of rocks, Oliver reckoned.


    "You''ll be sparring Patrick," Heathw exined impatiently. "I said I would find a brute for him, and here you are."


    "Fight?" Bournemouth said with a frown. "Only got¡­ This?" He had his mace hanging off his belt, a cruel-looking thing. It would leave an armoured man wishing he were faster.


    "No matter, the boy wanted a brute, he''ll have a brute. Don''t kill him, though," Heathw said, warning the man quietly for thest part.

 Chapter 419 Where Danger Lies - Part 7

    Oliver nced around. There were a few other instructors wandering through the sparring students, offering advice here and there. But they served Heathw ¨C he was the one in charge here, even with the other members of staff standing around, ensuring that no one got injured.


    "¡­You''re not going to try and convince me that he''s a student, are you?" Oliver asked, pointing at Bournemouth. The man was as big as Judas, but much wider, as much of a barrel as Heathw himself was. With that beard on his chin, and his weathered skin, he was quite clearly a mante into his adulthood.


    "Why would I need to convince you of that, boy?" Heathw asked, supremely confident.


    Again, Oliver looked around. It should have been obvious by now what was happening, and yet no one interfered. The students were preupied with their duelling and of the staff members ¨C there must have been nearly 20 of those in total ¨C none of them spared an extended nce in their direction. Either what was happening was normal, or they were simply turning a blind eye to it.


    He merely shrugged. He was no stranger to thugs. If Heathw had decided he had a dislike of him, then that was merely what it was. At least he was being pointed about his hostility, sending a man to face him in the open. He knew of a particr merchant that would have gone about things quite differently. Explore stories on empire


    "Do I get a proper weapon then, or am I just stuck with this sword?" Oliver asked.


    Heathw''s grin widened, as though he''d juste up with an idea. It was a thoroughly disconcerting grin, the grin of a man that knew he was being cruel, and delighted in it. "Why, isn''t that a good idea? Since you''re so sure of your swordsmanship, you shouldn''t need a de. In fact, I do recall your father making a boast like that, several times in the past.


    I think it went something like ''the Heathw soldiery are socking, I could beat them half drunk, with a stick,cking both my legs. You would stand by his boast, wouldn''t you?"


    Oliver had to fight the smile off his lips. Heathw was quite sure he was being intimidating. He stood over Oliver, as he hissed his confession, thinking that it was the appropriate time to air such dirtyundry, but when the fear did note as he''d hoped, he merely made himself look petty.


    ''So that''s what this is about,'' Oliver thought to himself. He was an old acquaintance of Dominus''. ''Your name certainlyes with a fair bit of grime, doesn''t it, master?'' Oliver murmured to himself.


    But his head was aching, and the void in his chest demanded simple problems. He knew he wasn''t moving optimally. He knew he should have been moving to find allies, rather than stir up old hostilities, but the flow felt against him. It pushed him towards irritating them further. He could hardly help himself.


    "Ah, if this is a Heathw man, then I''m sure it won''t be a problem, thanks for letting me know," Oliver said with an agreeable nod, before hopping back on the same, his wooden training sword by his side, waiting for Bournemouth''s approach.


    Heathw pointed a seething finger at Oliver, and pped Bournemouth hard on the shoulder to send him off.


    "Do not embarrass me, Bournemouth," Heathw hissed. "I''ll halve your pay if you make a mistake."


    "Pay¡­ half¡­ not good," Bournemouth said drolly, shaking his head, working himself up. He truly was a simple man. But he was also a lumbering behemoth, ted fully in armour, standing across the sand just three short strides away from Oliver, a cruel mace at his side, whilst Oliver only had a wooden sword to work with.


    A challenge. Oliver''s heart recognized it for what it was. He excited in it. That void that he''d found in him ever since his waking those two weeks ago, that emptiness, thatck of something, it demanded refinement.


    He found his fingers twitching, as his old habits took over, and he focused entirely on the foe that was in front of him, unaware of the students that were shooting stealthy nces his way as he readied himself.


    Sword in hand, heart pounding¡­


    "BEGIN! THE ROUND IS ALMOST OVER! HURRY IT UP, BOURNEMOUTH! MOVE!" Heathw shouted out a string of orders, as though the durd that he''d hired needed all those different ways of telling him to move so that he actually might go forward.


    Beneath the man''s helmeted head, Oliver saw the first hint of light in his eyes. His pudgy face curled up in a fool''s smile, filled with malice, as though he''d just been given a crab whose legs he was allowed to rip off.


    Finally, one of the other instructors seemed to notice what was going on.


    "Professor Heathw! What''s the meaning of this?" The man shouted out in a panic. "You can''t be setting armed soldiers against students! They''re children!"


    Heathw red at the man as he approached. "Don''t get in my way, Verdant. Besides¡­ It''s already started. Are you going to be the one to stop him?"


    Bournemouth charged angrily across the sand, his sheer primitive malice wasparable to that of a hobgoblin.


    Oliver''s breath hissed in through his teeth, as golden flecks sparkled in his eyes. He felt a simr malice curling within him. The want to y. It had been two weeks already. Was this what battle had made him?


    It didn''t matter, he lunged forward, a blur.n/?/vel/b//in dot c//om


    The students that had been watching before didn''t even bother to keep up the pretence of disinterest now that the battle had begun. Many found themselves watching with frightened eyes. This was the first time many of them had seen true bloodlust, a man moving to kill. And it seemed obvious to them that was Bournemouth''s intention. The man didn''t have the intellect for half measures.


    He brought his mace down, like a giant, angry toddler with a rattle. Oliver''s head was lowered,mitted to his strike, the mace lined up perfectly with it, ready to dash out his brains.

 Chapter 420 Where Danger Lies - Part 8

    But in a moment, he was gone.


    ckthorn watched ¨C she watched closely, more closely than the rest, and she could not see how he''d done it.


    That irritating boy, with that confident smile sitting on his lips, all throughout the time they sparred.


    And yet the man was a liar. She could see that. No man would smile with that sort of pain in his eyes. The way he fought now, it proved it. Trickery - a trickery that betrayed even the onlookers. He brought the lumbering beast that was Bournemouth in close, offering him his head, lowered and ready, as if on a tter¡­


    Then in the next moment, he was gone. ckthorn looked, but she couldn''t see. She couldn''t understand. She didn''t have the ability to. More than anything, that frustrated her. She couldn''t see how she could get stronger.


    She''d practised harder than anyone and yet¡ª


    CRASH!


    A strike from a wooden de, weighted though it was, brought forth with the fury of a man that had climbed out of the pits of hell.


    Bournemouth''s armour deformed, the breastte cave on itself. An impossible feat. Impossible. ckthorn ¨C quiet, expressionless, Lasha ckthorn felt her jaw hang open, in surprise, as though she were just another girl, so easily impressed.


    BANG!


    Bournemouth had tottered on his feet after the first strike hadnded, his anger had saved him, his simple, childish anger. He''d gone for another sweeping strike with his mace ¨C it was undignified, and primitive, but that didn''t matter for a man his size. ckthorn had learned that the hard way.


    She knew that against a man''s strength, she had to be much more than she was¡­ and yet Bournemouth was far more than most men.


    On that very same man, Oliver''s swordnded again. He felt a fury in him. An unhinged sort of fury, dangerous, biting, one that tore at his soul. He did not even feel such anger on the battlefield against Francis. This was a beast that was not him. It ate him apart from the inside, and it so easily destroyed that which was in front of him.


    A weighted sword of wood mmed into Bournemouth''s chest te for a third time, yielding another massive dent. Had Oliver''s anger been lesser, he might have swept his legs. He might have gone for the unprotected joints at the elbows, and at the knees. But as he was now, he merely crushed that which was in front of him. He had might, the might to blow it all away, and so he used it recklessly.


    He struck again, and this time blood came from Bournemouth''s mouth. Finally, the force of the strikes had made it past the man''s padded shirt, past the crumpling of his armour, and past thatyer of fat. It had struck something more important, but still, Oliver did not let up, even as he saw the man''s simple expression start to transform, from one of simple anger, to one of fear.


    Being the durd that he was, kept more as an oddity than as a person, the man had likely never experienced a true losing fight. Not from one other than his masters, who chose who to set him against.


    But the boy in front of him was angered so. That reckless rage, that abundance of power, those golden eyes that saw straight through him¡­


    Bournemouth started to turn. Not for another strike, not to lend his mace more weight, but to flee.


    Oliver noticed the gesture in distaste. That was weakness. Weakness from a man that was meant to be a test. Oliver''s sword crept out again, and he hit the man''s raised leg, hard, sending him off bnce, crashing in a pool of dust on the floor.


    With a kick of his boot, Oliver took the helmet from his head, sending it crashing a distance away, and then he brought his sword at the man''s neck.


    ''Another, another, another¡­'' his mind murmured to itself, falling into the rhythm of battle. ''There are others¡­ so many. Faster! Deal with it! We''ll be surrounded!''n/o/vel/b//in dot c//om


    "Halt! HALT! LEAVE HIM BOY!" Heathw roared, recovering his senses, the first man to speak in a crowd of two hundred, that had all turned to watch, their duals forgotten, to see Oliver pound Bournemouth into a messy pulp with a mere training sword.


    Oliver looked off to the side, regaining his senses, somewhat, enough to see Bournemouth quiver. Enough to see the blood about his face, and the fear.


    "If you''re so frightened, run," he growled.


    And then the man did. He scrambled to his feet like a beetle, and then began to half-run, half-trip away.


    "BOURNEMOUTH! BOURNEMOUTH! GET BACK HERE YOU USELESS LOUT!" Heathw called after him. But the man merely kept running. The professor rounded on Oliver, grabbing him by his shirt. "WHAT DID YOU DO TO MY SOLDIER, BASTARD?


    WHAT DID YOU DO? YOU''RE LIKE YOUR FATHER, AIN''T YA? YOU TOUCH WITH THE DARKNESS?"


    Oliver''s fist swept about before he knew what he was doing. It crunched into Heathw''s face. His anger hardly abated as the man went down. Oliver''s breathing came rapidly. He felt like a wolf with the scent of blood in his nostrils. Everywhere he looked, he saw a foe.


    He couldn''t calm himself. A rational part of his mind told him to slow, that he was safe, that these were merely the grounds of the school, but another part barked at him that he was weak, that these people were weak, that he needed to find foes, he needed strength, he needed more.


    It ached at him, he clutched at his heart. Something was missing, something important. Some wounds hadn''t healed. Your journey continues on empire


    "BASTARD--! YOU STRUCK A PROFESSOR!" Heathw''s nose was bloody, as heid in a heap on the ground, half-stunned, though his righteous anger still burned just as hotly.


    Oliver reached down, and grasped the man. Heathw''s hand snuck out. There was power in it, and speed. The speed of a man in the Third Boundary¡­ and yet, this man was weaker than Lombard. Oliver pped his hand aside, and red at him, the gold still spinning in his eyes.

 Chapter 421 Where Danger Lies - Part 9

    "You are weak," he said. He did not speak particrly loud, but it was a testament to the silence that reigned on the training grounds that all heard his words. "I came here seeking strength. What can you teach me?" As he spoke to the man, his lucidity began to return, bit by bit.


    It was the de that changed him. The logic of words, the consciousness that they required, it brought him back to himself. He realized, bit by bit, even as the heat of anger faded, that he had within his hands a professor of the Academy. Not just any professor, but the swords professor, who Oliver would have hoped to learn much from.


    The hatred that burned in Heathw''s eyes was blinding. With thest of his anger, Oliver tossed him aside with a sigh.


    He felt blood running down his back. His wounds from battle had opened again. He was not meant to be exerting himself so thoroughly. But that wasn''t the only problem. The fine line of control that he''d walked all these years, it hovered in imbnce. It was a wonder he had notpletely given himself to Ingolsol yet, as Dominus had predicted he would all that time ago.


    Silence once more reigned, as Oliver looked out across the crowd of startled students, most of them echoing the hatred that he''d seen in Heathw''s eyes. A sentiment that Oliver shared.


    ''Not great¡­'' he said to himself, acknowledging the mess that he had caused. When he looked at the students directly, their hatred would dim, and they would look away. He found ckthorn amongst them. She didn''t look away. She didn''t even seem to bear the same hatred. But Oliver thought nothing of that.


    He could not trust his perception any longer.


    He wondered briefly if he would be tossed from the Academy now. He then wondered if that was really a problem. Heathw brought himself back to his feet, and he was screaming. Gods, the man was loud. Oliver looked at him, in the disconnected sort of way thates when everything has gone truly wrong. It was so broken, so ruined, that there was hardly any point in saying it anymore.


    The strength that he''d wanted to find here, the interesting things that he''d sort¡­ There''d been some of that. But now he found, more strongly than ever, he carried Dominus'' distaste for nobility. To scorn of a man of Dominus'' strength, and Dominus'' honour¡­ To him, that spoke much of their character.


    Itpounded with his own distaste for them ¨C a peasant''s distaste, as he imagined those higher than him, behind their castled walls, with their silken hands freed frombour.


    He looked at them, the nobility of his age, with three years of training under their belts. He found himself unimpressed. He looked at the rest of the faculty that had stepped forward to deal with Heathw, and then he looked at Heathw himself, and he found himself, once more, unimpressed.


    These were men and women that were trained to be the leaders, to be the officers, and yet they weren''t any more impressive than the soldiers that he had seen in Lombard''s army. In fact, they were less so, for they knew not of suffering, only of scorn.


    It was the perfect moment to say something, anything, to curse them for their weakness, to challenge them for their hatred, to prove his strength in the same brutish sort of way that Bournemouth had.


    But the anger had gone, and with it, he was left feeling hollow. Nothing would be gained by further ying with the weak. Information ¨C the Academy might have that, but so far, when it came to strength, they were painfullycking.n/?/vel/b//jn dot c//om


    The man called Dominus Patrick had been one in a million. A truly special sort of man. It was only now, faced with such inferior tutge, that he was beginning to realize that.


    Heathw continued to curse, and with the help of several other members of staff, he was on his feet again, pointing angrily at Oliver ¨C but he did not approach. Not anymore. With that sword in his hand, Oliver was easily the most dangerous person on that training square. He knew for that a near certainty, and the realization brought him nothing but disappointment.


    With that thought in his mind, he finally said what he had been thinking, with a bitterness that he had not expected. "How disappointing."


    With that, he let the sword slide from his hand, back onto the sands of the training ground, and he slowly walked away, contemting the effects of his actions.


    ''Bournemouth¡­ I would have gotten away with,'' he thought to himself. ''But punching a professor, I imagine that''s particrly bad.''


    Read thetest on empire


    Though, even as he thought such things, it was the anger he feared. He realized with a start, that things could have been much, much worse, had that anger held him any longer. The thought allowed him to smile, again.


    Even on the brink of despair, that half-smile sat on his lips, thoroughly out of ce, as he pondered just how wrong things had gotten. Even his mind was no longer his own.


    "So be it," he spoke these words aloud. Even control of himself had now been taken from him. A dangerous game to y ¨C and yet he had survived. He''d survived that battle that he had no right to. Even if they threw him out of the Academy, he would seek his strength, by whatever means, and he would grasp it.


    Those words did not bringfort, they merely returned the throbbing homeostasis of pain that had followed him since the battle had ended. The soles of his boots clicked on the stones as he walked.


    "Young Wolf! Wait!" A voice called after him.


    ''Strange,'' Oliver thought to himself. He was sure none would follow. He was sure it would be a waiting game, waiting for the authority to find him. He almost kept walking, but something made him slow, and turn.

 Chapter 422 Where Danger Lies - Part 10

    There ran a young man, robbed like a monk, with a rope holding his brown uniform to his waist. He carried Oliver''s jacket with him, and his sword. Seeing them, Oliver felt a spike of panic. He was even more disoriented than he had realized.n/?/vel/b//jn dot c//om


    "Thank you," he said simply, as the man handed him what was his. Oliver noted the man''s bald head ¨C shaved, he was sure, for the man seemed to radiate youthfulness, despite his serious air. Serious, yet smiling, he was a contradiction.


    "Verdant, Monk of Behomothia," the man introduced himself, extending a hand. A monk, and yet, the ways of nobility streamed off him like a bad smell.


    Oliver looked at the hand for a moment, noting the ring, before taking it.


    "Isn''t Behomothia a sea Goddess?" Oliver asked. "I thought we were quite a distance from the sea."


    "Ah, you''re wondering why, then. Shipwreck ¨C thirty dead, I found myself washed up on the Eastern shores. Was quite a journey back, but with Behomothia''s blessing, I made it," the priest said.


    "Well, you''re rather blunt," Oliver noted.


    The priest shrugged. "She is lesser of the Gods to those that live so central. It is a question I am often asked. I disliked it at first, for it brought back poor memories, but now I find myself grateful for the questions, as they allowed such emotions to be addressed."


    Oliver found himself caught off guard by the man''s honesty. He revealed things that should have been close to his heart, and he did so easily, without flinching, to aplete stranger, within their first few moments of knowing each other.


    "Right¡­ Well, I am Oliver Patrick¡­ Thank you for bringing these," Oliver said with a nod, as he turned to go.


    But the priest merely turned with him, walking alongside him.


    "Where is it you intend to go?" The man asked.


    A sh of understanding hit Oliver. "Ah, is that why you''re here? I suppose they wouldn''t just let someone wander around campus after striking a professor."


    "No," Verdant said firmly, with the same firm and honest tone that he spoke of his past. "I did note for those reasons. I came, because you seemed as though you were more in need of tending than Heathw ¨C he had plenty to tend to him already."


    Oliver raised an eyebrow at that. Had the man seen through him? Was it that obvious to everyone else, just what a tightrope he walked along? He knew that striking the professor had been¡­ questionable¡­ but he at least hoped that it hadn''t left him quite so unhinged.


    Verdant quickly corrected those assumptions. "I mean your back," he said, pointing.


    "Ah," Oliver had trouble looking at the wound over his shoulder. Now that his adrenaline was beginning to fade, he certainly felt it. He would have been surprised to see itpletely torn open again. "I imagine it will slow soon enough."


    "You''ve been taking courses in the medica, have you not?" Verdant asked.


    "Well, I''ve attended one ss. I''m not so sure you can call that a course, yet," Oliver replied, inly, as they continued their walk along the path. It soon gave way to more trees, as they left the castle behind them.


    They spotted several students as they passed. Most of them spared them an odd nce. Even from the front, the blood on Oliver''s shirt was strikingly obvious. Verdant gave them friendly yet stern nods of greeting in reply, as though warning them to mind their own business.


    "You should know, then, that the amount of blood you''re losing is far from healthy. I''m surprised you can walk with such a nonchnt look on your face, Young Wolf," Verdant said, inly. "I will stitch you, if you can walk that far."


    "That''s the second time you''ve called me that," Oliver noted. "And you also know what sses I''ve attended. Forgive me if I''m not so trusting of that, Verdant."


    Enjoy more content from empire


    "Not everyone here is your enemy," Verdant assured him. He looked him in the eye as he said that, his honesty shining through. "Though, from the look in your eyes, you do not seem to mind having so many enemies. It is remarkable that you were able to calm yourself so quickly, after striking a professor as you did."


    Oliver said nothing at that. He certainly didn''t feel particrly calm. He was calmer than he was in those instances of battle, but he was far from as level as he needed to be.


    "Here," Verdant said finally, leading him off the path, along several stepping stones, and towards a pleasant-looking cabin shrouded by trees.


    "You own this?" Oliver asked in surprise. It was a beautiful spot. With the thickness of the trees around it, you''d never guess that it was in the middle of the Academy grounds. The grounds themselves were vast regardless, but this was like getting lost inside a forest.


    Verdant chuckled and shook his head. "You truly know so little of our ways, Young Wolf. You''re an enigma that is difficult to crack. Students are able to build their own buildings, providing that they have the coin for it ¨C but only for business purposes.


    One cannot simply build a house for himself, whether professor, or priest, it all has to serve some sort of purpose in the education of the students. I had a student buy this ce on my behalf."


    He opened the wooden door, and he ushered Oliver inside. The cabin itself wasrge,rger than Oliver would have expected. It wasrger than a typcial house back in Solgrim, enough for a family to stay inside. And the floors were wooden, not just simply left open. Everything was polished to a gleam. Even the side-projects of nobility had the ir of richness to them.


    "And what exactly do you tell the professors, when they ask what business it is that you provide here?" Oliver asked, looking around. It seemed more like a living room than any sort of business.


    There were no counters, or any obvious open supplies ¨C but those could perhaps have been kept in the back room ¨C there was merely a low table, and cushions to go around it, and a firece set into the wall, already stocked up and ready to be lit.

 Chapter 423 Where Danger Lies - Part 11

    "A subtler business," Verdant said, as he checked the teapot by the hearth. It must have been empty, for he soon retrieved a jug of water and began to fill it up. "The young man who runs it offers advice for a small fee, to those that need it."


    "Advice?" Oliver repeated incredulously. "That''s it?"


    "That''s it," Verdant agreed. "He asks for my assistance in that, and in return, I have another quiet ce, away from the confines of the staff, and their games of politics, and away from the other priests and their incessant questions."N?v(el)B\\jnn


    "What a strange ce¡­" Oliver mused. It almost made him angry, but the room was so peaceful that he could hardly summon the emotion. It was unfair just how carefree the nobility were able to live. And these weren''t just children, as though that would excuse such ax lifestyle. From the time a child could walk in a peasant vige, he was helping in some sort of way.


    There would never be any excuse for these kinds of¡­ frivolities.


    It seemed hardly a wonder to him that he hadn''t detected a single youth of note in any of his sses. They were educated, for the most part, far more educated than he, but it was not mere education that Oliver was after. He searched for strength, even if he was doing so blindly.


    He longed for some sort of measurement, someone he mightpare himself to, someone he mightpete with, or someone who might teach him. Readtest chapters at empire


    "Are all the professors as weak as Heathw?" Oliver asked, suddenly, more blunt than he had been in several days. He recalled both Lombard''s and Lord ckwell''s attitudes when discussing the Academy. Both of them had seemed to regard it as a waste of time.


    He''d been optimistic at first, given the nature of his other sses, and howcking he was in them¡­ but swordsmanship had been so underwhelming. It was beyond disappointing.


    Verdant did not answer his question immediately. He sparked a fire amongst the kindling, and watched carefully as it grew into a moderate me. When it was strong enough, he pushed a well-used tripod over the top of it, and then stuck the kettle on top of it. "You had better to that shirt of yours off, I suppose, so that I might see to your back."


    ncing over his shoulder, and towards his back, Oliver could see the redness. The blood had flowed freely, for a time, but now it was already beginning to clot. He doubted that he needed a second set of stitches for it, just a week after he''d gotten thest set out. But Verdant had a quiet sort of intensity to him, something that brooked noints.


    It seemed less of a hassle to do as he was asked to.


    He pulled it off his arms with a sigh, feeling it stick to the back where some of the blood had already dried. He looked at the shirt once he was done, and sighed again. "What a waste," he murmured, knowing how difficult it would be to remove the blood from it.


    "You are unused to such luxuries, mm?" Verdant asked. It was not really a question. There was a look in the man''s pale blue eyes that told Oliver he knew. They were eyes that looked, and really saw. "Very few of our noble students would have much of a reaction to losing but a single shirt."


    "Hm¡­ Then I suppose they''re a wasteful folk," Oliver said. He turned around as Verdant came to look at his back.


    "You speak as though you''re not one of them."


    "I am not."


    "Hm¡­ The Young Wolf shares many qualities with his father, it would seem," Verdant said, his fingers cold on Oliver''s shoulders. "You''ve a harsh set of scars to you," he noted. "The marks of a whip?"


    Oliver went cold for a moment, as he sucked in a breath. Of course¡­ He realized. The marks of his very, even with the marks of battle over the top of them, they would not be easily overwritten. He said nothing, hoping that Verdant would not press the issue any further. To his relief, the priest did not.


    "A spear here, a sword, and there..? An axe? Your body bears the truth of your battle with the Yarmdon, far more than rumour does," Verdant said. His voice seemed calm, but Oliver was sure he could detect excitement in it. He was sure, and yet, he was also sure that it didn''t make sense. "So, young Oliver, your father made it through the Sixth Boundary, did he?"


    "I thought you were not meant to speak of such things to me until I came of age," Oliver said.


    "It is taboo," Verdant agreed. "Amongst those that worship udia, and follow her teachings. There''s a belief in there, an old one, that the Second Boundary must be breached by ident, without the knowledge of its existence, to attain the same sense of enlightenment that the first Blessed individual reached when he struck through it.


    Yet, I am a monk of Behomothia, and even if I wasn''t, I do not think such restraints apply to you, do they?"


    "Say what you mean, priest," Oliver said.


    "You''ve already passed through the Second Boundary, have you not? They say you slew Kursak. As far as we know, he had been blessed by Varsharn, the Yarmdon God of War. The strength of such a blessing is equivalent to our udia''s Second Boundary."


    "Is it?" Oliver asked, his voice level. It was the answer to a question that he had not yet found the time to ask. Dominus had passed before he had the chance. Different Gods ¨C the Yarmdon had blessings of their own sort. It was not only udia.


    "Of course, such blessings are equally as rare amongst their people as they are amongst ours," Verdant continued. With a wet cloth, he had begun to wash the blood away from Oliver''s back. "There''s ignorance in you, Young Wolf, ignorance that does not match your strength. In an effort to dispel that ignorance, and assure you that I mean you only goodwill, I will tell you what I think I know of you."

 Chapter 424 Where Danger Lies - Part 12

    "Go on then," Oliver said, stiffening, his speech inadvertently reverting back to how he would have spoken to Greeves, as a peasant.


    "The stories that spoke of you said Kursak ¨C they were true. The other stories of you ying Jok, after he received a second blessing from Varsharn ¨C putting him through the Third Boundary ¨C are also true, given how easily you bullied Heathw today. And yet¡­ You are still only merely in the Second Boundary yourself. Such things defy convention, does it now?"


    "How so?"


    Your next read awaits at empire


    "Well, a man in the Third Boundary is meant to be stronger than a man in the Second. That stands to the conventional wisdom upheld by udia''s Church."


    "My master. Or rather, my father ¨C he told me that the Boundaries existed merely as limiters to our potential. To break through a Boundary is to open ourselves up to a new area of progress. It does not just make a man strong straight away, but it allows a man to progress with an improved speed for a time, getting even stronger.


    There will be disparities, then, amongst the Boundaries, with those that have spent a long time progressing in a certain Boundary, and those that have only just arrived there," Oliver said, recalling what Dominus had told him.


    "Indeed, that is true," Verdant said, wiping away thest of the blood. "Your father''s understanding of the Gods was more developed than the folk around here, it seems. As expected from the first man to pass through the Sixth Boundary. The disparity amongst the Boundaries reflects the inherent potential in an individual.


    You, Young Wolf, are the only case that I have been able to witness in person, where that disparity is manifest so obviously. Hence my interest in you."


    He set his cloth aside. "I had thought that I might need to restitch these wounds of yours, given the blood, but I think it would be better if I did not. The skin has already lost much of its flexibility with your scar tissue. Here, I think some bandaging is in order ¨C and some rest, if you would allow your body that."


    Oliver gave a vague agreement. The wounds on his back did not worry him. Over time, they would heal, as they always did. They''d long since passed the point where they were dangerous. As long as he kept them free of infection, he would be fine.


    It was his mind he was worried about. Or was it even his mind? Perhaps his soul was a more fitting word for it. Whatever that feeling was, like shards of ss driving into his heart, depriving him of that natural bnce that he''d always felt. It was as though he was straining to uphold the roof of a temple, after all the pirs had been knocked out.


    "Priest," Oliver said. "Should you not be handing me over to your professors? Have I not justmitted a crime in this society of yours?"


    Verdant sighed. "Again, you call it my society, as though you are not a part of it. I''m sure the professors will want to see you at some point, but I do not doubt that Heathw has already run to them with hisints. There will be no time wasted, indulging me with yourpany, if only for a time."


    "Then, what are you after?" Oliver asked, pointedly, his natural suspicion taking over. Everyone ¨C or at least, nearly everyone ¨C that he had encountered showered him with nothing but hostility. He could see no reason for the priest to act any differently.


    "Greatness, Young Wolf, I chase greatness, like a bad smell, I hold my nose and search for greatness on the wind. There are plenty of fires burning here, petty politics, obscuring the air with smoke, but their scents are mere distractions. Behomothia saved me from a cold death, in the dark of her waters.


    With her blessing, my senses are keener, and I believe I know what my purpose is, by her eyes," Verdant said, his voice strong, and self-assured.


    "Some men have the power to unify. Others have the power to destroy. My role is neither. I am neither particrly clever, nor particrly strong ¨C and yet I live, where others near me have died," Verdant said. "I admit ¨C I am a young man at twenty-three, and you might not find it in yourself to trust any of what I might call wisdom, but I have an interest in greatness, Young Wolf.


    I believe that to be my purpose. To guide the greats, like the moon guides the tides of the sea."


    "¡­What is it that you want from me, then?" Oliver asked.


    "The chance to watch what it is you do," Verdant said, cracking a wry smile. "You might find yourself to be in a predicament after your showing today ¨C but it is still the most interesting thing I have found since my return to the Academy as a priest three years ago. None have shined quite as brightly as you."


    "I see¡­" Oliver said, not exactly understanding where Verdant wasing from, but content enough that the man was not dering himself an enemy.


    "Hold this," Verdant said, as he handed him one end of the bandage, and began to wind it around his torso, rebinding the wounds on his back. He cleared his throat, and began to speak again. "You said earlier that you sought strength. You asked me if all the professors here are of Heathw''s level, and in that regard, you might be disappointed.n/o/vel/b//in dot c//om


    Your father was the greatest swordsman the Stormfront has ever seen ¨C who couldpare to that? But, there are still men of note here, men of strength."


    "Generals?" Oliver asked.


    "A handful," Verdant said, a look of understanding in his eye. "Though, they do not teach. Most of them are rather old by now, but still, they hang around these cold stone walls, in the hopes that, like me, they find someone interesting, someone worthy."


    "Do you think they''ll teach me?" Oliver asked, it was hard to keep the excitement out of his voice. He was surprised by the sharpness of Verdant''s answer.


    "No, I do not think so," Verdant said. Oliver looked back over his shoulder, raising an eyebrow at the swift denial. "They seek a leader, Young Wolf, you have not proven yourself to be one yet. Their eyes are more towards the Games ¨C and you have not even begun to gather a Force yet."

 Chapter 425 Where Danger Lies - Part 13

    "I have no idea what either of those things are," Oliver said honestly.


    Verdant sighed at that. "I thought as much. You have been sent here aimlessly, like a leaf drifting in the wind. You will find yourself stagnating at this rate, wasting time. There are lectures to be had, Young Wolf, lectures avable to all the students. You will learn from them, to a point.


    But true progress will be had under the tutge of a master. Few realize that to be the true game that the Academy ys ¨C why else would their very best teachers not be teaching? Just like I, they are searching for worthy apprentices, someone worth their time."


    "The Games are a means of achieving that. They''re held in the summer, between different students within the year. They''repetitions in all sorts of things, duelling, dancing, strength ¨C but there''s an element in there that matters more than the rest, where the eyes of the truly important direct themselves. Towards the Games of War held towards the end.


    Towards the nobles that showed enough promise to gather themselves a Force ¨C usually a recruitment of members of the Serving ss ¨C and these Forcespete against each other, essentially in mockbat."n/?/vel/b//in dot c//om


    "These are armies," Oliver realized. "Howe¡­ Howe no one told me of this?"


    Verdant shrugged. "I can not speak to your ignorance of Academy matters, but by the pin on your chest, and the allegiance it purports to Lord ckwell, I would assume ¨C if his Lordship did not tell you directly ¨C then he withheld the information only to test you."


    Oliver brooded on that, recalling Lord ckwell, and his cheerful straightforwardness. He did not seem to be the type to intentionally withhold information¡­ though there was an air of deviousness to him, a slyness that came when he was quiet, that bespoke of his skill as amander. Then there was Lombard¡­


    "Damn it!" Oliver cursed, in a sh of realization, he hit the table with a fist. It groaned under the impact. "LOMBARD!" He shouted, recalling the strange way the man had acted as he sent him away, as though he was hiding something. This was exactly the sort of deviousness that the Captain would pull. Now that Verdant mentioned it, the dots connected.


    Verdant smiled. "It seems that you see a flicker of truth in my suggestion. Though, I have to say, for you to be able to mention the renowned Captain Lombard so casually¡­ It''s an odd thing."


    "Reknowed?" Oliver repeated with an irritated twist of his lips. "He''s a deviant, that''s what he is. If they knew just how he runs Tolsey and his men ragged. The man''s got ice running through his veins ¨C it can''t be blood. There''s more emotion in a stone."


    "And yet you ce a good deal of trust in him," Verdantmented with an amused smile.


    "I¡­" Oliver thought on it, then sighed. "My father trusted him, and the man has been good to me. If only he wasn''t so irritating."


    "He does not strike me as the type of man to withhold information by sheer forgetfulness," Verdant pressed.


    Again, Oliver agreed. "No¡­ He definitely wouldn''t be."


    "So you agree with my assessment that there is likely a test hidden within it? A deeper meaning?" Verdant continued.


    "It seems likely," Oliver said, though he was loath to admit it, on ount of how irritating it was. It felt much like a battlefield now. He recalled his lecture in strategy just the other day, when he''d pointed out the need for information, after having suffered from ack of it when was attempting to solve the mysteries that gued Solgrim.


    Here again, it was a simr situation, he''de in andcked the information he needed. If it wasn''t for Verdant, he would have wasted more time.


    He sucked in a breath, feeling better than he had before. The aching pain that gued his head had not faded, but in its ce, he felt more of a certainty. This was a problem he could solve now.


    Rather than wandering around the campus, from lecture to lecture, hoping for ''something'', he now had a sense of direction, something that he could grab, and attempt to wrestle to the ground in the name of greater strength.


    "You want to advise me then, Verdant?" Oliver asked.


    "If you will permit me to, it would be my honour," Verdant said, with a dip of his head.


    "You''ve brought my attention to my situation. You''ve given me information that I was otherwisecking. You clearly know more about this Academy than I do ¨C considering I know nothing, that isn''t particrly hard ¨C so I ask you: what do I do?" He said.


    "When the studentse to Peter and I, asking for advice, we usually make a point not to give them an answer directly, but to help them arrive at the answer themselves," Verdant said. "So in that respect, I ask you, young Oliver Patrick, what is it that you want?"


    "I wish to break through to the Third Boundary before I leave the walls of this Academy. But more than that, I want to learn what it means to lead. I want to learn from these Generals.


    When I leave to war under ckwell, I want to be confident that I canmand an army of three hundred, and do it well, with all the knowledge of strategy that I need to do it," Oliver said, confident now, and certain. "Ah¡­ But then I am likely already going to get expelled over this, aren''t I?"


    "I would not worry about that," Verdant said. "They will not expel you for your first offence. Though it is not for particrly good reasons, you''re something of a celebrity. The people that matter have their eyes on you. I''d hope that there are enough good men still left among them that they see the value of your strength, rather than the weaknesses of your character."


    "And so I say, if those are your goals, if you wish to learn what it means to be a General, then your best course of action is to impress one, and to get his tutge. The Games will be your best bet for that. You have four and a half months until then. It sounds like a long time, but to impress them, you''d need to win.


    For that, you''ll need a well-trained Force, and you''ll need a hundred strong soldiers in it ¨C the maximum squad capacity. Even then, it likely won''t be enough. The stronger noble households, like Gargon, they''ve been training their Forces since the first year ¨C and they''ve made sure to get the pick of the best Serving ss men for them."

 Chapter 426 Retribution - Part 1

    "Gargon again?" Oliver said with a frown. "That spindly bastard''s name is everywhere."


    Verdant winced at that. "That is something else that you will need to fix¡­ You cannot continue to have the whole student body hating you. There cannot be a repeat of today''s events with Heathw. Not only is it liable to get you kicked out of the Academy, but you''ll also stain Lord ckwell''s name. He''s already under enough pressure from the King after taking you in as he has.


    Today''s events will soon be news to all, and ckwell will suffer for it. Take note, Young Wolf, these Academy walls may seem solid, and closed, but the eyes of the whole country still pierce it.


    News of Dominus Patrick''s son is of interest to all, even if they do not believe his ascension to the Sixth Boundary, he was still ¨C in their eyes ¨C the second strongest swordsman the Stormfront has ever seen. Act in ordance with that knowledge."


    "You''ve opened my eyes, priest Verdant," Oliver said with a nod of appreciation, holding out his hand. "It would be good to have your advice, should I need it."


    Verdant shook his hand strongly, a small smile on his lips. "If you are who I think you are, then the honour is all mine."


    An hour after his meeting with Verdant, Oliver was stood ¨C freshly bandaged, and with a clean shirt on from his room ¨C in a hall that was much toorge for its purpose.


    He''d had to walk down it, passing each pir, as they bore torches of flickering light, with each step echoing ufortably in the otherwise silent space, only to reach a tform of a mere five chairs.


    These might have been chairs of the grandest sought ¨C more like thrones than chairs, really. Each was made of a different metal than thest. He saw a silver throne, an iron one, a bronze one, a stone one and in the middle of all of them, arger gold throne.


    He stood at the bottom of those steps, looking up. He felt a sh of recognition, as though he''d been in such a situation before. As though he was recalling the memories of a dream ¨C an important dream, that he really ought to have kept with him. Only, he was sure the stairs had stretched out longer then. Here, there were only ten stone stairs up to the thrones.


    "Oliver Patrick," the man on the golden throne said, his voice as deep and powerful as the waves of a sea near storming. He had a short, neatly cropped white beard, and a thickly built powerful figure, with hisrge hands gripping the arms of his throne tightly. From the frown on his face, it was not difficult to guess that he was angry. "You stand before Academy General Marcus Tevar.


    I assume that you have no questions regarding your calling here?"


    "No ser," Oliver said, with a light bow of his head. He had no idea how to address the man who called himself Academy General, but he noted from the armour that the man wore, and the sword at his hip, that the title wasn''t just for show. And so he did the best he could, with what he knew, intending to at least infuse his movements with an appropriate level of respect.


    "I just wonder, are the other four gentlemen here also Generals?"


    He looked down the line. He swore one man wearing a schrly robe, another with boiled leather armour, lighter than the Academy General''s steel te, another wearing the thrill clothing of nobility that he had be ustomed to, and the final man wearing some variation of all three.


    He was more like a dressed-down version of normal nobility, he wore a loose-fitting shirt, and sat slouched in his chair with an easy ¨C and possibly even amused ¨C smile. Of all of them, that man seemed the oddest.


    But to the leaders of the Academy, it was Oliver who they found strange. The General frowned at Oliver''s question, as though to discern whether or not he was being impudent. But it was out of genuine curiosity that Oliver asked ¨C he wanted to know, were these the men that he had to impress, so that they might teach him?


    Explore more adventures at empire


    "You will address me as General Tevar on Academy grounds, Oliver Patrick. Your father had a reputation for being loose with regtions. I do not expect the same from you," General Tavar said firmly, his looks thunderous. He was arge man, but the presence that rolled off him was evenrger.n/?/vel/b//jn dot c//om


    He was most assuredly a man of the Fourth Boundary, at least, but his presence bespoke of something far beyond that. Oliver thought it be the blessings ofmand that ckwell had spoken of, back at Lombard''s mansion.


    "My apologies, General Tevar," Oliver said quickly, with another bow of his head. He''d made sure not to wear his sword to the meeting, after Verdant had rather urgently advised him to leave it behind, stating that it would only bring further offence.


    "To answer your question, I am the only General of military rank that oversees these proceedings. My associates here might not bear the same title, but you are to treat them with simr respect, for they are the Generals of their fields. Within the walls of the Academy, you will address them as Minister.


    We have the Minister of des, the Minister of Coin, the Minister of Information and the Minister of Logic. Now, onward with the proceedings¡ª"


    "Oh,e on Marcus. At least point out to the boy which is which. He clearly doesn''t have the first clue who we are," the man with the more casual appearance said. He was the most youthful out of all the ministers, and he sat in the seat of Stone.


    "The boy should have such knowledge long in advance of his entry into the Academy," a stern old man said in reply. Unlike General Tevar, this man looked his age. His beard was long and grey, and his hair was of the same shade and length, only much thinner. He seemed frail within his schrly robes. "Our purpose here is to discipline him, not correct his ignorance."

 Chapter 427 Retribution - Part 2

    "Oh? Are we not meant to be professors? No, I mean, beneath these pretentious titles of ministers, are we not just professors of a higher rank? And yet you insist it is not our job to correct the boy''s ignorance? There seems a floor in that argument, oh dear minister. Would you point it out for me?" The youthful man said, his wit quick, as he lounged atop his seat of stone.


    The old man opened his mouth to hasten a reply, but General Tevar cut them both off.


    "Silence! Both of you! I will not have you march down the same beaten path with every meeting that we convene!" There was anger in the General''s tone, but more than anything, whaty there was exasperation.


    "A game then, Marcus, what do you say? Have the boy guess who we are. He clearly doesn''t know, and old Lazarus there bemoans him his ignorance, but is a pupil''s worth not his ability to learn, his ability to notice? Well, he hasn''t been told directly, so let him guess.


    Let us see whether the pup of old Dominus has more to him than his father''s sword," the man said, his arguments were convincing, and from the way the others shifted in his seat as he spoke, Oliver guessed that he was ustomed to getting his way.


    General Tevar sighed, a trace of his earlier strength leaving him, tiredness recing it.


    "If you must have your games, Hod, then have them quickly, before your words weary me more quickly than these years do," Tevar said, his voice dripping with reluctance.


    The minister that Tevar had called Hod grinned at that. It seemed an unusually childish expression on his face. What followed that was even more childish, as Hod swung his legs up onto the arm of his chair, giving up all pretence, and lounging as properly as if this were his own chamber. "Go on then boy, impress us, you heard the man. Put the pieces together. It can''t be that hard, can it?"


    "Well, if you insist¡­ I suppose I''dbel you the Minister of Logic," Oliver said.


    Hod''s eyebrows raised at that, and a silence stretched on for long enough that Oliver assumed him must have been wrong, but the man''s face broke out into a quick grin, and he pped. "Ahh, perhaps we''re more transparent than I thought we were. Ah, well, if you''ve guessed me that easily, the game is already over. There''s no point seeing it through.


    Go on then, Marcus, continue with your little courtroom."


    "No, it was you who started the game, see it through to the end," Tevar said firmly. Oliver thought that such a line likely revealed more about the General''s imcable character than anything else could have. He made note of the General''s stubbornness ¨C the man was, after all, one of the few who could teach him what he wished to learn.


    "Then, I think, the man you were arguing with is likely the Minister of Information," Oliver said.


    "Haha! It''s too easy, I told you! Of course, the Minister of Logic and Information wouldn''t get on ¨C I keep telling you that it''s only natural. Even a boy can see it!" Hod eximed, but this time he didn''t try to get Oliver to stop before he had finished. Discover hidden content at empire


    "I would name the man on the Silver throne the Minister of Coin," Oliver said, nodding towards the man decked out in the frilly finery of nobility. "And then I''d assume the man in the boiled leather to be the Minister of des."


    "I wonder you away, oh Minister of des?" Hod said sarcastically. The minister of des turned to look at him, his eyes narrowed menacingly, his boiled leather armour creaking as he moved. "Yes, yes, re at me all you will Gavlin. I might fear your de, but I do not fear your nces."


    "Are we quite done with this farce?" The Minister of Coin sniffed, crossing his legs. His blonde hair was golden against the wrinkles of his middle-aged face. The way he looked at Oliver was beginning to grow familiar: a look of contempt. The man did not like him.


    General Tevar cleared his throat, and spoke. "Well, Patrick, you find yourself more educated than you did when you stepped within the Halls of Judgement. Now, we finally move on to the heart of the matter. You are guilty of striking Professor Heathw, are you not?"


    "Some weapons master he turns out to be when he gets tossed around by his own students," Hod said, stifling a yawn. "If you ask me, I think it''s about time to get rid of the bore. He''s loud, and irritating. If he''s weak on top of that, then what use is he to the staff?"


    "HOD!" General Tevar thundered, a vein bulging on his forehead. "That''s quite enough! We''ve tolerated your outbursts out of respect for your position. You will now do us the courtesy of holding your tongue."


    The Minister of Logic shrivelled back into his chair like a scolded child, and made a show of fastening his lips together, a show that Gavlin almost smiled at, whilst the other two responded with looks of exasperation.


    "Well, boy, do you dispute these charges?" General Tevar asked.


    "I do not," Oliver said. There were over two hundred witnesses. It would be foolish to im otherwise.


    "Are you aware that the sentencing for striking a professor is immediate expulsion?" General Tevar asked gravely.N?v(el)B\\jnn


    "He''s been here two days, and didn''t even know who we are. How do you expect him to know that?" Hod pointed out. Oliver half expected the General to round on him, after he''d warned the man against interrupting, but Tevar merely grunted in acknowledgement.


    "He makes a valid point. You almost certainly were not aware of these facts," Tevar noted.


    "And yet, ignorance is no excuse," the Minister of Information chimed in. "If a child murdered his mother, we would not allow the child to escape sentencing, merely because of ignorance."

 Chapter 428 Retribution - Part 3

    "How on earth are you teaching here then?" Hod asked. "I would have thought you''d have been hung by now, as per thews of the king."


    The Minister of Information clenched his jaw so hard that Oliver thought he might growl. The old man sucked in his neck like some odd sort of bird, ready to swoop down on Hod, who still sat with his legs dangled over the arm of his chair, as he incited violence from all of his peers.


    "Both my Ministers make a valid point," Tevar noted. "What of the other two?"


    The Minister of Coin sniffed in distaste. "I find it vulgar that we would allow something so uncultured within these walls. Patrick has raised his boy to be as feral as he. I would not see the Academy turned to the same state of unrest as in the days of him. If the boy cannot control his temper, then he will never be of use to our society, regardless of skill."


    Tevar nodded. Oliver hoped it was in mere acknowledgement, rather than agreement. "And you Gavlin, what do you say?"


    Gavlin leaned back on his iron throne, as he cracked his neck, and threaded his hairy hands together. The man''s beard was as coal ck as his hair. Hod might not have been intimidated by him, but anyone else likely would be. The man had a distinctly menacing aura to him.


    "Boundary?" He asked Oliver. He made it clear that it was a question.


    "Taboo!" The Minister of Information cried. The Minister of Coin was soon voicing his agreement.


    "Indeed ¨C taboo. These kinds of vulgarities that the boy brings in his wake, they should not be entertained, Tevar."


    "The boy did not ask the question," Tevar pointed out ¨C with such low-hanging fruit, he did not need Hod to do that for him. "Gavlin did."


    "And if young Patrick here has already exceeded the Second Boundary, then what use is there in the taboo?" Hod said. "Or are you so religiously maverick that you''d cling to tradition even in situations when such things are riddled with ws?" He directed that pointed question to both the Minister of Information and the Minister of Coin, making them both shift ufortably in their seats.


    "I do not care for your logic in this, Hod. There are things more important than mere sensibilities. There are rules that should not be broken. Laws that should not be touched on. If this boy here is of the Second Boundary, then it is a tainted achievement, brought about by his Father breaking the taboo. Either way, it should be scorned, not celebrated.


    It''s filthy," the Minister of Coin said.N?v(el)B\\jnn


    "Ha! An Academy founded for building strength in the youths, and you would expel a boy that was too strong? You wouldbel him a muddy duckling for getting too strong too quickly?" Hod said. "In a time when our Eastern borders are on fire, that is what you''re suggesting, is it, Jmire? You''d rather the Kingdom burn to the ground than have things shift from your tradition?" Hod asked.


    He attacked viciously with his tongue, but Oliver could hear no anger in his words, despite their sharpness ¨C he merely jabbed at the vital points in the arguments, and slew them, as others might with a sword.


    "As I''ve said a thousand times before, we had merely need send the mercenaries in before the situation in the East bes too vtile. Though, I fail to see that such a thing is necessary yet. Lord ckwell has been sent to lead the defence, has he not? As oafish as the man might be, he''s sufficient to drive away a few Eastern savages," the Minister of Coin said.


    "Pah, trust the Minister of Coin to try and solve everything with mercenaries and money. You mean to rely on the very man who you currently aim to spite. Look at the pin on his chest, durd, and recall ckwell''s announcement! He''s taken the young heir of Patrick as a ward," Hod said pointedly.


    Tevar grunted in acknowledgement at that. "He makes a point, Jmire. We would make ourselves appear intolerant if we handle this with too firm a hand."


    "And weak, if we handle it tooxly," Lazarus, the Minister of Information put in gravely.


    "Then, have the boy answer the question," Gavlin said.


    "We''ve argued this, to go against tradition¡ª" Lazarus began, with Jmire nodding resolutely along with him.


    "Bah," Hod said. "There is only a certain amount an argument can carry, it would seem. These marble-headed men wander in circles. We''ve already discussed this! Move on, you durds!"


    "Hod, enough," Tevar said, holding up his hand for quiet. He spoke firmly, but without the fury in his voice that he''dmanded early. Meekly, Hod obliged, but he did so with a smile, as though certain that he knew Tevar to be on his side.


    Oliver briefly stole a nce at the man who was speaking so furiously in his defence, once more noting his youth. Hod caught him looking, and pulled a taunting face, the sort of thing that might scare a child, and then he winked, breaking out into a broad grin.


    "Tradition has its ce. Lazarus and Jmire have both pointed out its worth. But in times of violence, tradition does not make the most staunch of walls. If Dominus has already taught his son of the Boundaries, and indeed, if the boy has already exceeded them himself, then it is no real taboo that wemit in its discussion," General Tevar said, his voice grave, but his decision firm.


    "Tell us what we already know then, child."


    "Indeed, I exceeded the Second Boundary some months ago. I will not have you tarnish Dominus Patrick''s good name with your assumptions, though. He did not break your taboo. He did not tell me of the Boundaries until I had exceeded them," Oliver said.


    "Rubbish! Hog! You lie! You lie as easily as your father! My mind is made up already," Jmire hissed. "This here is a poison!


    Remove it, Tevar, before it rots the body!"

 Chapter 429 Retribution - Part 4

    "An impossibility," Lazarus agreed. "There is no basis for such a im. The youngest record we have of a boy breaking the Second Boundary is seventeen. One Rudeus Finch. He did so under particr circumstances, after the destruction of his House, the murder of his family, and the loss of their estates, it was vengeance that drove him to such strength.


    And vengeance that resulted in his untimely death. He lost his life at eighteen, in a most dishonourable fashion."


    "How is it that you intend to counsel me, then, Lazarus?" Tevar asked, seeming to have no patience for stories.


    "I mean to say that based on historical record, we can assume his im is a lie. But even if we dare ¨C foolishly, might I add ¨C to believe him, then still, the merit of such a thing is tainted by its unnaturalness. The consequences of that early achievement are not likely to bring us reward for cultivating it.


    Indeed, it seems to me more likely to give birth to an abomination, an early death, as in the case of Rudeus," Lazarus said.


    Tevar nodded gruffly. "There is truth in what Lazarus states. The talented that I attended the Academy with, those that learned faster than everyone else, they did not go on to achieve as much as one would expect. Many of them reached the Second Boundary and fizzled out there. Theycked what was required to go any higher. Theycked the will."


    "Comeeeeee on!" Hod cried, incredulously. "You can''t all be spilling such drivel, can you? Mayhaps you''d have a point, if this were someone else ¨C but this is the son of Dominus Patrick!"


    Hod dered it, and the room went silent at his deration. The youthful Minister seemed to allow that silence to seep in intentionally, as he forced the other Ministers to truly absorb the significance of his words.


    "That''s the son of the strongest sword to grace the Stormfront. And even if you believe the nder that the king''s faction has spread ¨C and I''d be disappointed if any of you Ministers would buy into such obvious propaganda ¨C then he would still be the son of the second strongest sword in the Stormfront. If that was the son of Arthur standing before you, you would not be acting so, would you?"


    "If that was the son of Arthur, he would not have struck a professor merely two days into his admission," Jmire pointed out. "I am in agreement with Lazarus. Even if we assume the boy is not lying, he is obviously tainted. He carries his father''s disagreeableness, perhaps worse. The King does not need another repeat of what happened in the past."


    Gavlin spoke up, his words slow, and his voice full of gravel. "If?" He said. "He threw around Heathw like a toy. He caved in Bournemouth''s armour with a wooden sword. If?" He shook his head, as if to indicate that they were all fools.


    Hod smiled, and said nothing. The Minister of des had made his point for him.


    The other two Ministers shifted ufortably, whilst the Minister of Information coughed the frail cough of an old man.


    "A pertinent point, Minister of des," Tevar said. "It should not need to be made, for I can feel the boy''s aura streaming off him. It is no lie. Whatever your opinions on the man might be, Dominus Patrick''s legacy stands before us, and his name makes yet another mark in the annals of history. His boy is the youngest in history to breach udia''s Second Boundary.


    Whatever the case might be, poison, or impurely done, or otherwise, that stands to me as a fact."


    "From my own understanding of this case, it would seem that Heathw himself had been inappropriate. He did not carry himself with the grace we would hope for from our professors. The fact that he set a fully trained soldier in Bournemouth on a student with a wooden sword seems to be evidence of that. As things stand, I believe punishment is in order in both cases."


    "But! General Tevar, can you really punish Heathw for a deserved animosity? It is Dominus'' son, after all ¨C would he not expect a certain level from him?" Jmire pointed out.


    "Hypocritical, good Minister of Coin ¨C it goes against what you were saying earlier. By the way, is Heathw not a man of your faction? Does your coin not find its way into his purse? I do not mean to use you of being unbiased but¡­ actually, that''s exactly what I use you of being," Hod said, as he stretched gleefully over the arm of the other chair.


    "Kick the weak professor, I say, good General, and give the boy a pardon."


    "Too far, Hod, too far," Tevar said, his voice betraying his exhaustion. "Will anyone else speak in Heathw''s defence?"


    He looked pointedly towards the Minister of Information as he said that, but Lazarus betrayed no interest in the matter. When it was quite clear that he would not raise his hand, General Tevar continued.


    "Then we will have Heathw removed from his post, for conduct unbing of a professor. Galvin, I''ll have you find a recement professor of sword to cover for Heathw''s lessons, and Jmire, I''d have you find your man some assistant work for the rest of the year. We will review his casee next autumn, and see if he is ready to be reinstated as a full-coloured professor."


    Oliver noticed the Minister of Coin flush with anger at Heatw being called ''his man''. Hod grinned triumphantly at it, whilst Jmire seemed to direct all the anger that he felt for the Minister of Logic towards Oliver instead.n/o/vel/b//in dot c//om


    "Yes, General," Galvin said, rising briefly from his seat with a sharp salute to receive the order, as though they were on campaign. Tevar acknowledged the formality with a nod.


    "As for the boy¡­ For now, I revoke the notion of expulsion, out of respect for Lord ckwell, as he''s about to begin his Eastern campaign. As punishment, he''ll spend the evening enduring the Three Trials, and will be barred from all swords training lectures in future," Tevar said.

 Chapter 430 Retribution - Part 5

    Oliver had no idea what the Three Trails were, but from the grim looks on the rest of the Minister''s faces, and the malicious smile that had begun to rise from Jmire, he could guess that they were not particrly pleasant affairs.


    "Might I note, General¡­ Not as a means of disputing the punishment that you''ve handed out after the fact, but as an acknowledgement of circumstance, I do believe the boy to still be wounded from his recent battle with the Yarmdon," Hod suggested tentatively. It seemed that once Tevar had spoken his orders, even he would not risk directly opposing them.


    That seemed to surprise the General. "Is that true, Patrick?"


    "Minor injuries, General, they''re still having trouble closing," Oliver said. "Though, I''m surprised that the Minister of Logic knew of it."


    Hodughed at that. "All in attendance noted that you were covered in blood, Young Patrick, despite not having taken a wound. One would hope that such knowledge would be proffered by the Minister of Information, but even I might notice obvious things like this."


    "I would first dispute the veracity of the ims of having done battle with the Yarmdon¡ª" Lazarus began in a bumbling sort of way, but Tevar immediately dismissed it.


    "Yes, yes, we''ve already been through something simr. If we dispute every point, it''ll be full dark outside before we get anywhere with this. Out of recognition for young Patrick''s wounds, I''ll have it seen to that the Trials avoid the wounded areas, so that they might heal. Are you satisfied with this conclusion, Oliver Patrick?" General Tevar asked.


    Oliver dipped his head. "I am, General Tevar, and I thank you for your licence when deciding my punishment."


    The General grunted at that. "You wouldn''t be calling me lenient if you knew what the punishment was. Most students would rather face the pain of expulsion."


    "Physical pain, is it, General?" Oliver asked. "As long as I may keep my limbs, then you will find noints with me."


    Tevar went silent for a moment at that, studying Oliver, as he bowed his head. "Simrities between you and your father¡­ I see them, but I also see the differences as well. Tell me, before I dismiss you, what is it you seek here?"


    "Strength, General," Oliver replied without hesitation. "I came here looking for ways to improve my sword, though it would seem my actions have deprived me of that opportunity. Barring the sword, I wished to know what it meant to lead. What it takes to create a Great General."


    "¡­You can go," Tevar said atst. Oliver wasn''t sure whether or not his reply displeased him, but regardless, he nodded his head once more, ncing at Hod, before turning on his heel and marching from the halls.


    ¡­n/o/vel/b//in dot c//om


    ¡­


    Four hourster, and it was already dark. Such was the way with winter days. Oliver stood on the steps of the doorway between the Red Castle and the courtyard, exining the proceedings to Verdant, as the two of them watched a thick stream of snowkes fall slowly from the sky.


    Nearly all the students that passed could hardly help themselves from sparing him a nce. It was hard to tell whether it was Oliver they were looking at, or the youthful priest, and his shining bald shaved head.


    The priest sighed, not for the first time in their conversation. "To have two of the Ministers so openly against you¡­ It is not a favourable position to be in. One would hope, more than anything, for their name to never reach as far as a Minister''s ears. You''ve already broken that taboo."


    "Well, at least I managed to avoid getting expelled ¨C and Heathw actually got punished too, which is almost amusing," Oliver said. "Almost enough for me to say that it was worth it."


    "You wouldn''t say that, if you knew what the Three Trials had in store for you," Verdant said gravely. Then he paused to consider it a moment. "Or rather, you might ¨C but no one else would."


    "Ah, I was about to say that that was exactly what the Ministers said ¨C but with thatst part you''ve managed to make yourself original, congrattions, priest," Oliver said.


    "Your mood has certainly lightened," Verdant noted. "And I would rather you not call me priest. Verdant is a name that I happen to like."


    "Well, to a degree, I suppose it has. I didn''t expect to be so bothered by the prospect of expulsion, but I suppose I do feel guilty about letting ckwell''s reputation get stained, after the man went out of his way to be good to me," Oliver said. He nced behind him, feeling the gaze of another pair of students. These were yellow shirts this time. He sighed as he realized that.


    "Even the Serving ss have learned to stare."


    "I would imagine that''s more to do with the announcement of your Trials than anything else. I warn you, given the rarity of their use, you''re likely to attract a crowd," Verdant said.


    "A crowd? In this weather? These soft nobles? I''m sure they''ll freeze and get bored part way through," Oliver said.


    "You''re likely to freeze before them, I''m afraid," Verdant said, ominously. "What a time for the snow to pick up. They''ll have to break the ice across the pond for the Third Trial."


    Oliver did deen to ask Verdant what he meant by that. He thought that. He knew that he would find out soon himself regardless, and thought it better not to dwell on that fact. Within the hour, the Trials of Punishment were set to begin, after all.


    ¡­


    ¡­


    An hourter, outside the Central Castle. Mealtime was nearing its end. Verdant had advised Oliver that he eat something light, but not too heavy. Reframing from asking why, Oliver had done just that, and now he found himself on a square of garden, a short distance away from the warm glow of the weing Central Castle doorway.

 Chapter 431 Retribution - Part 6

    A path of scattered stone led up to another stone circle, set underneath the protective grasp of a well-rounded tree canopy. Oliver had noticed the space the day before, and wondered what use it had. The stone circle, set within the grass, had seemed oddly singr,pared to the well-tended rest of the garden, with the neatly-cut hedges. It had seemed as though it was missing something.


    And now Oliver found out what, as he saw the contraption of thick wood lying in wait at its very centre. He''d seen such things before, during his time as a ve. Wooden stocks, with holes for the head, and holes for the hands. They''d been a particrly popr punishment, to leave an ill-tempered ve in them for a couple of days until he better remembered his manners.


    This time, though, it was quite clear they did not mean to simply leave him there. There was a man waiting. Well, a man was the wrong word for it ¨C this man was a soldier more than he was a man. His eyes bespoke of his obedience, and the whip in his hand bespoke of his intent. The helmet on his head marked his upation, and the golden colours on his shoulders marked his rank ¨C a sergeant.


    He was not the only one there, of course. The stone circle wasrge, and the surrounding space was evenrger. There were several benches scattered through the garden, with foundations amongst them, and bird houses set up in trees, and everything needed to add to a pleasant walk.


    Only, today''s attraction was blood, and the nobility that attended, with warm drinks in hand, made it clear that such a thing was their purpose as well.


    The Serving ss were just as eager. As soon as someone left the dining hall, they would be confronted with that crowd gathering in front of them. The number of people was made even more obvious by the torches that had been set up everywhere. When dark came, much of the Academy''s grounds were left to the ckness ¨C there was just too muchnd to try and light up.


    This garden was one of those ces. It was only now ¨C as an irregrity ¨C that it had been lit up.


    Oliver was not surprised to see them. Thanks to Verdant''s counsel, he was warned well in advance of how many students were likely to turn up.


    "Tales of today''s events have likely already spread throughout the Academy, Young Wolf. Do not be surprised when theye looking, to see just how Dominus Patrick''s son bleeds," Verdant said, his pale eyes strictly serious.


    Oliver thought ¨C though the priest had done his best to hide it ¨C that Verdant also shared the same interest. It was one thing to be skilled with a sword, it was another to be able to endure suffering. Dominus had instilled in him his value of both attributes, and their necessity, in securing the patronage of udia, and breaking through the Boundaries.


    And so, knowing this, Oliver was able to remain calm, as he stood upon the stone circle, with Verdant by just behind him. Oliver recognized the scarred bald head of his medical professor as well, wearing a particrly thunderous look, as though he thoroughly disapproved of the proceedings.


    As he looked further, Oliver discovered that he was not the only professor present. There were several others, some that he recognized, and some that he didn''t. Volguard was amongst them, and Oliver noted the disappointment on the old professor''s face. He was unsure why that stung, more than the recently bound wounds on his back had.


    "Oliver Patrick ¨C for the crime of striking a professor, you have been sentenced to the Three of the Five Trials," came a deep and resounding voice. Oliver turned around to it. He was surprised to see General Tevar there himself. He''d expected the Minister of Rule to leave it to his subordinates to carry out the grizzly work.


    The students bowed their heads as the man passed, striding up towards the side of his soldier. The man saluted with his free hand.


    "Given that we are within the season of cold, your Trials have been set ordingly. For your first Trial, you will endure five strikes of the whip. For your Second, you will swim the Central Castle''s Moonlight Lake, and for your Third, you will endure the rest of the night outside, with the injuries and wetness your first two trials have cost you," General Tevar said.


    The students were murmuring at that, as though it was the most dreadful thing in the world. Oliver looked at Verdant, to see if he could gauge anything from the man''s reaction. The priest looked half sick. Seeing the confusion on Oliver''s face, he leaned in to whisper. "They''ll make you do the swim clothed, and will offer you no dry material of warmth until dawn.N?v(el)B\\jnn


    Hypothermia is more than a risk ¨C it seems a near certainty."


    The professor of medicine seemed to share Verdant''s opinion, for his mouth was drawn in a hard angry line, as he red at Tevar. Tevar turned slightly, to receive the look, but the General brooked no response. It was clear: these were their ways, these were their traditions. There was only so much that the rules would bend in his favour.


    "If the student fails these Trials, by the brittleness of the mind, or by a giving out of the body, the judgement of the Gods will be clear, and he will be expelled immediately," General Tevar said.


    To Oliver, that cleared up more than a few misunderstandings. He had expected Ministers that were so set against him to argue more harshly against his rescinded suspension. But it seemed that they were merely betting on the hope that he would fail his Trials, and be expelled anyway.


    It was a way of doing it that would save the Academy face, for it was not simply their decision anymore, but the will of the Gods.

 Chapter 432 Retribution - Part 7

    "Oliver Patrick, do you acknowledge these Trials and agree to their undertaking?" General Tevar''s voice rang out loud in the cold night. The students were already shivering, despite wearing their thick coats and having ess to warm drinks.


    These were his enemies ¨C Oliver made sure to look around at them. They were those who had greeted him with hostility, merely on name alone. And again, most of them came looking for his blood. He saw ckthorne amongst them, dressed as warmly as the rest, her face unreadable.


    Oliver had to hide his smile. This was what the nobility called a Trial? There was no Trial that they could set him that could equal the horrors of the battlefield that Francis had created. There was no pain that could match the responsibility that came with shouldering hundreds of lives. This was the sort of struggle that Oliver had endured nearly daily in his young life as a ve.


    This was the suffering that had powered him through the Second Boundary faster than all else. What was there even to prepare for? This was who he was. Dominus had once dered that he''d met no man able to endure suffering as capably as Beam. Oliver dared to believe that. He gave his answer, and then became Beam again, for the strength and resilience of his peasant self.


    "I do," he said firmly, making sure that his voice was calm, and level, dignified against all who would expect him to feel fear.


    General Tevar nodded, and this time Oliver knew that he had not imagined it. There was approval there.


    "Remove your upperyers and bear the skin of your back, then, we will begin the trial now, whilst the clock hovers around eight, and acknowledge that there should be twelve hours of Trial before dawn," Tevar said.


    Oliver did as he was bid. He removed that blue jacket, with the golden hexagonal stitches that he''d grown so fond of. Pointedly, he took the pin of Lord ckwell as well ¨C he knew that would be what the other students eyed, more than anything else. He handed all he had to Verdant, grateful for the priest. Even one half-ally meant much, in a sea of unfriendly faces.


    And then he removed his shirt, and there was once more a murmur through the crowd as they saw the bandages that graced his back.


    "Unwind them, if you would, Verdant," Oliver said. The priest looked to General Tevar, as though half-expecting him to say that he could leave the bandages on, but the General did not interrupt, he merely continued to observe with a grim expression on his face.


    Verdant had said earlier that the scars on Oliver''s back told the truth of his battle with the Yarmdon far more than rumour had. As the bandages were unveiled, bit by bit, Oliver eyed the reaction of all those that he could see, and he found that there was truth in those statements. Some of the students could not even look. There were men amongst them who turned away.


    And then the fresh wounds were unveiled, those still bloody, those that had not healed quite yet, toplement the scars. They spoke of the battle with the Yarmdon with incredible veracity. The murmurs had died out now, and silence reigned. There was the body of an individual that had lived a hard life.


    If the Ministers had seen those scars, they would not have wondered how a child of a mere fifteen years could have broken through the Second Boundary when he did.


    Had they been wiser, and more knowledgeable in the boundaries, they might have even seen what Dominus had seen ¨C the impossible struggle Beam had had to ovee merely for his progress to be registered, as the Curse of Ingolsol gobbled up everything that he strived to achieve. Without the Curse, he likely has broken through that Second barrier even younger.


    Even before the suffering that life hadid out for him, Dominus had seen that his talents rivalled that of Arthur.


    General Tevar did not try to hide his curiosity. He stood in front of Oliver at first, seeing the scars on his chest. He acknowledged them with narrowed eyes, and then walked to the back, not bothering to hide what he was doing.


    Then he spoke in a softer tone, so that only those in the crowd closest to him could hear.


    "What was Gorm''s mistake?" He asked. There was a second question hidden in there. How could a man of Gorm''s might fall before the force of Lombard, and an unknown boy. How could a man of the Fourth Boundary, with his renowned history, and his many victories, lose?


    "He sensed more than he could see," Oliver said, speaking of Francis, and the change in the Yarmdon''s fighting style when they felt the mage''s presence. They''d grown more reckless then, as Gorm allowed his men to be blooded.


    The Yarmdon Commander had sensed that Jok was about to break through to the Third Boundary, and had dared to allow him to do that, knowing that they needed all the strength they could to match whatever darkness could follow.n/?/vel/b//jn dot c//om


    General Tevar nodded at that. He knew the details of the battle with the Yarmdon, even if he was not one to speak of it publically. His reaction betrayed that understanding.


    "Sergeant ¨C see that you avoid the still closing wounds as you strike with your whip," General Tevar said, more loudly, as he walked back to the front.


    "Yes, General," the sergeant said, saluting.


    "Approach the stocks, boy. Stay still until the deed is done," Tevar said.


    Oliver did as he was told. The wood was dry as he ran his neck through it. He realized that the stocks must have been stored somewhere indoors, for the whole world was moist by now. An odd thing to notice, before the pain of the whip.


    There were no furthermands. Oliver heard the settling of feet, as the sergeant set himself up, a few strides away, and uncoiled the whip in his hands. The first blow came as a surprise, as it nicked the back of his shoulder. Oliver had expected more words from Tevar, in the ceremonious fashion that he had shown up until now, but there was none of that.

 Chapter 433 Retribution - Part 8

    The whip had hit hard, and it opened the skin immediately. A line ran across the shoulder from it, already draining blood. Oliver stiffened from the surprise of it, and from his position in the stocks, he could see some of the women amongst the crowd turn away.


    The whip shed again, and this time Oliver was ready for it. He did not react. He took it like a stone. He''d faced far worse pain than this. The pain would fade, as all things did, though the scar on his back where the whip had slid across the other shoulder would likely remain. Again the skin split and more blood came with it.


    The next strike came to his oblique on his side, as the sergeant worked to avoid the more ring wounds of his back. The change brought more pain with it, worse than the other two strikes, and more blood as well. Again, Oliver did not flinch.


    The other oblique was where the whip went next, and then it ended, right in the middle of his back, just below his neck, with both flicks of the whip splitting the skin, drawing blood. The sergeant seemed to be an expert at that.


    "The First Trial isplete," General Tevar announced, though there was a hesitancy to his voice, as though even he expected more.


    Oliver removed himself from the stocks somewhat cautiously, expecting to be told to wait, and remain, but the order did note, and the First Trial had passed far quicker than he had expected.


    "Professor," Tevar said, nodding to the professor of medicine, toe and inspect Oliver''s back before they proceeded any further.


    Begrudgingly, the professor got to his feet, making it clear that he more than disapproved of the whole proceedings. He''d brought a leather bag with him, which he dropped to the floor with a loud thump of air. The students were inspecting Oliver''s back along with him, noting how it had all run red.


    "Well, as you might expect, General, these are going to need stitches, but seeing as though you''re about to throw the boy into ake, I see little point in administering them now. He will not die of blood loss from them, but I imagine infection will be keen on getting inside, whilst he swims in stagnant water. Satisfied?" The professor asked, his tongue particrly acid.


    The General showed no signs of minding, as though he was used to the man''s attitude. "If that is your assessment, then I will trust it. Rece your clothes, boy, it is time for the Second Trial."


    Thatmand horrified him far more than theshings of the whip. He''d already sacrificed a shirt to blood once that day, he was not willing to do it again. "But General, it''s going to ruin the shirt¡­"


    General Tevar looked at him oddly, in the same way that Verdant had looked at him earlier. Having already received an exnation himself, the priest stepped in to hurriedly exin, lest Oliver invite more of the upper echelon''s ire.


    "He is rather adverse to waste, General, he means no offence by it," Verdant said quickly.


    Tevar grunted at that. "It makes no difference to the Trials. Most would prefer to enjoy ast little bit of warmth between now and the Second Trial. The night will be long, as long as you are sure your decision will not fail you, then do as you please."


    Oliver nodded to Verdant. "If you would take care of my upperyers, until dawnes."


    "Hypothermia, boy," the medical professor put in. "They''re breaking the topyer of ice on theke for you ¨C don''t need to tell you how cold that is, do I? If you''re to survive the night, then you must move, else you''ll be a stiff frozen corpsee morning."


    The medical professor was a gruff intense looking man, but Oliver decided that he rather liked the honest way that he had. He nodded seriously at the advice. He knew the dangers of the cold, to a degree. He knew what it was to spend the night outside in winter, without the benefit of a fire. The unknown variable was the wetness that woulde along with it, and theck of clothes."


    "If you are quite ready then, we will begin the Second Trial," General Tevar said. He said it loudly, so that those that had gathered to watch the Trial could hear. The General did not seem to find the crowd distasteful. Quite the opposite, he seemed to approve of it, as though acknowledging it as a necessary part of the proceedings, invoking the intended effects of deterrence.


    The crowd parted as General Tevar led the way towards theke. Oliver walked directly behind him, his back still exposed, covered with slow-moving rivers of blood. Theshes from a whip weren''t as deep as a weapons wound though, he, like the professor, was not worried about blood loss.


    He looked for Heathw amongst the crowd ¨C he''d supposed the ex-professor would be there, if only to gloat at his misfortune, but in his absence, Oliver supposed that he was likely forbidden to attend. Instead, he saw ckthorn once more, her eyes narrowed as she watched him. Oliver pointedly returned the re. He walked with his shoulders back, proudly, as though he had nothing to hide.n/o/vel/b//in dot c//om


    He found no shame in his scars, only pride. He found no particr shame in his punishment either, only regretting that it would reach more people than he. Once again, he acknowledged his need to fix the hole in his soul, before they caused further problems for him.


    Verdant watched Oliver closely as he walked. Every movement was carefully tracked by Verdant''s pale blue eyes. His gaze was soft, he''d been told, so that even an experienced warrior at times could not feel it. It was not by intention, it was simply how things had turned out to be. Ever since the ocean had imed him, Verdant was a watcher, and a visionary.


    He could see by the way Oliver carried himself that he did not see the full significance of his actions. He acknowledged again that such was the way of the Greats. They moved in what ways they thought to be sensible, without truly realizing the full ripplings of meaning that their actions carried.

 Chapter 434 Retribution - Part 9

    Oliver''s scars proved far more than he thought. His body was more scarred than a veteran''s soldiers, but that was not all. The density of muscle about his small frame was something phenomenal as well. It was not wastefully big muscle, but everything was developed, defined, and hard.


    The boy noticed the gazes of the women that turned away, Verdant saw, for he saw the boy''s disapproval that followed his recognition. What he did not see was the faint swirlings of admiration that hung amongst the crowd as well. Few likely did, aside from Verdant, for all who felt such things kept their feelings carefully hidden.


    The women admired the well-developed body of a warrior, and the men admired his scars.


    Regardless of who, there was a truth unfolding, one that they dared not speak quite yet: the tales that had been told of Oliver Patrick, they were already beginning to believe them.


    Greatness could be stifled with information, propaganda could be spread, but when confronted in the flesh, when action was giving weight, truth shined through, and the Young Wolf Oliver Patrick could not shy away from who he was. He could not keep a low profile for even a day, for, like gravity, the events of the world drifted towards the strong, and things changed to flow in their favour.


    And so Verdant acknowledged it.


    ¡­


    ¡­


    The crowd had only grownrger when they arrived at the Moonlight Lake. This was the part of the challenge that most of them would dread more than any other. The Moonlight Lake wasrge, at nearly half a mile in diameter, it was one of the biggerkes thaty upon Academy grounds ¨C and indeed, there were many of them.


    Wearing their jackets, with their breath fogging in front of them, as they rubbed their hands together to keep warm, these people knew of the cold, far more intimately than they could emphasise with the pain. They flinched away from the whip, knowing it to be horrible, but most of them had not experienced pain enough to reallypare it to.


    But the cold was a different story. They''d felt cold, to a degree, and most of them could not even bring themselves to part with their jackets, not in this weather. The snow was falling calmly from the sky, in thick kes, and Oliver was standing calmly on the edge of the Moonlightke, on the end of a short jetty that was meant forunching boats.


    The path in the ice that had been spoken of was there. Someone had been out in a boat with a hammer. The ice was less than half an inch thick, so not truly an obstacle, but still an inconvenience that needed to be dealt with. The Trial would have been far different, and far more dangerous if it was left.


    On the edge of the jetty, Oliver looked out over the dark water. The darkness itself seemed to only add to the cold. He recalled those winter mornings meditating before the waterfall with Dominus. That was surely worse than this ¨C with the mountain cold¡­ But still, it was a less-than-appetizing prospect.


    He could see floating blocks of ice amongst the water where it had been shattered. They''d cleared the way for him, true, but it was still a slush that was left in his wake. It was hardly going to be an enjoyable task.


    General Tevar stepped up behind him, acknowledging the cold with a nce. He spoke once more to the crowd.


    "The Second Trial will now begin. Oliver Patrick will swim from one end of the Moonlight Lake to the other. Do we have a volunteer to drag his body from theke if he should fail?" Tevar asked.


    Oliver grimaced at the grim announcement. The day before, Tevar''s question likely would have been met with silence, but now it was Verdant that answered him. "I do not believe it will be necessary, but I will be avable regardless," he said solemnly.


    Tevar nodded in reply. "Oliver Patrick. You may confront the cold clothed, or you may remove what you will before your entry. Whatever your choice, your state of dress will remain the same going into the Third Trial. What clothes you decide to take off will be withheld from you until the end of the trials. Is that clear?"


    Oliver nodded. He''d already taken theyers from his torso. Verdant held onto them. He looked down on his trousers, and debated whether he would want to remove them as well. His shoes too, they would serve to weigh him down as he swam, but they would also serve as a barrier between his feet and the snow, once this Second Trial was over.n/?/vel/b//jn dot c//om


    It was a grim decision to make. These clothes were far too fine for him to befortable with removing them, but the boots more so than the rest. Being the good treated leather that it was, he knew they likely would have been fine, even if he''d kept them on, but he decided not to take the risk with them.


    He slipped them off, keeping only his socks and trousers on to deal with the snow once he was done ¨C despite the fact that they would be wet ¨C and he handed the boots to Verdant.


    The priest took it from him wordless, as Oliver gave a nod to Tevar. A tension had built up as the students waited for Oliver to ready himself. As he gave that nod to Tevar, there were a few restless anticipatory shuffles.


    "Very well, if you are ready, then you may begin," Tevar said.


    The general did sound as though he was rushing him as he spoke, but there was a hint of urgency in his voice all the same. The trial by cold was meant to be a twelve-hour long affair, until dawn finally broke. Oliver stepped up to the edge of the jetty, allowing his toes to hang over the edge. His socks were already sodden from the wet snow, and he could feel the heat rapidly draining from his feet.

 Chapter 435 Retribution - Part 10

    He watched as his breath fogged in front of him, and then he brought in a deep breath, and plunged straight into theke, without further hesitation.


    The shock of the cold hit like a hammer to the ribcage.


    His chest tightened, and an instinct to gasp for breath kicked in. Had he not been ustomed to it from his swims with Dominus, then he likely would have swallowed a mouthful of water, ending the challenge before it even began.


    He''d immediately gone down past his head, and the cold felt like a headache against his skull. He forced himself to remain calm, as his body got used to the sudden change in heat. The panic grew lesser with each moment that passed, and by the time he had surfaced, a calm remained.


    His expression betrayed no signs of his difort. He leaned forward, and settled into a swim, his trousers feeling heavy about his legs. He was d not to have his boots on. They would have made the affair even worse.


    After a minute of paddling, the cold was forgotten, for a time, as his body settled into an equilibrium, and the muscles warmed themselves with exercise. Chunks of ice battered against his hands as he swam, and tapped against his head when he drove it underwater, but to Oliver, it was far from the unpleasant task that it likely seemed to the others.


    He knew the swim itself was going to be the easy part. The hard part would be enduring those long hours in the cold.


    Verdant watched, along with the students, as theke waterspped away the blood from Oliver''s back. There were a few mutters amongst them, a shared sentiment that they could think of no worse thing that they''d rather be doing than swimming through the ice-coldke, but many of them simply remained silent.


    They were looking, and waiting, seeming to expect the mask to crack. There was an idea of Oliver Patrick now, that they had. It had been projected to them through rumour, and given more colour, after the events of today.


    There was a desire to see a human beneath the strangeness, but no matter how hard they looked, they could not find a trace of weakness. Oliver did not even slow as he reached the midpoint of theke.


    He had settled into a steady and relentless swim from the start, a swim of respectable pace, and he had not deviated from that, even as the distance added up, and the cold sucked more strength from his muscles.


    He tackled the task with all the discipline and sternness that one would expect from a seasoned soldier, not a student. That fact did not seem to be lost on General Tevar. The man watched as keenly as the rest, though from the stone of his face, you would be hard-pressed to tell.


    The crowd stayed, for the duration of Oliver''s swim. It was not an awfully long time ¨C a mere ten minutes ¨C but it was a long time to spend in silence, and in the cold. They continued to watch, and Oliver climbed out the other side, hauling his body out of the water with impressive ease and grace.


    The boy looked to Tevar, the question written on his face. The General nodded in return. "The Second Trial has beenpleted. The Third trial will now begin. Oliver Patrick will need to survive the night within the Courtyards, without the assistance of outside heat, recement clothing, or other aid.


    He will be under watch by a rotating shift of guardsmen, and a member of the medical staff will be on hand, should he need it. That concludes my overseeing of this punishment. I will take my leave, and returne dawn."


    With those final words, the General slotted his hands behind his back, and calmly marched away. Slowly, starting with a small trickle, the first bit of the crowd began to break off as well. Though, Verdant noticed, that they still watched as they went. They wanted to see Oliver shiver, but the boy did not oblige them.


    Instead, after receiving the announcement that the trial had concluded, he began his walk back around theke, calm and leisurely.


    A show was what he made of it. Feigning invincibility. If the whole school would be his enemy, then he would present to them an image of infallibility, and discourage such threats before they manifest themselves.


    "Verdant, the General''s making me take those," the medical professor said in his gruff voice, not bothering to disguise his irritation. "For all the good it''ll do. I suppose I''m going to have to spend the whole night awake, overseeing this."


    "You''ll be staying out yourself, professor?" Verdant asked in surprise.


    "No," the professor said, looking at him as though he was stupid. "But they''ll call on me anyway, the moment something happens, won''t they? I doubt my sleep is going to be untroubled, expecting that call."


    "You don''t believe he''ll survive the night, then?" Verdant pressed.


    The man merely grunted in reply. "I see you''re already enamoured with him, priest Verdant, but though you might have faith in your God of Oceans, I''ve seen great men humbled by the cold. By even the most minor things. Strength of character doesn''t mean much, when your body has already passed the threshold. Just the slightest push. Like a tower of cards.


    A mighty General, felled by the slightest knick in his artery."


    He spoke as solemnly as if he were speaking from experience. With the scars on his bald head, and the haunted look behind his sses, it was obvious that the man had not lived an untroubled past.


    The crowd parted to allow Oliver through as they spoke. The medical professor grunted as he saw him.


    "Move. The whole night boy. Do not keep this fa?ade up for any longer. It will kill you," he said gruffly.n/o/vel/b//in dot c//om


    Oliver nced back at the crowd. "I do not n to. It has already served its effect. I can feel the blood leaving my fingers."

 Chapter 436 Retribution - Part 11

    "Tsch¡­ The fools who designed this test all those centuries ago, they didn''t know what they were doing. Even more than the Three Trials in the summer, this is liable to get someone killed," the man said. He red at the sky, as though cursing someone, and then began to shamble away, Oliver''s clothes in his hand.


    "I had to hand them off. They didn''t want them in reach," Verdant exined.


    Oliver shrugged, and nced at the crowd again. It was a mere quarter of what it was before, as the students continued to stream away. The interesting part was done ¨C now they would get their news and their entertainment in the morning.


    "I suppose tonight will be a night of training then," he said. "Seeing as I have to keep moving."


    "It will do no good for your wounds to push yourself too hard," Verdant said, but Oliver was already on the floor, performing an energetic set of press-ups, as he sought to get the heat back into his body that the swim ¨C and the slow walk back ¨C had cost him.


    Verdant sighed, realizing that it wasn''t as though Oliver had much choice.


    Though Oliver was treating it quite cavalierly, and he deemed the test to be easy, if anything, he still had to pay it the minimum amount of respect that it was due. Spending the whole night, keeping his body heat up, that would be the answer to that.


    Once he''d done his press-ups, he began to run. Lightly at first, and then faster, until he was sprinting. He bounced from foot to foot when he came to a stop, allowing his feet to loosen up. There was a freedom to his body that he hadn''t felt in a long time. Though wounded, this was the body of the strong.


    Since his battle with Francis, he was stronger than ever before. Faster. More agile. His sparring with Bournemouth had already proved his improved skill with the sword. There were other heights to be reached, despite the challenges that were inherent in them. There was the Third Boundary to w towards.


    For the next hour, Oliver trained like he had not trained in a while. Since the situation in the vige the month before, he''d been battling constantly. He hadn''t been able to train just for the sake of learning, for the sake of progress. There''d been a purpose in it. The desire to protect, the need to fulfil the duty that Dominus had set him.


    This here was a far more yful thing. To test his limits and devise new skills, like a schr ying with old forms toe up with new theories. It was a wonderful thing. This was hardly training, it was more like y.n/?/vel/b//jn dot c//om


    He tried bncing in a handstand, after he''d run out of things to do. Immediately he stumbled, and managed to recover himself by falling into a forward roll andunching himself back to his feet.


    The crowd only held a handful of people now. Oliver hardly seemed to notice them anymore, he hardly seemed to care. There were five yellow shirts, and one girl with ck hair dressed in blue. Verdant recognized ckthorn, but he was not aware of the Serving ss boys that stood there, or their rtionship to Oliver. He wanted to ask, but he dared not interrupt.


    Two hours passed in the darkening night, and Oliver had half forgotten the cold. His trousers were sodden, and they''d have no chance of drying anytime soon, as were his socks. The bare skin of his chest was cold to touch, but the heat of his body beneath it was very much alive. His condition had stabilized, and he was quite confident he could survive that night like that.


    "Verdant, do you think you could get me a practice sword?" He asked suddenly. He''d been ying, and Verdant had watched transfixed. ying with the right word. The boy, covered in scars, likely freezing cold, had actually been enjoying himself, as he tossed his body around, finding the limits of his strength.


    Verdant found it a marvel, but Oliver''s words startled him out of his revelry.


    "A practice sword..?" He repeated thoughtfully. He did not have to ask why Oliver had wanted such a thing, he merely considered how he would get it.


    He was meant to be a member of staff at the Academy, after all. His position was an ambiguous one ¨C they didn''t seem to know quite what to do with a priest of the rather unpopr god Behomothia, but they''d allowed him the job regardless. To that end, Verdant made sure to uphold their rules.


    He pondered it for a moment, wondering whether it was breaking the rules of the trial. Then he wondered whether he would be able to get into the storage room at this time of night, as he imagined the walk there, and the walk back¡­


    "I suppose I can, if you like," Verdant said. "It will take me a while, though. Half an hour, perhaps?"


    "Ah, you don''t have to. But it would be nice if you could," Oliver said. He''d stayed in the area around the Central Castle by unspoken agreement, to make it easier for the soldiers that watched over him, and the trainee medical staff that were on hand with them.


    "I''ll go," Verdant assured him.


    ¡­


    ¡­


    Oliver spent much of the night like that. Midnight came and went, and his relentless movements did not cease. In fact, they grew even more intense. He found that there was a wealth of discovery to be had. There was so much he had not yet tapped into, so much he had gained, and not yet integrated. It was an absolute delight.


    That warm feeling that came with strength and progress, the feeling that touched Oliver''s heart more than any other thing, filled him as he yed in the snowlit courtyard. He quickly got the hang of handstands, and then proceeded to perform handstand pushups. It was a skill that would have taken him much longer to acquire in the past, but now it came to him easily.


    The newfound bnce that he''d gained from his prolonged dizzy spells, and his newfound strength from all the battles that he''d been forced to undergo, they worked together excitedly, as he conquered one task after another.

 Chapter 437 The Beginning of Something Powerful - Part 1

    When Verdant arrived with his sword, Oliver yed with that too, as he tried to process all that he had learned since truly considering itst. Before, in the mountains, when he''d developed a new skill, it had been the result of extensive thinking, extensive experimentation. Now he had all the experience gained from battle to augment that thinking.


    He tranted the flow that he had picked up on into logical thought. He felt the bnce of his de, as he shifted from one stance to the next, in the poison water style, going from trickster, to hero, to monster. The shifts were swift, and they were exciting, and he moved with explosive danger.


    He caught the looks from the soldiers as they watched him, and from the medical staff too. They''d brought woollen nkets with them to help them endure the cold as they watched, and they repeatedly switched with one another, as they went to fetch hot drinks from the dining hall. Ufortable though they were, they seemed to take great interest in what he was doing.


    He grinned, imagining how strange he must look to them, as he practised, but he found he did not care.


    Only Verdant realized that they did not stare in curiosity, but with awe. Even Oliver''s y and his practice ¨C that which was meant to be done in private, as he learned new things ¨C had a level to it now that it approached art, and invoked admiration. In the dead of night, when everything was washed in darkness, Oliver seemed to shine as he moved.


    The more he watched, the more the priest of Behomothia was sure of what he saw. The Young Wolf, Oliver Patrick, was that which his visions had foretold. There could be no other answers. No other exnations.


    ¡­


    ¡­


    As the early morning pressed on, and the air continued to drop, Oliver''s sword did not slow, but the excitement that it had carried with it, started to change. The feeling spread to all corners of his mind, as one by one, he overturned things that he had neglected, improving and sharpening that which had potential.


    He now knew progress to be a field as well as a river. As a field, there were various delicious treats growing on it, and each one had to be tended to carefully, and cropped just right, to allow that which was around it to grow.


    He tended to all those crops, and with each one that he sated, he felt his strength growing, and he also felt him stepping nearer to that which he had avoided. Those parts of his mind that he did not wish to dwell in.


    It started with the memories of the discovery of those children. A thought that he''d washed through many times. A thought he''d had toe to terms with on the battlefield, in order to clear his mind. Yet still, it sat, like a jagged rock, painful every time he stepped on it. The memories of failure.


    There was nothing he could do to change it, but it did not cure what went with it. As he swung his sword, those darkened thoughts continued to flow. The death of Loriel. The memory cut so deep that it almost drew blood. The ughter of the vigers at the hands of the Yarmdon.


    Then Francis'' army of monsters¡­ and then his that grand pain, like a fire, burning through his flesh, when he''d suddenly lost consciousness, and awoke to find his Master mid-battle with a fragment of Ingolsol.


    Strange memories. Memories that seemed like they didn''t belong in his world. He dreamt of steel-ted armour, of swords, and cavalry, and grand armies shing. He had not imagined a dark mage, casting icicles the size of houses. He had not imagined ever stepping so close to the Gods.


    ''And yet you always were¡­''


    A voice in his head. He shivered, for the first time. His sword paused. The two medical overseers looked at each other, about to step in. But Oliver''s sword resumed a momentter.


    With the voice, he returned to the heart of the pain. The depths of fire. That which had made him lose control in front of Heathw. He, who''d managed to maintain a bnce for so many years,pletely losing himself. It was unheard of.


    That, and the silence of Ingolsol within him. The loss of the weight of udia, as though a part of his own consciousness had been wed away.n/?/vel/b//jn dot c//om


    ''Ah, but we have,'' the voice said. It was not the dark voice that he remembered. It was filled with weakness. It was the voice of an old man in his sick bed, as he waited for a fatal disease to deal the killing blow.


    He swung his sword with even more vigour, as the voice finally spoke to him. Despite the pain, he reached for it more. He understood that it was necessary. He''d been forced to understand that. It had been with him too long. It was hard to tell where Beam began and where the Curse ended.


    And then with udia''s influence, even more of himself had been monopolized into two forces.


    As he''d practised, as a result of the battle, he''d felt strength and potential that he''d never felt before.


    But now here, before thest untouched patch, there was more potential than everything else put together. It reeked of the dark, and of the mystical, yet something in Oliver ¨C by intuition ¨C could tell that it was stronger than anything else.


    He reached for it¡­ only for his arm to fall short. A handful of ashes was all that seemed to be left. The voice spoke no further, and in solemn silence, Oliver felt his smile fade, as he waited for morning toe.


    Dawn came just as the dining hall had opened, and students made their way to get a warm breakfast before their lectures began.


    Those that arrived early managed to catch a nce of Oliver, with a sheen of sweat on his forehead, as he continued to practise with his sword, shifting from one form to the next.

 Chapter 438 The Beginning of Something Powerful - Part 2

    "Tevar ising," Verdant warned him. Only with that warning did he finally stop.


    His arms were tired. His whole body, really, was tired. Theck of sleep had drained him. But despite that fatigue, he still felt that he could have gone on for longer. It was nothingpared to the intensity of a long battle. It had been a calm bit of meditation inparison.


    The medical professor had arrived before Tevar had, bearing Oliver''s clothes.


    "I don''t suppose he has to wait for an announcement before he gets his clothes back, does he?" The man called out to Tevar as the General strode over. "Dawn has alreadye, after all."


    Tevar gave a nod, and made a motion with his hand, indicating that it was fine. The professor tossed them into Oliver''s arms as soon as he was given approval. The professor grabbed Oliver''s shoulder after unburdening himself, feeling his body temperature.


    He grunted. "Eyes," he said, then reached up to firmly grab Oliver''s eyelid, and pull it back. He grunted again, and then felt his pulse on his wrist.


    "Well?" Tevar asked, as he approached.


    "Remarkable," the professor said, though when he said it, the word sounded almost like a bad thing. He seemed almost disgusted that they''d been worried.


    "The Third Trial isplete, then. For the first time in a decade, we''ve had a student make it through, Oliver Patrick. Though, I have to say, you look considerably better than thest one that made it through," Tevar said. His strict voice seemed softened somewhat as he offered those congrattions.


    "You''re just pleased that you don''t have a dead man on your hands," the professor said bluntly. Oliver expected he was likely the only one in the whole Academy who could speak to the General so bluntly. "Had he been of a weaker sort, you''d have made an enemy of ckwell."


    Tevar grimaced as being seen through so inly, but he begrudgingly admitted it. "A dead student is always a problem," he said. "Well, that is all, boy. You''ve been delivered your punishment, and you''ve endured it. Go back to your room, rest, and get yourself warm. And I''d ask that you keep your head out of trouble in future.


    Dismissed."


    Oliver saluted. The General looked at him oddly as he strode away, but Oliver just shrugged. The medical professor trailed after Tevar, apparently content that he''d done his job. The other students that walked into the dining hall with them whispered as they went.


    "Not going to put your jacket back on?" Verdant asked. Oliver looked down at his clothes and wrinkled his nose, shaking his head.


    "No, my trousers are far too wet for that."


    ¡­


    ¡­


    Within the hour, Oliver had dressed himself back in his room, handing the wet clothes off to a serving woman to be cleaned, and then redressing himself in his uniform. Gods, it felt good to be dry again.


    Verdant had seemed surprised when Oliver asked how long they had before the lectures. Oliver wasn''t sure quite what was so surprising. Of course, he was still going to attend, despite missing the night of sleep. He had the perfect opportunity to add to an illusion of himself. It would not be particrly hard to push himself for another mere 9 hours.


    The priest hadn''t said anything, but something behind his eyes had glowed with approval. He''d insisted on fetching him breakfast on his behalf, so that he wouldn''t need to rush himself ragged. Oliver, of course, had been only too d to agree, though, he''d ended up doing so hesitantly.


    How exactly was he meant to treat Verdant? Why exactly was the man so keen on assisting him? He''d spoken of Greatness, as though that exined away everything, and in the moment, it had seemed enough¡­ but now with the lengths he was going to in order to be of assistance, Oliver almost felt bad relying on him. After all, he wasn''t the only one who''d stayed up the whole night.


    Verdant had stood watch in the cold as well, without uttering a word ofint.


    Oliver wondered briefly if the man had any rtion to Lombard, with the stoney way he managed to keep his feelings hidden behind a calm face. Oliver pretended to be calm, he wore the act as a useful illusion, but Verdant actually was that thing. He seemed as immovable as a boulder, though with a much higher level of entress.n/o/vel/b//in dot c//om


    Considering the man made Oliver sigh again. There was much he needed to do. Far too much. The previous night had been a good opportunity to think it all through, but he didn''t feel any clearer on the exact path that he needed to take.


    The Games¡­ Amassing a force¡­ Getting the attention of a General so that they would teach him. He needed an instructor for the sword as well. He''d been banned from swordsmanship lessons, so that was a no-go. At the very least, he needed someone stronger than himself to spar with.


    He opened up the door to his room, puzzling through a n of actions, munching on a small stick of bread that Verdant had got him. Distracted as he was, the woman outside of his door very nearly became a wall, as he just barely managed to avoid crashing into her.


    He had to twist violently to get out of her way, but saving his bread was the harder feat. It fell from his mouth where he''d left it dangling, and he had to snatch it from the air in a moment of panic as it fell down past his knee, speeding towards the floor.


    "Ah, thank the Gods," he muttered to himself as he caught it. He''d still likely have eaten it even if it had hit the floor, but still.


    He straightened up, to see who the woman was that had been so close to blocking his doorway. There he saw a face that he''d much rather not have seen, especially sleep deprived as he was. He bit back a harsh line, and merely opted for a strained smile.

 Chapter 439 The Beginning of Something Powerful - Part 3

    "I don''t suppose that''s your room there, is it? Would be a hell of a coincidence¡­" He said, nodding to the door opposite his.


    "No," ckthorn said, with the same amount of emotion that she had shown yesterday, which was to say, none at all, aside from an overwhelming coldness. Between her, Verdant and Lombard, there was enough stoniness to construct a mountain range.


    "A friend then, I suppose?" Oliver said. It was a mere polite conversation that he was making, since she was right there, but there was a tension to his words, as he recalled their less-than-amiable sparring yesterday, and what had followed it. As he spoke, he made it clear that he was on his way to do something, and did not pause his walk.


    "No," she said again, and with it, she held out her arm to stop him.


    Oliver found himself squinting as he struggled to contain his annoyance. It was endurable, and he could have done it for much longer, but he had still spent the entire night outside, without a drop of sleep. His patience was not exactly at its highest point.


    "What, are you out for revenge for Heathw or something?" He said, there was an edge to his voice, and warning.


    She shook her head, her shining ck hair tossing as she did so. Something about the motion seemed sincere, and the edge was taken off Oliver''s irritation, and he reverted to exasperation instead, letting out a sigh.


    "You know, it would be a lot quicker if you just told me what you want," Oliver said, doing his best to speak kindly, as though he were speaking to a child, as though he could somehow coax the words out of her. "I''m on my way to ss. I''m going to bete at this rate."


    She cocked her head. "Why? Aren''t you tired? Everyone would understand if you stayed behind."


    Immediately she defied his assumption that she found speech difficult. It seemed more as though she was simply refusing to speak on that which she did not want to discuss.


    "No," Oliver lied, meeting her eye and feigning the same monotone answer that she''d given him. It was a mistake. He shouldn''t have tried to out-stubborn her. She saw no amusement in it. Her arm was still and the way, and she showed no intention of moving.


    He sighed again. "How did you even find me anyway?"


    No response, this time. Maybe he should have been thankful that he even got a ''no''.


    "Look¡­ I''m going to need to get going¡ª" Oliver began, only to be cut off, as the door opposite his opened, ttering heavily against the wall. Oliver''s neighbour, it seemed. It was the first time that he''d caught sight of him.


    The boy came to the door yawning, a leather satchel leaning against his shoulder, his hair a mess. He nced across the corridor noticing them, and his eyes shed open in startlement. Oliver raised an eyebrow at the reaction, whilst ckthorn red, as though warning him away.


    "G-good morning¡­" The boy said meekly, before turning and walking away, a little too meekly.


    "Hm¡­ Is it me he''s afraid of, or you?" Oliver asked. "I don''t think I''m particrly scary."


    "You are scary," ckthorn said. She said it so fiercely it was almost like a religious vow. It was hard to tell just what she was thinking. Her disy of emotions seemed unusual, at best.


    "Am I?" Oliver asked, disconcerted to hear that from the person that was standing in his way. "You didn''t seem that frightened sparring me yesterday."


    "With a sword, it''s different," she said. "Today, you are scarier," she said firmly, before allowing them to fall into a deep silence again. It was as though she''d mastered the art ofpletely killing a conversation. There was no indication of how Oliver might follow up that promation, nor any indication that she was going to get out of the way.n/o/vel/b//in dot c//om


    "Fine, fine, I''m scary," Oliver said, taking a step back into his room ¨C she still hadn''t allowed him to make it out of his door ¨C and making a pointed gesture. "Better now? Now scary is a step further away. Or better yet, you could let me go, and then I could be on the other side of the Academy."


    If only Verdant were here¡­ The priest would have been able to get rid of her far more easily than he. That thought startled him. He''d only been around the priest for a day, and already he was finding him more useful than a pair of shoes¡­ He wondered what it would take to secure Verdant''s service personally.


    As Oliver stood there, considering how to get rid of her, he saw two more women''s heads stick around the corner. They met his eyes, and startled just as clearly as his neighbour had, pulling back behind the stone wall.


    "Who were they?" Oliver asked.


    "My retainers," ckthorn said, without even looking around. He wondered whether she had remarkably good senses, or whether she had simply expected the two girls to appear there. Something about ckthorn''s eyes told him that it was likely the former. The brown of them was so dark that it was almost as ck as the pupil, but it was their focus that was strange.


    They were lined up with him, but it was as though they weren''t looking at him, nor were they really looking through him. It was as though they were striving to take everything in at once. "He''s already seen you," she said. "It''s embarrassing to keep hiding."


    "Yes¡­ Lady ckthorn¡­" A girl said meekly, reluctantly. She wandered out from behind the wall, dragging her feet, and pulling her friend by the hand along with her.


    "Let me go, Pauline!" Her friend hissed in rm. She looked at Oliver again, and as soon as their eyes met, she struggled even further. She looked quite ready to punch her friend in order to get free.


    "You''re embarrassing our Lady," the girl said, though she seemed no less terrified than her friend. Once they were quite free of the wall, she gave a stiff bow. Oliver noted the yellow vest that hung over her ck dress. "G-good day, Ser Patrick."

 Chapter 440 The Beginning of Something Powerful - Part 4

    If they were anywhere else, Oliver would have let his tongue slip. The line "what the hell is this?" demanded that he ask it, but with a great effort of will, he bit it back.


    "I didn''t know that we were allowed retainers¡­" he said instead. These retainers were clearly other students as well. If one was to have a retainer, he figured they''d have brought along a servant from home or something.


    ckthorn tilted her head in surprise at that. "Really? Mm¡­ Could it be, that you''re kind of stupid? It would make sense¡­ You did punch a professor yesterday."


    Oliver''s eyebrow twitched. Despite clearly being horrified by their Lady''s talk, her retainers seemed to share the same shocked sentiment, as though nothing could be more self-evident than the fact that a noble student would have retainers.


    "Is that something else I''m meant to know, then?" He murmured, half to himself. "I suppose when you''ve got the coin for it¡­"


    "Pardon, Ser Patrick, but we don''t serve our Lady ckthorn for money," Pauline said, rather fervent in her tone. "It''s our honour to serve a member of the ckthorn family, just as our parents serve her father."


    The other retainer, Amelia, nodded quickly at that. Oliver saw no deceit behind their expressions. He found that surprising.


    "So, she doesn''t pay you?"


    "Well, no, uhh¡­ She does, but we don''t do it for that. Plenty of nobles are looking for retainers with the offer of payment ¨C but it''s a much bigger deal than just a job. To be honest, Ser Patrick, I''m stunned that you don''t know this," Pauline said.


    "As am I," Lady ckthorn herself put in, as though he was the strange one, when she was still blocking his way with her outstretched arm.


    "Fine, consider me enlightened. Now, will you move? I''m really going to bete at this rate," Oliver said, letting a bit of irritation seep into his voice. It didn''t feel good to be moving on such minimal sleep.


    Pauline looked at her watch. "My Lady¡­ it really is gettingte. You should ask him now."


    ckthorn shot her a re, making it clear that herment was thoroughly unwee.


    "Oh? You came all this way to ask me something? What?" Oliver asked, his curiosity winning him over, if only for a moment. He was quite sure that he and Lasha ckthorn were on bad terms ¨C their meeting yesterday had been far from friendly after all. What question would onee all this way to ask of the enemy?


    "Will you¡­" Lady ckthorn began, spurred on by her retainers hurrying. "¡­Train me?"


    Oliver''s face fell in an instant, his smilepletely gone. "No," he said immediately, and was past her arm before he could even register the shock that sprang to her face at his immediate refusal.


    She turned on her heel, her surprise quickly fading into the aggressive expression that she had shown him in sparring yesterday. She jabbed a finger at him. "Why?"


    He shrugged. "It sounds like a pain. Besides, you don''t even like me, do you? You wore the same distaste yesterday when we sparred as everyone else did. Why would I go out of my way to help you, when I''ve got bigger problems?"


    She didn''t have a quick reply for that, and now that he''d already escaped past her outstretched arm, she had no means of making him stay, despite him refusing to meet her demands.


    He nodded to the two Serving ss girls, who seemed just as shocked as theirdy, and he turned on his heel to head to ss.


    "W-Wait just a minute, Ser Oliver!" Amelia ran in front of him. She''d hardly spoken to him earlier, content to let Pauline do most of the exining, but now she''d taken the initiative to stop him in his path.


    He''d pegged the blonde girl as shy, but he realized that likely wasn''t true. She was just awkward, and as afraid of him as everyone else.


    "What is it? Are you going to use force to restrain me now?" He didn''t bother to keep the edge out of his voice, fixing her with a simr re to what he had shot Gras yesterday. The girl visibly flinched, but she didn''t take a step back, not like the boys had.n/?/vel/b//in dot c//om


    "No¡­ Of course not," she spluttered, losing track of her intentions, as she searched for the right words. He was sure she would scramble away, just like the others had, but she bawled her hands into fists, oddly resolute for the strangest of reasons. "Don''t you think that, everyone res at you because they assume you''re like this¡­ Ser?"


    It was a rather harsh statement, but she still managed to get in a perfunctory ''ser''.


    "Like what?" Oliver asked.


    "Difficult to approach, scary¡­ And frankly, mean."


    "Mean?" Oliver asked, incredulous. "You''ve had one conversation with me, girl. You have no idea who I am. Which might I say, frankly, applies to the rest of this Academy."


    "So? We judge you based on what we''ve seen of you, and what we''ve heard of you. And now, seeing you, you seem mean!" Amelia said, unable to keep her voice from rising.


    Pauline rushed to her side, her face a ghastly shade of white. "Ameilia¡­ No matter what you think, you can''t raise your voice like that to a noble," she hissed, the urgency in her voice quite clear. She eyed Oliver out of the corner of her eye as though he was some vicious lion, with a guillotine aligned at her neck, ready to drop the second he gave themand.


    "That''s insane," Oliver said, absolutely bbergasted by Ameilia''s outburst. He''d spent the night enduring the Three Trials, and he''d spent the morning receiving shocked remarks that he''d even survived them. Verdant ¨C who seemed to believe him more capable than the rest ¨C was just as awed by the fact that he''d decided to continue going to ss as though nothing had happened.


    "Do you know where I spent the night? Why is it that you expect a saintly patience from me after a night like that, walking out of my room to find it barricaded?"

 Chapter 441 The Beginning of Something Powerful - Part 5

    "So? If you''re going to act tough, at least act tough the whole way through! Everyone''s saying the Three Trials didn''t bother you, ''cos that''s what you want them to think, isn''t it? Are you really going to drop that act now?" Ameilia said, not backing down, but not exactly retaining her cool either.


    She''d gotten so worked up that her cheeks had gone red, and a few strands of blonde hair stuck to the sheen on her forehead.


    "Ameilia, please¡­" Pauline begged, but the fiery little Serving ss girl ¨C she was at least a head shorter than Oliver ¨C wasn''t backing down.


    "Ameilia, that''s enough," ckthorn said quietly. "You''ll get yourself in trouble if you speak any longer. You''re right ¨C he is mean." She hung her headnguidly. It was so clear to Oliver that she was merely putting on an act, so painfully obvious, that it made him want to drive his head through a wall. He was incrediblyte by this point.


    "This is absolutely insane," Oliver said again. It was as though he''d walked into a sea of madness. This trio ¨C perhaps excluding Pauline ¨C hadpletely abandonedmon sense. Ameilia especially was so far out of line it was hard to even see the line anymore. But somehow, Oliver found he couldn''t entirely disagree with her.


    He''d spent the night reexamining himself, and his weaknesses. He knew them better than he had the previous day, and he knew that his position as an outcast couldn''t continue much longer. It had only been a handful of days, but it was enough to make his enemies ¨C or more like, the enemies of the Patrick name ¨Cfortable.


    Had he had a greater degree of connections, Heathw wouldn''t have been able to pin him down as much as he had. It would mean upsetting more people than merely the son of the rogue knight Dominus Patrick. Of course, that situation had devolved because of Oliver''s inability to keep his cool.


    But Oliver wasn''t confident he could keep his cool in future either. He hadn''t managed to address the heart of the problem. Put in the same situation, with Heathw, in his weakness, taunting him, Oliver was quite sure he would have driven him down again. The restrictions and sensibilities of noble society did not mesh with his more straightforward way of doing things.


    He simply couldn''t find it in himself to tolerate disrespect when it came. A challenge from another man, spoken so brazenly, a childish part of him always wanted to put him in its ce. And now he had lost the means of properly controlling that childish side.


    It had all the makings of the situation with Greeves all over again. With people mistaking istion for weakness. Even without that, there were his immediate goals of finding a General to teach him. He didn''t know what went into gathering a force either, but he assumed he would at least need some influence.


    "Fine," Oliver said quietly. "Your serving girl convinced me to at least hear you out. But make it quick. I''m going to have to run at this rate."


    "I''m not a serving girl, I''m a retainer," Ameilia corrected impetuously. Pauline waved her back again, chiding her for speaking that way to nobility. But in all honesty, Oliver found it refreshing. He''d quickly grown tired of people treading on eggshells around him, and speaking to him through euphemism, rather than voicing their true thoughts.n/?/vel/b//jn dot c//om


    Oliver shook his head as she pouted, thoroughly indicating that he didn''t care.


    "I think I should correct my friend, Ser Oliver¡­ I don''t think any other noble would have waved rudeness away so lightly. I''ll be sure to let her know that," Pauline said, humbling, giving him a thankful bow of his head. He shrugged, not caring ¨C he was a peasant, after all. The reverence they paid to his noble title was a mere illusion.


    "Hear me out?" ckthorn interrupted with a tilt of her head. "But I''ve already said what I asked for."


    Oliver felt his eyebrow twitch. "I would have thought you were at least offering something in exchange¡­" he said, fighting back his irritation once again.


    "You teach me, and then you get to be around me, is that not enough?" ckthorn said, as though it was as obvious as the sky above them. He could hardly believe the arrogance that so quickly asserted itself from her. She acted as though she had trouble speaking, or as though she didn''t like it, but when it came to insults, she spoke as clearly as anyone else.


    "Mydy¡­ you shouldn''t be trying to upset him again," Pauline said nervously. She seemed to be the only voice of reason.


    "I''m not trying to. I''m only speaking the truth," she said. "You get to keeppany with Lasha ckthorn. That will do wonders for your reputation, no?"


    "¡­" Oliver just stared at her, momentarily stupefied by the confidence. "So you''re saying, in exchange for me teaching you, you''ll pretend to be friends with me? Can you even get more insulting than that¡­"


    "It isn''t an insult, it''s true," Ameilia chipped in again. "Your reputation is terrible. Having my Lady near you would be a good thing, wouldn''t it?"


    He narrowed his eyes at both of them. He''d thought that they were ying a different game. But they seemed to recognize the position that he was in just as well as he did. Even as an illusion, they realized the value keeping thepany of another noble would have for him.


    ''Damn it, master, what kind of title did you saddle me with?'' Oliver asked in his head. For the Patrick name to be so sullied that bargaining forrades seemed to be something of a necessity. It was an insane position to be in.


    He sighed, relenting. "I''mte," he said. "Congrattions, you three. You''vepletely drained my energy. I don''t know what kind of vampires you work for, but they''ve surely trained you well¡­ Lady ckthorn, I will consider your request. If you find me, at lunchtime, with sparring swords for the both of us, then I will see if it''s possible to train you.


    I will not make any promises until I can be sure I can make you stronger."


    "That''s fine," ckthorn said, a certain fire and assuredness in her voice. It seemed to speak of her supreme confidence that if there was a path to getting stronger, then no matter what, she would be able to take it.

 Chapter 442 The Beginning of Something Powerful - Part 6

    He wished that he''d shared the same thing. There were more than a few elements of his training that he wasn''t sure how to improve more than his current state.


    He nodded to them, satisfied that the deal had concluded, and then proceeded to jog to his next lesson.


    ¡­


    ¡­


    The Medical Professor was not pleased to see him again so soon. Thest trickle of students had just arrived by the time he got in, and the girls turned their heads in surprise at his arrival. He saw more than one of them blush, as he met their eyes. An odd reaction, but a reaction that he ignored.


    "You should be resting," the man said gruffly.


    "I have already missed three years of education, professor. I don''t think I can''t afford to skip any more," Oliver said, doing his best to appear humble.


    The man grunted. "The wounds on your back?"


    "Bandaged, and they''ve stopped bleeding. I expect they will be fine soon enough," Oliver said.


    "Unlikely, with the way that you''ve been pushing yourself," the professor said. "Sit. It''s time to begin."


    ss that day was not another lecture, as Oliver had expected. Instead, the professor led them to the Green Castle, where he was surprised to find a rather active hospital. There were several wards in it, with everything from the goriest of injuries, to patients that seemed as though they were perfectly fine.


    Oliver guessed from the chatter of the girls as they walked that it was not umon for them to visit the hospital, and get the practical experience that they required. Apparently, the Academy''s hospital was rather famed for its excellence. Some people had even travelled a great distance just for a simple consultation there.


    The professor set them to work stitching minor wounds on a recently ambushed squadron of soldiers. The girls'' fingers moved deftly, and their stitches were neat. It was clear that they''d done this sort of work before. The soldiers made amiable conversation as they worked, hiding flirtatious remarks behind the stiff and ceremonial respect the Serving ss were meant to show to nobility.


    The professor hadn''t trusted Oliver with a needle and thread yet. Instead, he paired him with a girl, and tasked her with exining what she was doing as she worked. She went about the duty with grim determination, as though she was digging a grave. She didn''t smile at him even once.n/?/vel/b//jn dot c//om


    "You don''t want to pinch the skin too tightly, or it will heal in a rigid scar," she said seriously, as she went about her work. The soldier grinned at her. They had him on a light anaesthetic, and the man was clearly enjoying himself. "Do you want to do the next few?" She asked. It seemed a pleasant enough request, but her voice was stiff and rigid.


    She''d already stitched the majority of a thigh wound, and there were only a few stitches left to do.


    "Sure," he said, reaching for the needle that she was holding. She pulled it away from him as he reached.


    "''Sure'' isn''t cutting it. If you make a mess, you''ll cause the patient unnecessary pain. Only do it if you think you can do a respectable job at it," she said. The professor overheard their conversation as he passed, and he nodded his approval.


    Oliver found he couldn''t condemn her attitude either. Her seriousness had him half hoping that it was out of mere respect for the profession, rather than a particr loathing towards having to teach him.


    "As you say, I''ll do a careful job at it," Oliver said. He hadn''t stitched anything before, but he figured at the very least he could give it his best effort. The girl still didn''t seem satisfied by that, but she gave him the needle with a begrudging expression.


    Oliver started his stitches, finding himself ncing at the soldier as the needle made its first entry. The man hardly noticed it had happened. Whatever they''d given him, it was more than enough to get himfortable. The man actually grinned as Oliver met his gaze. Oliver found himself grinning back.


    A p on the back of his head brought his attention back to his task. "Don''t be an idiot. Stitch him," the girl said. She sounded harsh, but if anything, he was relieved to hear the slightest bit of emotion in her voice.


    He delivered two stitches, before she sighed and took the needle from him. "Your stitches are looping. You need to be neater," she chided. The professor happened to pass as she said that.


    "You let him have a go?" He asked. The girl nodded, and pointed to Oliver''s section. The professor grunted, almost smiling. "Well, I''ll be damned¡­ To see the son of Dominus working his hand at stitching¡­"


    He made noment on their quality, and simply walked away.


    "The professor likes you," the girl said, unable to hide her jealousy. "And he doesn''t like anyone. How did you manage it?"


    "A winning smile and natural charm?" Oliver said with his best smile, wondering if he could elicit one from the girl in return. She gave him a disgusted look in reply, and went back to finishing the stitching.


    ¡­


    ¡­


    His next lecture was in archery. Another outdoor event, despite the cold. Naturally, as Oliver chose his seven sses, he''d heavily leaned towards the morebat-oriented of them. Amongst swordsmanship ¨C which he''d now been banned from, and needed to rece with something else ¨C he''d chosen archery, universal closebat training, and physical enhancement.


    After his time with Heathw, he wasn''t expecting much out of either of them.


    A stern tall woman lectured at the front of the ss, a bow slung over her shoulder. In her ck-boiled leather, she looked like a panther had taken human form. The way she walked, with each foot ced down carefully, the epitome of bnce, it was clear that she was a hunter of some sort.


    ''N would have liked her,'' Oliver thought as she spoke. He''d been given a training bow, and a quiver with some arrows.

 Chapter 443 The Beginning of Something Powerful - Part 7

    There were several targets set down a range, varying distances away. Another few targets hung from ropes under trees, again at varying distances. He even saw hoofprints in the sandy soil where the snow had yet to reach ¨C evidence that this range had been used on horseback as well.


    The woman lectured about things the other students understood. Oliver felt his tiredness creeping up on him as he tried to listen, stifling a yawn. This ss was more bnced than any of his other sses, with roughly half the students being male, and the other half being female. They were all dressed in tight-fitting clothing and high boots, just as the teacher was.


    Oliver couldn''t help feeling out of ce in his normal attire.


    He recalled the mention of a student shopping district, where students sold varying products, based on the expertise that they''d gathered in sses. He reminded himself to go and check it out, as soon as he was able. Lombard had given him a weighty pouch of coin, after all. It wouldn''t hurt to have a recement of clothes.


    By the time he''d returned his attention back to the lesson, the students were already moving off down different ranges, to practise their bowmen ship. There were fewer students in this ss than in the swordsmanship ss. Around a hundred in total, so there were more than enough ranges for them to take their pick on. They seemed to choose based on some predecided order that he was not aware of.


    "Patrick," the professor called out to him in her stern voice, as she strode over. He looked up at her. She was even taller up close than she had been lecturing. His head barely made it up to her shoulders. "What is your skill with the bow?" She asked.


    He was relieved to hear that she was outright hostile. After his confrontation with Heathw, he realized he''d been on edge, expecting a simr level of hostility from the other professors that he had yet to meet.


    "I''m¡­ basically untrained, professor. I shot a bow a few times as a child, but I never properly trained it as I should have," Oliver said.


    The woman tutted in what sounded like disappointment. "A shame. Though, your interest in learning other weaponry ismendable. I''ve heard that your father refused to attend any sses unrted to the sword."


    Oliver''s eyebrow twitched. He''d heard Dominus'' name spoken all too often in a negative light. This was one of the first time that he''d heard a solid reason why. "Ah¡­ well¡­ I think he grew to realize the importance of learning different weapons,ter in his life. I remember him telling me that it would improve my perspective, and help me grow with the sword."N?v(el)B\\jnn


    "Hm¡­" She looked at him studiously, like a cat eyeing a mouse. "Your father is correct in that. But I would not have you treating the bow as a mere side option. You will give it the respect it deserves if you wish to learn it properly. The bow eclipses the sword in the right hands."


    "I''ve seen what it can do, when wielded well," Oliver admitted. "That is what sparked my interest in it."


    "Hoh? Who showed you?" The woman asked, clearly expecting a noble title, some grand warrior that kept thepany of the famed Dominus Patrick. Oliver had no name for her other than N.


    "A¡­ girl that I grew up with," he said.


    The professor sniffed at that. "Then you have not seen anything. Many view the bow as a feminine weapon ¨C though it has the potential for brutishness as well, if that is what you seek. A war bow in strong hands can punch through steel tes like paper. A master bowmaker could increase the draw strength of your weapon to suit you, as you got stronger.


    There''s an advantage it has over the sword ¨C the weapon grows with you."


    She was trying to sell him on the weapon, Oliver realized. But the truth was, he was already sold. He wanted to see what it took to achieve what N had achieved, though he hardly dared to believe it was possible. What N did with a bow seemed like a miracle. It seemed like something that you had to be born with.


    "You''re strong, we could get you on the heavier bows already, if that''s what you''re looking for," she said. Oliver noted that she simply assumed his strength, without having tested it. His reputation preceded him.


    "I worry for my uracy, more than anything else, professor," Oliver said.


    "Two at once," she said, before turning to her assistant, "Lauren, fetch him one of the heavier bows. Let''s see¡­ second from top?"


    "Yes, mistress!" The energetic youth saluted, then sprinted across the snowy sand to fetch one of therger bows from the rack. It was darker than the one he was currently holding, the wood a menacing colour. He noticed that on the rack next to it was one that was nearly a pure ck.


    Oliver''s initial training bow was reced with the darker brown one before he could even think to protest. He gripped it. It was an absolute monstrositypared to the one that N used. It almost eclipsed Oliver in size.


    "Test the draw," the professor said impatiently. Oliver was unused to the archery terms, but he drew the string back like was told to. "No, set your shoulders back, fall into your stance and pull it across your body, with the muscles in your back¡­ There you go, that''s full draw, how does it feel?"


    "Fine?" Oliver said, a little hesitantly, as he held the bowstring by his cheek. The professor shared a smile with her assistant, as Lauren watched with bulging eyes.


    "I think I''m going to have fun training you, young master Patrick," she said, "I really do."


    Oliver wasn''t sure exactly what she was so pleased with. He knew the bow was meant to be heavy, but he didn''t know quite how heavy. He wasn''t aware that no other student in the ss coulde even halfway close to pulling it. It was a bow reserved exclusively for those of the Second Boundary and above.

 Chapter 444 The Beginning of Something Powerful - Part 8

    "I appreciate your guidance," Oliver said humbly, dipping his head. He genuinely was pleased. He''de to the Academy looking for ways to get stronger. To have the interest of the professor to the degree that she was teaching him one on one, it was more than he could have asked for.


    "Lauren, you watch over the others for today. I''m going to keep an eye over Patrick here, and see what to do with him," she said.


    "Yes, mistress!" The girl said, just as enthusiastically as before.


    "Students, allow us the end range, if you would," the professor said, walking over to one of the shorter static ranges. Oliver trailed after her like a lost duckling, noting the incredulous expressions of the students as he hefted his dark brown bow.


    "As you wish, Professor Yoreholder," anky youth said, with a sweeping bow that tossed his silky hair to the side. A handsome youth, for sure, and one that Oliver had met one too many times already. Mills Gargon. "Ah, Oliver Patrick. It seems that we share more than one lesson," he said.


    Oliver was expecting more of a jab than that, and he waited for it, but Gargon was quite content to leave things there. He wandered over to the next target along the range, with his group of three trailing after him.n/?/vel/b//in dot c//om


    "Sorry, professor, did he call you Yoreholder?" Oliver asked, as they settled into the range.


    The professor looked at him oddly, as though surprised by the question. "He did, why?" Find your next adventure on empire


    "Yesterday I met the Minister of des, Gavlin Yoreholder¡­ I was just wondering..?"


    "Oh, right ¨C you did, didn''t you? Well, obviously," the woman said, nodding to herself. "Yes, indeed. That dry block of steel that you met is my husband. He spoke favourably of you, in case you were curious."


    "I was, a little," Oliver admitted. "If not for the assistance of him and the Minister of Logic, then I likely would have been expelled¡­"


    "Hod spoke for you?" professor Yoreholder asked, surprised. "Interesting¡­" She said, beforepsing into silence. She snapped out of it. "Well, let''s get started then. Show me what you can do. I won''t interrupt.


    Aim for the centre, and we''ll see what we have to work with."


    The target was made of coiled rope, glued together, and then painted in different coloured concentric rings. The bullseye was painted a bright red, begging to be struck. It was not too far away either ¨C a mere fifty feet. He''d seen N put an arrow through the eye of a crow at two hundred, and the bullseye on this target was considerably bigger than an eye ¨C it was closer to the size of a fist.


    He drew his arrow, and notched it, pulling his string back against his cheek, and he redid the same stance that the professor had instructed him to get into earlier. He squinted one eye closed, as he aimed for the target, and then he loosed.


    The arrow sprung with a ferocity that caught him off guard. The string twanged against his cheek, causing an immediate stinging pain. The arrow went hurtling with far more force than he had expected, burying itself a third of the way into the rope target, andnding with a thud as loud as a fist on a door.


    The group next to his was watching. From their gaping expressions ¨C even Gargon ¨C they too were surprised by the strength of the bow. But they quickly readopted their air of indifference, and went back to their own practice.


    "Well, that is a good distance from the bullseye," Professor Yoreholder remarked. Oliver had been so distracted by the bow''s power, and his cheek, that he''d almost forgotten to check. His aim had been a good bit off. He barely managed to ze the outermost ring, almost missing the targetpletely, despite its size. "And yet, that would have put a hole in a man."


    "I''m going to need a good bit of work," Oliver realized. This was a mere fifty yards, and already he was struggling. Maybeparing himself to the phenom that was N wasn''t such a good idea.


    "You could be satisfied with that, if you merely wantedbat efficacy," the professor said. "As I said, if you got a proper arrow on it, that would take out a ted enemy."


    "But against a Yarmdon shield, even that won''t do much," Oliver said. The professor nced at him oddly at that remark, before nodding, as though reminding herself of something.


    "That is true. Greater precision will always be of greater benefit to you. As you say, you have much work to be done on it, but given the strength that you already have, your potential in it is rather¡­ monstrous, I suppose. Well, try another shot. I won''t offer you any advice on this one either. Let us see what you are capable of yourself."


    Oliver nodded, drawing in a breath, and pausing before thinking of drawing the bow. He couldn''t helpparing it to the sword as he felt it. He couldn''t help wanting to apply those old systems of sess to this new thing that he was attempting. In the same way that he''d learned new things with the sword, he wondered how he might do the same with the bow.


    With the sword, he''d tried different styles, and in mastering three that were different and separate from each other, he''d been able to merge them to create his Poison Water Style, that even his master had acknowledged. How could he do that with a bow? He had no real solid experience to draw from with the weapon.


    He only had N, and his observations of her. The way she''d silently stepped through the forest like a red fox, sly, and aware, seeming to see things without even looking at them ¨C how was it that she could pick a bird out in a tree so far away? When she drew her bow, she did not take the time to line up the shot. Before she''d even pulled the string back, she''d already had her aim lined up.

 Chapter 445 The Beginning of Something Powerful - Part 9

    There was a swiftness, and fluidity to that that he could recognize. It was awkward with the bow in his face, trying to line it up where it should be. He notched the arrow in the string, and made sure that it aligned with the target, as best he could, though it was hard to tell. He wondered if he justcked the eyes for the thing ¨C perception had ever been his greatest weakness.


    He did not allow those doubts to distract him for long. Satisfied that he had lined it up as well as he could, he drew the string back, not quickly, but steadily. He did it with as much grace as he could muster, so that he did not change the aim of his prepositioned arrow. This time he took care to pull his cheek away from the string, and then he shot.


    The same rush of air, as the arrow exploded from the bowstring, the same terrible thud, like a giant demanding to be let inside. The professor was not the only one watching. Gargon stealthily looked over, after cing his own shot, securing the centre of the bullseye.


    He ignored the excited exmations of the two girls in his group, and instead narrowed his eyes in irritation, when he saw where Oliver''s hadnded.n/o/vel/b//in dot c//om


    It was not the centre of the bullseye ¨C far from it, it was just barely on the edge. But it was touching red, and that was what mattered.


    The professor gave him an appraising look. "You''re more thoughtful than I''d heard your father to be," she said. "Your instincts are right for it. I saw you attempt to pick your shot before you pulled your string ¨C that''s a technique that will serve you well, should you master it. It''s the only proper way to fire as you move. Discover hidden content at empire


    Had you not been so afraid of clipping your cheek again, you wouldn''t have sent it astray."


    She prodded with a merciless finger where the string had left a mark, letting out a loudugh at hisint.


    "Ow," Oliver said, though he was smiling too.


    ¡­


    ¡­


    "Ow¡­" Oliver said, as someone prodded the mark on his cheek for a second time.


    "A bowstring, then?" Verdant asked, as he joined Oliver in the lunch queue.


    "Good guess¡­ What are you doing here? I thought the staff had their own meal times," Oliver said.


    Verdant merely smiled at that. "My duties here are few, and my time is flexible. You''re one of the few interesting things here, Young Wolf. It''s a given that I would make time for that."


    The two of them collected their trays from the cooks. Oliver gave them a nod. The cooks served him with enthusiasm every time he went for a meal. They seemed excited to see someone take an interest in the food that they were serving.


    The other nobles seemed to take the food quality for granted, but to Oliver ¨C for whom unspiced meat in the mountains had been the norm for so long ¨C they were immensely rewarding. Better even that the food he''d had at Lombard''s mansion.


    Today was some sort of pastry dish, that the cook had informed he had salted beef inside. The cook was beginning to learn that beef was a favourite of Oliver''s. It had been a rarity in his pallet in Solgrim. Something he''d have to buy, for there was no chance of hunting it.


    That beef pastry, and a cake with a strawberry on top of it, it was more than enough to melt his heart from the grievances of thest couple of days, and make him once again appreciate the position he was in. In a rare moment of feeling, he extended his thanks to Verdant.


    "Thank you, by the way," he said. "For your assistance yesterday. I imagine the Trials would have been considerably more ufortable without you there."


    The priest smiled at that. "And I had thought that my presence might have bothered you. You seemed to be quite content in your ownpany there for a while."


    Oliver merely shrugged. "It was pleasant to train freely like that, for the first time in a while. But I''ve been giving thought to what you said. About gathering a Force. I don''t know quite how I need to go about doing that, but I think I should start doing it soon, to help thaw this attitude everyone has to the name Patrick."


    "I think that is a wise course, Young Wolf," Verdant agreed. "I would be happy to assist you with it¡­ Ah, it''s those boys again¡­" He said, noting the yellow shirts that he''d seen waiting behind yesterday, after most of the others had already left.


    "Who?" Oliver turned to where Verdant had nodded. "Oh, Kaya," he said, recognizing the messy curly hair of the boy on the bench to their left. The youth spun around upon hearing his name, gravy still around his mouth.


    "Who¡ªSer Patrick!" He gasped. "You''re up already? We saw the Trial¡­ It looked bad¡­ Are you sure you''re meant to be walking about?"


    Oliver just shrugged. "I didn''t want to miss any lectures. I''ve only been here a couple of days, after all." He noticed Jorah sitting on the opposite side of the table, and Karesh next to him. "I heard you both came to watch the Trial."


    The blonde boy looked ufortable at that. "It seemed disrespectful to stay and wait, I told the others, but Karesh and Kaya insisted on it¡­ at least until the others had left."


    Karesh nodded deeply from Jorah''s right. The boy was so big Oliver wondered how he could have missed him. "Ser Patrick," the clumsy youth said, shaking his head. For some reason he looked close to crying. "That was¡­ That was¡­ Big."


    Hisck of vocabry didn''t do much to drive his point home, but the tears he wiped away on his sleeve did.


    Jorah looked ufortable. "As I said, we didn''t mean any disrespect."


    "I did not recognize anything but respect from your group," Verdant affirmed. "Honourable of you ¨C to encourage arade that is suffering."


    "Indeed. I didn''t realize you were there. My Master always pointed out that myck of awareness was my weakness, but thank you for your show of support regardless," Oliver said.

 Chapter 446 The Beginning of Something Powerful - Part 10

    Jorah shifted ufortably. It hadn''t exactly been their intention in staying out there for as long as they had¡­ It was Karesh''s fault, really. They''d heard the rumours, just as well as anyone else, about the boy, Oliver Patrick, striking a professor.


    No one liked Heathw. No one except those he favoured. He was particrly harsh with the Serving ss boys ¨C those that had the misfortune of being taught by him ¨C and so there was nock of cheers when they found out that someone had finally gotten back at him.


    Better still, Heathw had actually been removed from his post. It was cause for celebration. The name Oliver Patrick had been tossed around in regard to that event, and for most of the other students, it was a name that they could not attach a face to, nor a personality.


    For Jorah and Kaya, though, it had been a different story.


    Kaya had insisted that they go, just to see. He''d been fascinated by the boy ever since he stopped them in the hallway. He''d insisted that there was something interesting about the noble. He didn''t have the same look in the eye as the rest.


    Oh, there were many pleasant nobles, not all of them were bastards, but they still could not disguise the inherent belief that all of them had: that nobles were better than the Serving ss, in every way that mattered.


    Karesh had been won over as well, merely by Oliver''sment that he would have made a good shieldbreaker. He''d been going on about it ever since.


    "He said I''d make a good shieldbreaker! Him! After what they said he did to the Yarmdon, he sees a soldier in me. Isn''t that something?" Was Karesh''s most favoured line.


    "I thought you didn''t believe in that. You were agreeing with everyone else just a couple of days ago, that it wasn''t possible," Jorah had pointed out.


    "Yeah, but now that I''ve met him, it''s obvious, isn''t it?" Karesh was always quick to fire back. "Kaya, you think so too, don''t you?"


    Kaya had readily agreed. "There''s something about him, for sure. He''s got that scar on his cheek¡­ It''s got to have been from a sword. He''s younger than us as well. Just the way he walks, it''s obvious that he''s strong¡­ He''s got that weird, what do you call it?"


    "Light footedness?" Jorah had corrected wearily, tiring of the conversation.


    "Yeah, that!" Kaya had readily agreed.


    Despite their enthusiasm, Jorah was quick to warn them, again and again, about their casual treatment of nobles. Any noble. The two of them had already made a few potentially fatal mistakes around Oliver. From Kaya''s inability to speak with the proper amount of respect, to Karesh nearly falling on top of him, the two cousins were absolute nightmares to watch out for.


    And then, after the Three Trials, it seemed that the other students wereing to the same conclusions that they were. The scarred back. The unflinching way he took a whip. How he didn''t even shiver when he pulled himself out of the cold.


    Those things excited Kaya and Karesh. Even though Oliver was a year or two younger than the both of them, they talked of him with admiration in their voices now.


    Jorah couldn''t carry himself the same way. Like all nobility, he could not help but be wary. Oliver''s obviouspetence did nothing to assuage that worry of his, in fact, it only made him warier.


    "Did it really not hurt?" Kaya asked, interrupting Jorah from his revelry.


    Discover exclusive tales on empire


    Again, Jorah was forced to correct him. "Use the proper titles, Kaya."


    "Ser," Kaya corrected himself meekly. Jorah thought he saw him blush, but it was hard to tell with the round-faced boy. Even in the winter, Kaya constantly overheated. Even when it was freezing and snowing outside, he would be sweating.


    "Mm, no, it definitely hurt," Oliver assured him with an easy smile. "I can tell you I definitely don''t want to go through it again, any time soon."


    "But you''re up and about already, Ser. Most were sure you wouldn''t make it through the night, but you''re out already again,e lunchtime," Karesh said.


    "He''s been at lectures all morning," Verdant corrected, the priest saddling them with his piercing blue gaze. Jorah had to wonder why the priest seemed proud of that fact.


    His announcement of that fact had the intended effect on Kaya and Karesh, as their eyes widened in further awe. "Really!? So it was nothing for you then, after all?" Kaya said excitedly, before remembering his manners. "Ser." He added.n/?/vel/b//jn dot c//om


    "It definitely wasn''t nothing," Oliver assured him again. Jorah wondered just how much patiencey behind that smile. He figured it likely wouldn''t be much. Oliver must have caught him looking, for he nced over at him. Jorah looked away, ufortable.


    "Can''t you see him holding his tray, you two?" Jorah said with a sigh. "They''re both waiting to eat. Don''t hold them up with your questions."


    "Ah¡­ Sorry," Kaya said meekly, bowing his head. "We''d better hurry on as well, otherwise they''ll put us onst lunch for the rest of the week."


    "Thanks for hitting Heathw, Ser!" Karesh said, a little too loudly, as they walked away. Jorah had to punch him in the arm for that one. Several other yellow-shirted students were staring at them now. He honestly wondered why he still kept thepany of this particrly bothersome family.


    "Acquaintances?" Verdant asked, as the two of them sat down at the table for nobles. Oliver noted the odd nces that were being sent his way, as he saddled the bench next to the priest. Or was it because of his loud conversation with the Serving ss? It was hard for him to tell at this point. Everything seemed to be a stepping over of the line.


    He always seemed to be breaking rules that everyone else saw as obvious.


    "Yeah, something like that," Oliver said, digging into his food. "They seem to be pretty honest boys. It''s rxing to have that,pared to the stifling air of nobility."

 Chapter 447 The Beginning of Something Powerful - Part 11

    "You really are not fond of the noble folk," Verdant noted, as he went about eating his own meal, with a considerable degree more delicacy than Oliver.


    There was a tter of tes, as another tray was thrust down next to them.


    "Mydy, we''ll make sure to sit right behind you, so just let us know the moment he does anything suspicious," Ameilia said.


    "Amelia!" Pauline chided. "You really must stop saying that will get you on Ser Oliver''s bad side."


    Oliver looked over his shoulder, surprised to feel his energy drop as he saw the same two faces from this morning again. They were pretty faces, it should be said. Amelia with her pale blonde hair, and her skinny fairy-like figure, whilst Pauline had a rounder face, with a kind expression, and short cut brown hair to go with it, hair that seemed to sit just as gently as she.


    Pauline dipped her head when their eyes met, a faint blush on her cheeks. No doubt she was embarrassed to have her fellow retainer behaving so impetuously. Amelia, on the other hand, stood bolt upright by way of protest, pointedly putting her hands on her hips as she refused to bow. A troublesome girl, for certain.


    "It is customary to bow when you catch the attention of nobility," Verdant said, his voice tinged with the sort of authority that only nobles ustomed to having people obey them would have. Immediately Amelia bent at the waist, with an urgency that suggested it was more instinct than conscious action.


    Verdant didn''t press them any further. He had the sense to guess what was going on, despite having no other details than their current interaction to go on.


    "Lady ckthorn," he said, dipping his head, as though she were above him. Oliver noted that gesture. He''d have to ask the priest about that. Why was he bowing his head to her, when they were both nobility? Her father wasn''t a Lord, was he? Oliver didn''t think so.n/?/vel/b//jn dot c//om


    He was certain Amelia would have brought that up by now if she was.


    ckthorn returned the nod with all the dignity expected of nobility. She sat to Oliver''s left, the space between them more than enough to fill a whole person in. Oliver sighed at the petty gesture. She was fulfilling their agreement, whilst making it clear that she would rather not be near him.


    ''But it was your idea in the first ce¡­'' Oliver thought to himself, that tiredness once again wing at his head, joining the cacophony of other pain that dwelled there so constantly as ofte. ''Why did I even agree to this?''


    His mind shed back to how obstinately the girls had forced the agreement on him. ''Ah¡­ right.''


    "No greeting for me?" Oliver asked, jabbing at what was left of his pie. He shovelled it into his mouth with less grace than one would expect of nobility. Perhaps the presence of the ephemeral beauty that was Lady ckthorn should have been enough to refine those manners of his, but he found the opposite was urring.


    The little bit of attention that he usually devoted to his manners ¨C in an effort to seem more noble ¨C was cast aside, as he found he didn''t care at all what this woman thought of him.


    She ignored him, as was her way. He nced at her te, not bothering to hide the fact that he was looking. Part of him was curious about what noble women ate. He noticed that the portion sizes were half of his, and the te was considerably more colourful, with far more vegetables. But that did not stop her from having a generous portion of cake, a cake topped with the same strawberry as his own.


    "I found out this morning, Verdant," Oliver began, as he continued watching ckthorn eat, "that nobles were allowed retainers." He spoke so that ckthorn could hear him just as clearly, for the question was equally as directed toward her as it was Verdant.


    "That is the case," Verdant agreed. "Again, I am surprised that this was not knowledge that you already had, Young Wolf. Troubled, even. Your worldview differs to my own in ways that I don''t fully grasp. That troubles me."


    ckthorn looked up, evidently interested in the conversation. Oliver saw agreement in her eyes, but she did not speak it. Was it because Verdant was there? He wondered why. The priest did have a rather intimidating aura to him¡­ and ckthorn didn''t speak much anyway. He could understand being put off by his presence.


    "Is it not against the rules or anything for you to be showing deference to a specific pupil, Verdant?" Oliver asked. As a member of staff, he''d expect the priest to have been somewhat more impartial¡­ But the man had directly said more than once that it was Oliver that he was interested in.


    "There are duties expected of me. As long as I carry them out, I do expect anyone wouldin," Verdant said. "Many staff memberse to the Academy ¨C after their graduation ¨C for reasons the same as my own. They seek connections, opportunities, ways forward in their lives, having not decided on it yet.


    The role of a staff member at the Academy serves that period of ''unknowingness'' at the start of an adult''s life quite well. It allows you to do something productive, whilst also leaving your options open."


    "Heh¡­" Oliver said, only half listening. "So anyway, I was wondering, what exactly does it mean to be a retainer?"


    He saw Amelia and Pauline''s ears perk up from behind them. There was a good metre between themselves and theirdy, but with the way Oliver was sitting, they could hear every word, if he wanted them to.


    "Well, I suppose it would depend on the noble houses involved. Many have distinct traditions that are separate from the norm. Some swear an oath of loyalty before a God of their choosing in the shrine of the noble''s home, and others sign a contract, of the sort that a merchant might use, it depends," Verdant said, still delicately chipping through his food.

 Chapter 448 The Beginning of Something Powerful - Part 12

    "A contract? Like a merchant?" Amelia called over from the table behind, horrified. Even though Verdant had been speaking softly, she''d heard every word.


    "Amelia!" Pauline cried in horror. The round-faced girl was clutching her head with one hand, and grabbing at Amelia with the other, as she shrank down upon the bench, seeming as though she wished to hide under the table.


    "Indeed. Some nobles need more than oaths to assure them of a subject''s loyalty," Verdant said. He''d quickly caught onto Amelia''s personality, and did not push the issue any further than it needed to go, pointedly ignoring her outburst with an aura of distinct disapproval.


    Oliver gave a sigh of relief as he finished his pie. It was incredibly good. Every single day, this world of magnificent food. The chiefs were veritable artists by his estimation. Every meal was something he looked forward to, and never had they once disappointed him.


    It felt so much better to have a stomach full of food. He''d missed out on a proper breakfast, and a full meal the previous evening. Now was his attempt to restore that equilibrium. The pie did an awfully good job at that. With its warm weight in its stomach, he felt considerably more rxed than he had on his way in.


    "So, Verdant," Oliver began, off the back of that pleasant wave of food-filled bliss, as he pushed his empty te out of the way, and pulled his cake towards him, "do you want to be my retainer?"


    He felt ckthorn stiffen more than he saw it. It was an actual jerk of a motion, like a horse kicking. He doubted that any of the nobles near them had heard what he''d asked, but they''d certainly noticed ckthorn''s incredulous reaction, for they were looking over in their direction.


    Simrly, Amelia and Pauline were both looking horrified.


    Verdant, for his part ¨C despite being the one to whom the question was posed ¨C managed to remain far more calm than the rest. He merely raised an eyebrow. He didn''t appear offended. Oliver was pleased for that, at least. But from the reactions of the others, it was clear that he''d made quite a profound social blunder.


    "Typically," Verdant said, "it is members of the Serving ss that one takes on as retainers. Those that have noble retainers¡­ Well, there''s the King, then there are Lords¡­ And then there are nobles of particrly high standing, who match Lord''s in power, but not in title, they might be able to receive a noble''s official loyalty, in the name of a retainership¡­"


    "Ohh...?" Somehow, the taste of the cake was considerably bitter. It was less a blunder and more a social suicide attempt, from how Verdant was making it sound. Any request that first brought to mind the King was likely a request too far above his station. No one disputed what Verdant said. In fact, they were nodding along with it.


    Oliver wished he hadn''t asked, but Verdant, mercilessly, continued to exin.


    "The dynamics of the noble houses, Oliver, are dependent on power, after all. The Patrick house, as it is now, I can confidently say it has the least power in the whole Kingdom. Why, might you ask, is that the case? Despite your prestigious history with your Father, and despite your current wardship to Lord ckwell, the Patrick house has no physical assets.


    None but you, Oliver, in the whole Kingdom, bear the Patrick name. The estates of your family no longer exist. The King burned them down years ago," Verdant said.


    "I get it, I get it," Oliver said, having the grace to grow embarrassed as Verdantid it all out for him. "I understand now, so you don''t have to keep going."


    But Verdant continued, irrespective of Oliver''s protests. Despite the embarrassment of it, Oliver knew these were things that he would eventually need to learn¡­ He just wished he wasn''t being told them off the back of a ridiculous offer that he''d made.


    "Usually, if a noble were to swear retainership ¨C which in itself is a rare circumstance, done for life, like a marriage ¨C then it would be to a house of higher power than his own. For instance, Lady ckthorn''s house ¨C a very wealthy house, with considerable political influence, bordering on that of a Lord ¨C would be an appropriate house for you, as a Patrick, to swear your loyalty to.


    My house ¨C the Idris house ¨C is middling in terms of noble families. Our influence in both politics and economics is moderate. I cannot think of what my father would say if I were to pledge my loyalty to a house that in all ways but name was effectively destroyed years ago. I imagine he would disown me all over again," Verdant said.


    "That bad, huh?" Oliver grimaced, as he munched through his cake. He was pretty sure he could see the faint traces of a smile on ckthorn''s small mouth, though she hid it well. Apparently, she enjoyed seeing him get lectured.


    "That said, I ept."


    There was a loud tter, as a te slid to the floor.


    ckthorn''s cup slipped from her grasp, and spilt out over the table, whilst Amelia''s cry of dismay from behind them rang out.


    "WHAAAAAAAT!?" She shouted.


    Both Oliver and Verdant calmly turned to look at her. She was the one who had dropped the te. It was empty ¨C lucky for her. She''d been half stood up at the time, about to return it. Pauline''s eyes were round with shock. It took her a few seconds to note the many gazes that were being sent their way, and many filled with disapproval amongst them.n/o/vel/b//in dot c//om


    Oliver heard some of the nobles nearest them tut, as they regarded the two Serving ss girls. During it all, the tiny bit of liquid that ckthorn had managed to spill on the table wentrgely unnoticed, apart from Oliver, Verdant and a pair of girls dining to the next of ckthorn who hurried to mop it up for her.


    He noticed their speed, and wondered if it was because of the ckthorn rank amongst nobility, as Verdant had just described. Whilst all the others had descended into their shock, Oliver and Verdant calmly finished the rest of their food.

 Chapter 449 The Beginning of Something Powerful - Part 13

    When they heard the rest of the hall resume their eating, with the ng of knives and forks on tes and gentle conversation once more filling the room, they continued their conversation.


    "Did you not just point out all the reasons why that would be a bad idea," Oliver asked, as he took a sip of his own drink. A lovely cherry juice. The sort of richness afforded only to nobility. He enjoyed it immensely.


    "Indeed. As the oldest son of three, I was meant to be my father''s inheritor, three years back. I declined, after my shipwreck, and came here. That angered him. He''s since said that he would name my brother heir in my ce, as a threat, I assume, but he has not dered it officially.


    I have no doubt that once he hears of me swearing loyalty to the son of Dominus Patrick, there will be no end of trouble," Verdant said.


    "And you have no interest in being an heir?" Oliver asked.


    "I am but a servant of Bohemothia. I have since learned that there are far more interesting things in the world than the squabble of nobility. I see the weakness in these structures and institutions that we nobles dedicate our lives to ¨C indeed, the very systems that we see as reality themselves. They are not that. They are not it. There are forces that move beyond them, such as yourselves.


    We live in a time of change. We live in a time of greatness, a time of tigers. Monstrous men are springing up at an impossible rate all across this small world of ours. The noble games that were so important years ago, they cease to be now.


    My father will scold me for it, and he will disown me, but even setting my own personal interests aside, it is within the interests of House Idris to have a connection with house Patrick, for the sake of the future," Verdant said.


    The priest nced at ckthorn, who had been eyeing him, her quiet features marred by eyes wide with surprise, as she listened to all that he said. She turned away when his gaze fell on her.


    "You''ve only known me a day, Verdant," Oliver said, seriously. This was the crux of the matter for him. Verdant''s support had been useful since their meeting just the day before, but he found it impossible to understand just why the priest was so interested in him. "How can you be so sure of what you say?"


    "I am more sure of the future than I am of the present, Young Wolf," Verdant said cryptically. "I''d heard whisperings of you, before I met you. I do not share the blindness of my people. Their blindness proves to be my advantage. I will take what they do not see. Allow me to serve you, Young Wolf, as you offered, and I swear to make it worthwhile for you."


    Suddenly it had turned back around on Oliver, with the priest himself asking for retainership, and now Oliver found himself unable to ept as easily as he had posed the question.


    "I don''t have a house, as you''ve said¡­" Oliver pointed out.


    "Then I will assist you in rebuilding it," Verdant said.n/?/vel/b//in dot c//om


    "But why are you so sure of this..?" Oliver pressed.


    Verdant nodded to Lady ckthorn next to him. "There sits beside you one of the foremost youngdies in the entire Academy. I do not know why you are acquainted with her, when all else here eye you as an enemy, but I do not need to. Competence attracts opportunity like gravity."


    Oliver''s eyes lit up. Sometimes, the perfect words served to connect just the right dots. It had happened many times with Dominus as he spoke. His master had had that innate wisdom to him, that came with experience, where the truths he spoke came across as universal truths, and were applicable even to problems that Dominus himself had never imagined.


    Verdant''s words aboutpetence came across as a simr sort of truth for Oliver then, even if the priest could never know it.


    They rung frightfully true. It was strength that had won him this position. Strength that had carried him through the miseries of very. Strength that finally awarded him an opportunity to escape a mundane life ofbour, and then it was strength again that allowed him to stay with Dominus, and have him train him.


    As Oliver grew stronger, as he learned more, the opportunities avable to him had multiplied. The world itself had seemed to growrger.


    A vige that had been closed to him and hostile suddenly seemed much more friendly. There were people that he could talk to, and ask favours of, and bargain with. N, her family, Greeves, Lombard, Judas, Loriel, Tolsey, Lord ckwell¡­ The list of people that had suddenly sprung up within his life, as a result of recognizing his strength, it was almost unbelievable.


    It was closer to magic than even what Francis had wielded.


    It was a statement that did much to describe the events of Oliver''s life. He nodded sagely at it.


    Whether or not ckthorn was bothered to be used as an example of Verdant''s theory, she didn''t manage to summon up the words to describe her distaste, though it was written on her face. Either way, she couldn''t exactly dispute it. She, just like the rest of them, detested Oliver ¨C or so he assumed ¨C and yet because of his skill with the de, she''d swallowed her pride and eyed opportunity instead.


    "I don''t really have the money to pay you a wage either," Oliver said, suddenly remembering the other aspect of retainership. Now he was beginning to find all the holes in his off-handed question.


    Verdant smiled at that, thinking it amusing. "That is not amon part of a noble retainership, Young Wolf," he said. "It is more a sign of understanding giving to those from Serving ss backgrounds ¨C the recognition that they need financial support if they are to serve their lieges as well as they would wish to, you need not worry about that with me.


    Indeed, you need not worry about providing me with anything. A retainership isn''t meant to be sworn out of personal gain, regardless. It is meant to be done as an expression of loyalty. If you would allow me the opportunity, Ser Patrick, I would serve you beyond the best of my abilities."

 Chapter 450 The Gravity of Competence - Part 1

    "You''ve already served me well," Oliver said awkwardly, and he meant it. "If you''re sure you''re fine with doing it, then I definitely won''t be turning you down. I''m not that nice a person. I really can''t see what''s in it for you. But your assistance would be greatly appreciated, Verdant."


    "That''s it?" Amelia hissed. She was suddenly standing behind them. Maids were cleaning up the tes that she''d shattered, and she''d dismissed herself as though it was nothing to do with her, inserting herself into Oliver''s conversation instead. "That''s not how you''re meant to swear retainership¡­ it''s meant to be much more, y''know, ceremonial¡­"


    "Do not worry yourself, child. I will swear my oath to my liege before the shrine of Bohethomia. The God of the Oceans will recognize my promise, and hold me to it," Verdant said, seriously.


    "But that isn''t¡­" Amelia wanted to protest more, but she cowered beneath Verdant''s gaze.


    "So¡­ odd," ckthorn said, eyeing the two of them. She''d just barely finished her cake as well. She dabbed her mouth with a napkin, and sighed, looking as exhausted as Oliver had felt before the meal began. Now, strangely, like an energy vampire, he was beginning to feel almost fine.


    The grounds were cold from the freshlyid snow. It was beginning toy more thickly now. When they stepped through it, there was now an audible crunch, as they sank down into the soft snow, and itpacted before the ground.


    After their rather eventful meal, Oliver had made good on his promise with Lady ckthorn. He''d exined to Verdant what the situation was. He felt morefortable doing that now, since the man had promised to be his retainer ¨C though he had not officially sworn it yet ¨C and he was more aware of the rtionship between them.


    Verdant had said he would collect the training sword for that purpose, whilst Pauline finished her meal ¨C the girl had been slower than the rest of them, and now they were gathered outside, looking for a spot in which to practise, as they waited for Verdant to return.


    "Where do you want to go?" Oliver askedzily. Verdant had suggested that they head to the area where his shop was, saying that it typically remained quiet, especially during lunchtime. They''d been heading there by default, as though it was already predecided, but he asked the question of ckthorn anyway, just to see if he could prod her into talking.


    "We don''t have a choice. We already told the priest where we were going," she pointed out. The only time she seemed willing to speak was when she could cut down something that he''d said. He winced at the venom from it, and tried to decide whether he preferred her bitingments to her constant silence.


    Pauline and Amelia trailed behind them as they walked. Amelia nced around ufortably.


    "Mydy¡­ We really should avoid using the main paths. People are looking. It will hurt your reputation to be seen walking with¡­ him," Amelia said, cing a heavy amount of disrespect on the ''him''.


    "Amelia!" Pauline cried out, dismayed at the continuous amount of disrespect that Amelia kept sending Oliver''s way.


    "Out of curiosity, Pauline, what would nobility normally do, if they were being disrespected so continually by a student of the Serving ss?" Oliver asked, innocently, but he looked at Amelia as he asked it, the threat obvious in his words.


    "Well¡­ If it were taken to the teachers, then that student would face severe consequences¡­ expulsion, a whipping, and the like, depending on the severity of the offence.n/?/vel/b//jn dot c//om


    But often the nobility choose to deal with such infractions themselves¡­ Usually by¡­ Uhm¡­ A beating, or a social slighting, making their life more difficult by ostracizing them," Pauline''s eyes darted between Amelia and Oliver as she was forced to list all that would happen to her friend if she continued.


    "Really? I could just beat Amelia and no one would say anything?" Oliver asked.


    "I would," ckthorn growled.


    "The staff would not get involved," Pauline corrected. "Not unless it was judged that you''d gone too far."


    Oliver noticed that Amelia had paled somewhat as a result of the conversation. He shrugged, and had to turn away to hide his smile, lest he break into augh. "You''re lucky I''m such a good guy, then," he said, knowing immediately that she''d bite into it. The girl did not disappoint.


    "You are not!" Amelia said angrily. "We had to fight you just to get you to be kind to our Lady! Our Lady whose house is so above your own, and yet you still couldn''t treat her politely."


    "Fight?" Oliver repeated. "You didn''t have to fight me," he said, "you just had to annoy me. You''re pretty good at that, aren''t you Amelia?"


    "¡­What are you even saying!? I''m not annoying! I''m just pointing out where you''re wrong," she shouted back furiously. Oliver had to keep his head pointed away so that she couldn''t see his smile. It was growing to be rather fun to tease her.


    "Is that it?" ckthorn interrupted, pointing to a path that led off the beaten track, into a copse of trees where Verdant''s cabin inevitablyy. They''d already passed a dozen or so nobles and Serving ss students alike, all of which had given them odd looks at the pairing. He imagined that ckthorn and her entourage would be rather pleased to get out of sight.


    But this was the arrangement that they''d struck up. They wanted to forecast the fact that Patrick had connections to ckthorn. Verdant had been in strong approval.


    ¡­


    ¡­


    By the time they saddled up next to the cabin, Verdant was already waiting, swords in hand. It was a wonder how he''d gotten there so quickly, but Oliver was sure that he''d likely ran, though he could see no trace of sweat on the man''s brow, nor was he out of breath.


    He was talking with a tall young man outside, as the two of them carried out a table, and a tray of tea to go on top of it.

 Chapter 451 The Gravity of Competence - Part 2

    The swords leaned against the side of the cabin, waiting to be used.n/?/vel/b//jn dot c//om


    Verdant noticed their approach. "Ah, Young Wolf, your timing is perfect. Allow me to introduce you to Peter, the student who runs this little Cabin of Advice with me. He''s in his final year of the Academy at the moment, but he has wisdom, at times, that extends far beyond his years."


    Peter gave a humble bow at the instruction. He had a thin face, and a thin body overall, with short cropped ck hair, and a rxed confident air about him. "It is a pleasure to meet you, Ser Patrick. The school is practically abuzz with tales of your exploits. I did not think I would have the opportunity to sit down with you so soon."


    "Ah, well, I''m afraid we''ll have to skip the sitting. I''ve made an agreement to see whether I can teach this pampered madam the sword, and I imagine if I neglect that duty, that fiery little retainer of hers is going to start biting my ankles like a rabid hound," Oliver said.


    Peter raised his eyebrows at Oliver''s odd remark, looking to Verdant for an exnation, but the priest merely shrugged with a smile, a smile which soon spread to Peter''s face as well. "That is certainly one of the more interesting introductions I''ve had," he said. "I can''t say I mind it. I would not dream of getting in the way of whatever business you have nned.


    If you''d allow me to watch, though, I''d consider it a privilege."


    "Of course, Peter," Oliver said, repeating his name in the lue of a proper introduction, after realizing that he''d forsaken the proper proceedings.


    He''d expected Amelia to howl her indignation after hisment, but instead she was tightly bunching her fists together, going a bright red as she sought to hold in her rage. Apparently, even she had some sort of restraint around strangers¡­ all strangers apart from Oliver, it would seem.


    "Sword," Oliver said, picking one of the reasonably heavy weapons from the side of the cabin, and tossing it carelessly towards ckthorn, without any regard for the proper proceedings.


    ckthorn raised an eyebrow at the gesture, but caught the sword nheless.


    "My Lady, we had better take your jacket," Pauline said, sensing the anticipation in her Lady''s movements. She was already raring to go, but she suffered Pauline''s interjection with a brief nod, allowing her to lift the blue jacket from her shoulders, exposing the long sleeves of her jumper underneath.


    "Oh, that was a jumper. I thought it was an interesting part of the dress," Olivermented. Ever since the meal, hisments had been yful. Something had put him in a good mood. Of course, ckthorn knew what that something was ¨C the new addition of a noble retainer ¨C but it did not stop her from finding fault with his statement.


    It made her shudder for him to announce so openly that he''d been looking at her. Indeed, it was a ck dress as Oliver had said, thick and warm, with its sleeves cut free, so that she could wear a white blouse underneath it, and a ck wool jumper over the top of it, to keep herself as warm as she could be without being unfashionable.


    She noted the ground beneath her feet, still covered in snow ¨C an icy snow, after yesterday''syer had frozen in the early hours of the morning ¨C and she drifted the top of her boots over the top of it. These were not the shoes that she would usually use for swordsmanship training. They had a wooden heel on them that made them feel cumbersome for the task, but she hadn''t had a choice.


    Oliver had insisted that they ''get this out the way'' as he''d put it, and she''d been forced to oblige.


    She was pleased that her footing wasn''t too poor. Not like those areas where the snow had already been trodden down, and was less ''icy'' and more just a pure sheet of ice. Here, there was at least some crunch.


    "Are you ready?" Oliver asked herzily.


    "Are you not going to take your jacket off as well, Young Wolf?" Verdant asked. "I had thought you wouldn''t want to get it dirty."


    Oliver looked down at his jacket, as though only just remembering that he was wearing it. Then he frowned, recalling the bandages that had just recently been reapplied to his back. There was a stiffness that came with the wounds there. ckthorn waited ¨C doing her best to hide her impatience ¨C as the priest came to take Oliver''s jacket.


    But he smiled, meeting his gaze, as though remembering something that had happened to him. "No, actually¡­ I think I''ll leave it on. It seems unlikely that she''ll hit me anyway."


    And now the priest was smiling too, a small smile, the sort that one might hide from a child. ckthorn didn''t like those looks. No one had said for them to begin yet, but she sprang off her back foot, her well-treaded boots finding good purchase in the snow. She went flying at him before he could even bring his sword up to defend herself.


    ''Let him try to defend this, then!'' She dered inside her head. She saw that Pauline had the grace to be dismayed by her discourteous start, but Amelia was pumping her fist.


    It was a habit of hers that she did her best to hide. That easily irritable side of herself. She was meant to be imcable, immoveable, an icy beauty to be seen and not felt.


    Her sword neared his chest. It was a heavier de than she was used to. She''d trained with rapiers far more than longswords. She wondered if Oliver had made the priest bring these weapons on purpose, or whether he was merely so thoughtless that he did not recall the weapon she had used on him yesterday.


    "Got you¡ª" she began to dere, heartily. Perhaps she wouldn''t need his training after all. Then she wouldn''t need to put up with his smug attitude, she wouldn''t need to debase herself by putting the ckthorn name in thepany of a Patrick.

 Chapter 452 The Gravity of Competence - Part 3

    CLACK!


    But with a ck of wood against wood, Oliver easily brushed her aside.


    "By the way, Verdant," he said. "What tea have you prepared for us?"


    He was doing it on purpose. She knew that. She knew from the moment she''d seen the teasing smiles on both their faces that they were trying to rile her up, make her lose her temper. He was doing it again, by pretending that his attention was directed elsewhere, as he looked to that boy called Peter and the tea that he was serving them.


    She struck once more. He''d even presented a bit of his back this time. She swore to make him take her seriously. The sword of the ckthorn was something that everyone took seriously.


    But again, Oliver brushed her strikes away. He had the grace to look at her this time, his eyes piercing, a marvel of different colours. Were they green, or were they blue, or were they grey? A distraction ¨C she cast the thought from her mind. Her first strike had failed, the sword as heavy, and she''d lost her speed advantage. She sought a barrage.n/o/vel/b//in dot c//om


    She struck his card, as she''d been taught to. A series of three strikes, with the aim of each one being to gain a small advantage, forcing the enemy into a worse position. It was a most excellent technique for defeating people weaker than her¡­ But that was part of the problem ¨C all of her techniques were for defeating people weaker than her.


    The ckthorn sword assumed the opponent to be a worse swordsman than they. The ckthorn sword was a style built for¡­


    "That would be a good technique, if you were stronger," Oliver noted.


    Her eyes widened. He''d instantly read the origins of her style. Was it really so easy? Was it so obvious that it was a style meant to hammer at the guard of her enemy? Meant to get in close, and use the physical superiority that all ckthorn men had in order to secure the advantage.


    She''d adapted that style, to make up for herck of strength with her speed, and she''d hammered everyone with it. She was quite sure that she was the best swordsman in their year. No, that wasn''t quite true. She was by far and away the best female swordsman, but there were still a handful of boys ¨C owing to their superior physicality ¨C that could push their way past her.


    Still, she was sure her technique was better than anyone else their age.


    Calmly, Oliver brushed aside her strikes. He didn''t use strength, despite having it.


    He used timing, as gently as threading a needle, he hit her sword in just the right ces to take the momentum out of the attack, and to turn the de, until, by the time she hit the third strike in herbination, her sword was twisted halfway across her body, and she was in a position where it would be impossible to defend what came next.


    Oliver tapped her shoulder to illustrate that point. A gentle tap. He''d winded her identally the day before. She''d seen how that had wounded him, to have hurt a woman¡­ And she hated that. It made her even angrier.


    He turned away, a contented smile, having proved his point.


    ckthorn turned to rush in again. He held up a hand to pause, and to her dismay, she did. His gaze brooked no argument. It seemed to demand that she do as she was told. It was like the gaze of her father only¡­ were those golden flecks amongst the green and blue?


    Oliver took the cup of tea that Verdant offered him and gave it a gentle sip.


    "Most impressive," Peter apuded softly. "Our Lady ckthorn has been the Academy''s pride for some time. To see her defeated so delicately seems to be remarkable."


    Peter''s words were kind and seemingly carefully chosen, so that they would not cause Lasha any offence, but she hung her head anyway, biting her lip. She was being made a fool of, again, by a mere¡­ Patrick. Someone whose House did not even have a single property or single servant to its name.


    But then it struck her. Was she not in his house now? Was that not why she hade here in the first ce? His was the house of the sword. They''d given up everything for it. Could there be a better generation of de users in the entire Kingdom?


    There was Arthur''s family¡­ but they¡­ no¡­ that was an impossibility.


    The Patrick name was scorned, but not by this priest. He viewed it with reverence. Was she not there for the same reason? Was she not there because his strength with the sword so far eclipsed everyone else their age that it was almost unfair? Her feet had carried her to his door before she had even had a chance to think about it.


    She''d lowered herself, pride and all, after seeing what he was capable of¡­ because there was far more at stake for her than merely wounded pride.


    Amelia got offended on her behalf for her treatment.


    "What are you doing?" She asked, the aggression undisguised in her voice. "You''re meant to be training Lady ckthorn. Don''t just be sipping tea, ignoring her."


    "There is enough tea for everyone," Peter said, gesturing to the table with a peaceful smile.


    "What am I doing? It''s cold, I have not slept, I am simply enjoying the fine tea that this Academy offers," Oliver said. "Food and drink are one of this ce''s best qualities. I don''t intend to go without. Besides, let me correct you. I am not meant to be training Lady ckthorn.


    I did not agree to that. I simply agreed to test her to see whether she was worth training."


    "Test me?" Lasha repeated, her head tilted to the side. He had indeed said that this morning¡­ But what would a test of that sort even entail? Were they not already training? "What do you need to test me for?"

 Chapter 453 The Gravity of Competence - Part 4

    Verdant also looked interested in Lasha''s question, but disappointing them all, Oliver merely shrugged. "Not a clue," he said, as he took another sip of tea. "You''re the one that asked if I can teach you. That''s what I''m trying to figure out. I''ve never taught anyone. I don''t even know if it''s worth being taught by me.


    What do I even knowpared to the masters?"


    "You knew enough to see through the ckthorn sword technique," Verdant said. Lasha felt her eyebrow twitch. The priest had known of it as well.


    "Is it famous?" Oliver asked, as oblivious as always. He didn''t seem to care about anything that was not rted to his own affairs. He knew so little of what everyone else deemed asmon knowledge. Another aspect of his character that Lasha had quickly found infuriating.


    "To a degree," Verdant said, smiling. "It''s famed for its¡­ aggressive nature. ckthorn cavalry is what you''d send if you needed a particrly aggressive attack. Their ancestry traces back a considerable amount of burly warriors. Heavily armoured infantry, heavy cavalry, and generations of strong leaders have built them a rather fierce reputation."


    "Brutes? But Lady ckthorn turned out fine, didn''t she? If nothing else, she''s at least got a fair bit of femininity to her," Oliver said, draining thest of his drink.


    It should have been apliment¡­ and yet it was delivered with such carelessness that it was impossible to take it as one. Lasha''s grip on her sword tightened, whilst Amelia boiled, readying herself for another tirade. Even Pauline seemed shocked.


    "I would expect she has her mother to thank for that," Verdant said, taking Oliver''s empty cup from him.


    "So, what''s a girl from a House like that acting so serious about the sword for? Don''t you have brothers to do the fighting for you? Sounds to me like it''s a House that admires physicality. You''re never going to be a brawny warhammer wielder, if that''s what you''re looking for. Neither am I.


    I don''t have the build for it," Oliver said, nonchntly, jabbing at her vitals as carelessly as if he were shovelling dirt. He seemed to have no regard for her feelings. He was entirelycking in any sort of subtly.


    "Maybe I don''t wish to be saddled with a woman''s duties," ckthorn said tersely. She found herself quite tense, as she fought to hold back to the torrent of emotion within her.n/o/vel/b//in dot c//om


    Oblivious to her internal plight, Oliver took that statement ¨C that should have been something of a taboo if said to anyone else ¨C and marched right past it, as though it was the most normal thing in the world. Of course, female swordsmen were not unheard of¡­ But nor were they expressly praised.


    A woman could achieve far more for her House in politics and in governance than she could on the battlefield.


    "Ah, I''ve heard that before," Oliver said with augh, remembering N. N had her extraordinary talent with the bow, but what did Lasha have? Her sword technique was¡­ it was good, at least. It was hard to look down on it. But it wasn''t exactly something that could change her life. He studied her, unaware of how ufortable it was making her.


    "You¡­ have?" ckthorn asked, surprising herself with the question.


    "It''s not that umon, is it?" Oliver asked, looking to Verdant for reassurance. "I mean, I wouldn''t exactly want to be stuck doing a woman''s work either. Seems in boring to me. It isn''t surprising that you would want to do something else. Is it that big a deal?"


    "I think it''s more the¡­ direct nature of your discussion of such a thing," Verdant said carefully. "It goes against the ideals of our noble society. Lady ckthorn has an image to uphold. It would tarnish her reputation if others were to hear how seriously she pursued the sword."


    "I thought you were justmenting on how admirable people found it. Or at least, Peter was," Oliver pointed out.


    "Yes, within the confines of the Academy, for a woman to seek out the de, and dance with it, that would not be so odd. But to have ambitions of using the de beyond graduation, as I imagine Lady ckthorn is hinting ¨C that would have considerable consequences, if it were to get out," Verdant said.


    "So why''s she telling me?" Oliver asked. "Why risk bothering to ask me to teach you, when you knew the consequences?"


    "Ah, Young Wolf¡­" Verdant said. "I would not ask that you change, but I imagine other men would be considerably¡­ gentler with their words in front of the woman herself."


    "Verdant did mention that you were rather¡­ direct, with your words," Peter noted, sparing Lasha a sympathetic nce.


    At this point, the ckthorn retainers seemed to be something approaching thunderstruck. Even they were not aware of the full degree to which Lasha pursued the sword. She herself was not even entirely sure she''d admitted it to herself, until she was forced to speak it out loud.


    "Why? I think it''s a good thing," Oliver said, surprising everyone. When he could see the questioning looks they shot him, he pulled a face, as though he was surprised by their surprise.


    "Dare we ask you to exin, Young Wolf?" Verdant asked.


    Oliver sighed. "When I decided to keep going with lectures today, I did not expect for it to lead into such an eventful day¡­ Trying to talk like this without even an hour of sleep to lend its support is proving difficult, but I suppose I should at least try... Let''s see. Mm. My mas¡ªfather, broke through to the Sixth Boundary."


    Again, he dropped that bombshell ¨C that bombshell that should have beenmon knowledge, if it were not for the counter-rumours refuting it ¨C as though it were the most natural thing in the world. Lasha felt her heart beat faster. This was the Patrick world. A world separated society. Away from wars, and away from Generals.


    The pursuit of the de for the sake of solitary swordsmanship¡­ She found that admirable, but she would never dare to admit that.

 Chapter 454 The Gravity of Competence - Part 5

    "He didn''t do it by juggling a family, a government, responsibilities, trying to run a shop, or starting different hobbies. No, he gave all he had to the de, expecting that his devotion would be rewarded in return. As it turns out, he stagnated for a decade, despite that dedication¡­ But I still can''t help but think it''s at least the first step.


    If you really want something to change, the first and most obvious thing is to give everything you have to it. That should at least give you some progress," Oliver said.


    "But I already have," Lasha protested. "The sword¡­ It''s all I''m good at."


    "Something tells me that isn''t true," Oliver said with a knowing smile. He looked to her retainers for confirmation, and reluctantly, Pauline agreed.


    "Mydy, in all your sses you''re at least in the top three¡­" Pauline said.


    Oliver nodded at that, smiling his agreement. "See, that''s the difference between you and me, Lady ckthorn ¨C and my father. Before he taught me the sword, I had nothing."


    He said that with such vehemence that it startled her. It was a terribly bitter statement, filled with raw emotion. Behind his eyes there seemed toy the weight of incalcble experience, the likes of which she could not understand. Of course¡­ Of course ¨C his house had been destroyed when he was a boy. He had nothing. He''d lived with a father that the Stormfront did not even know was alive.


    Just what kind of life must the two of them have lived together?


    "The sword, for both my father and I, it was salvation. He chased it for salvation from Arthur''s death, and I chased it because there was nothing else," Oliver said. "Toe to me, looking for tutge¡­ I don''t know, Lady ckthorn. It seems like you''re asking the wrong sort of people. You grasp everything well, and you have a number of options avable to you.


    It''s a bit different from the pressure of having no other path."


    "So¡­ you won''t teach me?" ckthorn asked, not quite understanding. "Or are you telling me to give up everything in pursuit of excellence with the sword? Is that what you''re telling me? Are you saying I haven''t tried hard enough?"


    It was the most she had ever spoken in a long time. The most honest that she had ever been.n/?/vel/b//in dot c//om


    "No¡­ Not really," Oliver said, stretching out his back. "You definitely shouldn''t copy the kind of situation that my father and I got ourselves into. But those situations made us what we are, and I''m not sure if I can emte the kind of tutge that he gave me. For one, I''m nowhere near the swordsman he was. And two, life here in the Academy is pretty damn cosy."


    "She still seems confused," Verdant noted.


    "Well ¨C so am I," Oliver said with a sigh. "I don''t have a clue what I want out of this. But father said that training me was what got him through to the Sixth Boundary, so maybe in chasing the Third, training her will make me feel something¡­"


    "A note, if you would, Young Wolf. It is one thing discussing the Boundaries with just you and I¡­ But with so many people, I would call it ill-advised. It is still a taboo, after all, for those from udia''s church."


    "I didn''t hear anything," Peter said, cheerfully blocking his ears.


    Amelia and Pauline for their part seemed as though they didn''t understand the talk of Boundaries. Lasha knew ¨C she''d overheard her father and her older brother discussing them ¨C but she didn''t let that on.


    "Here''s what we''ll do then. There''s ten minutes left. Why don''t you go properly all out, and try andnd a hit on me," Oliver said, returning to his position across from her. "This has been embarrassing for you already, hasn''t it? You shouldn''t need to worry about embarrassing yourself further. There''s no one here to see.


    Why don''t you stop wearing that mask of yours, and show me what you can really do?"


    Lasha did not know what to make of the talk of masks, but regardless the opportunity that she had wanted had presented itself. The time was short, and it had indeed been embarrassing revealing her desire, but that did not matter now. She would force him to teach her.


    He indicated that he was ready, this time focusing on her with his full attention. He knew a little more of who she was now, after all. So in a sense, he could see more of her. She wasn''t just the aggressive girl that had sparred him so furiously the day before, but someone striving for something. It made her far more understandable to him.


    This time, Oliver went first. He saw Lasha''s eyes widen at the sudden spring. Her style, after all, was based on furious attack. From Verdant''s history of the ckthorns ¨Cbelling them as a ruthless attacking force ¨C he sought to see if that weakness extended to ack of defence.


    He didn''t go all out with his speed. He didn''t need to. His eyes were more on Lasha''s booted feet. He wanted to see how her bnce shifted when she was confronted.


    Surprisingly, her step back was deft. Her bnce was perfect. She must have had flexible hips, for she was able to move her feet close in at angles that he would have struggled with. It lent her a particr grace.


    Now that she''d taken a step back, he pressed her, seeing what she could make of it.


    He felt a sudden pang of danger. It hung in the air like a poison. It was the same sense that he''d gotten walking through goblin territory. He knew following her that a trap was likely waiting, though he didn''t know what part of his sense told him that.


    The counterattack game, as he had expected it. A sudden thrust, straight down the middle. From her favouring of rapiers, her thrusts were one of her best strikes, but this one was better than all the others that she had delivered. She did it with a fire in her eyes, a sneakiness.


    Oliver grinned, seeing that same trickery in her that he''d enjoyed in him. "Not such a coddled young Lady after all, are you?"

 Chapter 455 The Gravity of Competence - Part 6

    The others seemed as though they had no idea what he was referring to. Even Lasha herself seemed not to know. She hardly let her expression shift, as Oliver deftly rolled his shoulder to let the de fly over the top of it.


    He released a hand from his own sword, and reached out, now that she was in close, to gently pat her on her head. Not enough to hurt her, but enough to point out the weaknesses in her defence. She frowned, taking a step back, acknowledging that she''d lost. It was an improvement in attitude from the previous day, where she''d been so determined to hit him that she''d ignored all his attempts at decency.


    She ran in again, her attack style furious. He could certainly imagine such a thing at the head of a cavalry charge. In the hands of a brawny man, this attack style would certainly be ruthless.n/?/vel/b//in dot c//om


    It was no wonder she wascking, really. This wasn''t who she was.


    It made him once more appreciate Dominus'' wisdom. Dominus had never tried to force a style on Beam. Never. He''d merely corrected weaknesses, and allowed Oliver to take care of the rest.


    Despite Dominus'' cynical outlook on the world, his natural teaching style bespoke of an acute optimism ¨C the recognition that a person had natural gifts, and that they''d discover them themselves, if they had someone to guide them.


    He saw that in Lasha, her own natural gifts, stifled. The quickness that the counterattack hade with earlier, and now, a little bit more subtly in her striking.


    Oliver stepped off to the side, using his full speed, forcing her to keep up. If she was surprised by how quickly he could move when he wanted to, she did not show it. She followed him by spinning, casting the hem of her dress up with the movement, her ck hair flying with it. Her sword came crashing into his at the end of the spin.


    Oliver recognized why that strike felt so heavy, because it was something he''d spent so much time on himself.


    It was the conservation of flow within the de, no wasted movements, saving momentum.


    For the first time, heplimented her, and he did so seriously, without any of his earlier joking.


    "Good," he said. He was stunned to see her blush at thepliment. The woman hardly seemed to have any emotion, but the slightest thing set her off.


    How was he to know that it was the first time she had attempted something new of her own?


    There was beauty in seeing her move like that. It was the same beauty that he saw in N, as she desperately ran after that which she cared about. As she took aim at a crow, and pinned it perfectly with her arrow.


    Gods. He caught his own thought. When had he ever thought of N in terms of beauty? That was a shocking thing to catch himself doing.


    But it was beauty. It was the same beauty that he''d learned on the battlefield, when he saw saw through both udia and Ingolsol''s eyes, as he looked at people, right to their hearts, and he saw whaty there, if they were guided.


    Perhaps with ckthorn he might see the same¡­ Was that the sunshine sparkling off her, or was that the golden light of udia''s progress?


    But udia had already gone missing, hadn''t she? He hadn''t felt that presence, nor Ingolsol''s rumbling slyness, as he sought new ways to cause pandemonium. He didn''t feel it, and yet he could see in Lasha a connection to that which he sought in himself.


    She tried to kick him. A distinctly udylike move. Heughed. Her swordschool had definitely not taught her that. He caught the boot before it could mar his forearm, and he once again tapped her on the shoulder with his de, indicating that he''d won.


    "I''m faster than you, and stronger," Oliver said. "If we y in those terms, I''d win. You have to find a way outside of those."


    He liked the seriousness he saw in her eyes when he gave her advice. She genuinely yearned for this. For progress. Was this what Dominus had seen in him? This raw bit of excitement that came with seeing what someone else had to offer. Well, not just someone else, but someone of talent, someone who could surprise him.


    She leapt back, once more putting distance between them. Even the act of leaping back seemed to be in defiance of her ckthorn style. Oliver, obliging, followed, continuing to put pressure on her so that she might perform.


    She pulled her leg back, the telltale sign that a kick was about to be thrown. He''d have to warn her about forecasting her strikes before she delivered them¡ª


    But then she booted off a pile of icy snow in his direction. It was his turn to be surprised. He leapt back, dodging the worst of it. He really didn''t want to get that jacket of his dirty¡­ But ckthorn had no such reservations. In a spectacr thrust, she dove straight through it, her hair and the jumper sodden from the effort.


    The point travelled straight and true. She was far closer to Oliver than she''d ever been with her previous strikes, owing to the screen that she''d cast up between them. He could see the smile of triumph starting to spread across her face. Perhaps if he''d been a better person, he would have allowed her that moment. She''d clearly put a good amount of effort into the trick, after all.


    Oliver was not one for easy victories, though. He deflected the de with his fist, jabbing the t of it from underneath, so that the thrust missed its course entirely, and went sailing over his shoulder again. With his free sword hand, he tapped her on the head,ughing at the wetness that now ran through her hair, as the snow melted on her cheeks.


    "Alright, alright," heughed. "I''ll take you. You''re not as boring as that ckthorn swordsmanship makes you seem. The Lady Lasha behind it seems to be far more interesting than the Lady ckthorn."

 Chapter 456 Looking for Gold - Part 1

    He turned on his heel,  content to leave it there. He was eyeing the tray of drinks that Peter had set out. The tea had been delicious. A lovely blend of wintery berries, sweetened with honey. Oliver loved sweets. It was a fact that likely would have done much to offset his rather aggressive reputation if it were to ever get out.


    He ignored the cries of Amelia as she ran to collect her mistress, somehow managing to find a way to me her state on Oliver. She was certainly a lively girl; he couldn''t fault her for that.


    Lasha found herself unexpectedly pleased that his attention had flitted away so quickly. That way, she did not have to hide the unreserved smile that she wore, even as she felt icy snow melt down her back.


    The days passed by more peacefully for Oliver after that. To a degree. He made sure to keep a lower profile. Or more urately, he tried to hide away from any more potentially troublesome things.


    He had begun his lessons with Lady ckthorn in earnest, with their training happening most lunchtimes, and Verdant had dragged him to the small shrine of Bohemothia so that he might officially swear his oaths.


    All in all, life was going well. Three days had passed, his wounds were healing ¨C now that Verdant was strictly overseeing them, making sure he took proper care of himself ¨C and the days were as rewarding as they were peaceful.


    That was, until, his first Command lesson finally came creeping around to his schedule.


    His lectures thus far had been rtively simple. He was waiting on General Close Combat Training, and Physical Enhancement ¨C two lessons that were typically held on a weekend ¨C and in the meantime, it was his more academic subjects that he was being forced to take.


    He''d had more lessons in Advanced Strategies ¨C these he found to be considerably moreplicated than the rest, given their references to things that he had never studied before ¨C and under the rmendation of Professor Volguard, he''d even signed up with Mathematics, as a recement for the Swords Training lessons that he had been barred from.


    He''d gone, and endured one of those lessons, just the day before, and it was enough to make him seriously consider having his head examined. None of it made sense. It was like a whole newnguage in and of itself.


    "I see you''re already tending to the most important factors of keeping an army maintained, by looking into its strategy,mand, medical upkeep and individualbat ability¡­ why not round that out with mathematics? It delves into logistics, and helps formte a more logical mind which can be useful for strategy," Volguard had said.


    "Why wouldn''t I just do the logistics course for that, then?" Oliver had asked.


    Volguard had given a vague smile at that and said. "Well, perhaps it would help you fortify the more schrly areas in which you arecking¡­ At the very least, it would give you an entryway into them."


    That hadn''t exactly filled Oliver with much excitement, but he decided to take the professor''s advice for what it was worth, and attend the sses anyway. It had immediately be obvious to him that he would never be an aplished mathematician, but the discussions of coin that the lesson had centred around had interested him.n/o/vel/b//in dot c//om


    It was the sort of thing that would be of interest to Greeves and N, and to him, if he ever wanted to try his hand at rebuilding the Patrick estates.


    With mathematics going so poorly, and his other written subjects going just as badly, it was clear that he had work to do. Of course, it wasn''t as bad as it could be.


    When they weren''t using too much terminology, he found the concepts that each of the three subjects spoke of to be quite easy to understand, and even exciting, as he puzzled out ways he might apply them to his own endeavours¡­ But the writing was holding him back terribly. He was just too slow.


    The other students seemed to be able to nce at the chalkboards and know exactly what each word meant, but Oliver had to sound out the individual glyphs in his head to find out what each one was. The was a simply extraordinary gulf between the amount of practise the other noble students had put into reading, and what he himself had done. His writing suffered from simr problems.


    There was work to be done on them, and he''d attempted to start addressing it in his room, having had Verdant bring him a series of simple books from the library¡­ But as of yet, there''d been far from significant progress.


    He paced across the grounds now, heading to Command ss, a ss held exclusively for nobles. It was a biweekly ss, marking it as the most infrequent of all the lectures that he was taking, but that only added to the excitement for it.


    Verdant had told him that it was meant to be training for authoritative speech, and had warned him that the simrities to real battle weren''t there, and that it would be no substitute for the training of a proper General. But Oliver didn''t have a proper General. On that front, hardly any progress had been made, or so it seemed.


    This Command ss was the closest connection he had to that desired future.


    The ss was to be held in the Central Castle ¨C the only ss that he had that was held in that building. He walked there with a spring in his step, once more passing Gras and his building team as they worked to construct a shop for Gargon.


    He slowed his pace as he went by them, noting that the bespeckled boy that they''d been leaving out was missing.


    "Ser Patrick!" Gras said, hurrying out of the foundational structure to greet him, after someone alerted him to hising. Oliver marvelled at the speed that they were making on the structure. Already, the barebones were done, the framing all butplete for the walls, the roof and the floor.

 Chapter 457 Looking for Gold - Part 2

    The foundations didn''t extend into the ground. That was one stiption that Verdant had informed him of. The structures were to be built so that they could easily be demolished. Once the owner of a store graduated, any property that he''d built would be demolished upon his leaving, to make way for the new waves of noble students that were passing through.


    "Hello, Gras," Oliver said, slowing to a halt. Therge boy seemed surprised that Oliver had remembered his name, as did the others. But whilst that surprise might have won him a temporary smile, it did notst long. The yellow-shirted student shifted ufortably, hesitant to share something.


    "Quickly now. I''m on my way to ss. Did you give thought to my offer?" Oliver asked. He''d previously offered to pay Gras two silvers for work that Gargon was paying him one silver for. It had been a childish little bit of interfering, but it was something that Oliver was beginning to take more seriously now.


    At first, thirty golds had seemed like enough, but after spending time around ckthorn and Verdant, he''d quickly realized how paltry it was when it came to achieving the things expected of a noble. The reconstruction of a Patrick estate would take far, far more than the mere thirty golds that Lombard had given him.n/?/vel/b//in dot c//om


    "We did, Ser, gracious as it was, we told Lord Gargon of it, to see what he had to say. Just a loyalty thing, you see. We can''t have other nobles thinking that we''d walk out on a contract just like that. It would be bad for our reputation. Lord Gargon¡­ he wasn''t happy. But he''s increased our pay to four silvers to match your offer," Gras said, awkwardly.


    "Sorry, Ser."


    "It''s quite alright," Oliver said with a smile. "You''re making four times what you originally were, are you not?"


    Gras nodded hesitantly. The others were listening in on their conversation, evidently, they were quite pleased about this turn of events as well. But they feared the tension it would cause. More than that, they feared Oliver''s reaction to it.


    "Then make sure you take his money, and we''ll leave it at that," Oliver said. He spared Gras a brief nod, and then continued on his way to the Central Castle. They watched him go, dumbfounded.


    Oliver smiled to himself as he walked. Gargon''s reaction was typical of a pride-filled noble. Greeves would have skinned him alive for hisck of merchant sense. He''d doubled his payment to the workers, seeing it as a battle between Oliver and himself, as though this were a bidding war.


    But it had been a mere passingment that Oliver had made on a whim. It wasn''t like he''d actually had to pay the workers 2 silvers each ¨C for twenty workers, that would have been 4 precious golds ¨C but Gargon, on the other hand, would actually have to make good on his boast. 8 golds to his initial 2.


    It likely didn''t mean anything at all to someone of Gargon''s wealth, but still, Oliver couldn''t help seeing it as a small victory.


    He crossed through to the Central Castle, unsure of really where it was that he was meant to be going. Verdant had given him directions, but a long list of directions spoken as words didn''t mean nearly as much until you saw the ce in the flesh.


    He passed the dining hall, and then decided to ask. The student pointed him further into the bowels of a castle, towards a set of stairs. It was the first time in any of his sses that he''d had to ascend to the second floor. In fact, now that he realized it, he didn''t think he''d ever gone up a floor in any of the castles.


    On the second floor, he couldn''t help but note that it seemed considerably more stately. There were statues lining the hallway immediately after the stairs, and as he crossed into the next one, they were reced by suits of armour, each clutching a sword pointed down towards the ground.


    There were banners lining the walls too. Sigils that he''d started to recognize, of some of therger noble houses. He recognized Lord ckwell''s owl, a sigil that he was intimately familiar with by this point, considering he wore the pin of his chest wherever he went.


    Even the blue carpet that lined the way seemed less trodden than the carpets in the other castles. Well, that did make sense. If this was a ss exclusively for nobles ¨C and an optional ss at that ¨C then there wouldn''t be much reason for other students to be heading in this direction¡­ Unless, of course, there might have been other sses that were being held up there.


    As of yet, Oliver knew no such things.


    There stood arge wooden door at the end of the hallway. It was the destination that both Verdant''s directions, and the earlier student''s directions seemed to mark. They''d both said that the door was distinctive for its size, and it would be hard to miss.


    Indeed, as Oliver nced down the hallway, the other doors set into the walls were nearly half as small. If size was to be his main indicator, then this would be the ce.


    He knocked on the door just in case.


    "Enter," came a firm voice, and so he did.


    He pushed open the door with a certain amount of authority. These castle doors were heavy, and if one did not assert himself with a strong initial pull, they could be something of a fight to get open, especially in ces where the hinges had been left to rush.


    Oliver took in the room as the door swung open, realizing that it was distinctly smaller than he would have expected. Not really big enough to hold a ss in ¨C were there so few people in attendance?


    And it was richly furnished too, the typical stone walls that he was so used to seeing were lined halfway up with varnished wooden panelling, and then there was the rug of the bear on the floor, and the head of an antler set as a trophy on one wall.

 Chapter 458 Looking for Gold - Part 3

    By the time he was fully open, he realized his mistake. This room was only reallyrge enough for a single person, and a singlerge desk. A magnificent piece. Oliver had never been one to admire furniture ¨C he''d never had enough money to care for such things ¨C but this desk was so grand that even he could see the beauty in it.


    The wood was solid, dark and varnished, as smooth as polished marble on its top. It was the carvings that really sold it, though,bours of love, carvings of coiling dragons winding their way around the legs, and then a nesting eagle, carved on the tabletop. It looked like a table ornament, but no, it was part of the table itself.


    The man behind the desk seemed impressive enough to warrant it.


    He was one of the few people that Oliver had seen in his time here who insisted on beingpletely armoured. The vast majority of Oliver''s professors ¨C and the other professors he had seen ¨C chose to wear something morefortable, yet still formal enough for the prestige of their post.


    The man''s sword wasid out across the desk, in its sheath, just waiting. There was no paperwork or the like. No pens. The man was merely sitting, with his sword in front of him, and his hands sped, waiting for something.


    He seemed as old as Tavar, but he wore the age better. He kept his chiselled jaw free of a beard, and even the hair atop his head as short and neatly trimmed, the ckness just seeing the first pepperings of grey.


    Oliver managed to remain graceful despite his mistake, and despite the clear irritation manifest on the man''s face.


    "Who are you?" The man got the question out before he could apologise.


    "Pardon. I was looking for the Command ss. I was told it had a rather distinctive door¡­ and this seemed to be the most appropriate ce, given that description," Oliver said.


    The man grunted. "Distinctive door..? I suppose that''s one way to put it. People can''t stop knocking."


    It was only then that Oliver saw the pile of paperwork strewn all over the other side of the room. It made a sharp contrast to the man''s well-kept appearance. With the broken chair thaty among it, it seemed to have been done in a fit of rage.


    The man tracked his gaze, and his own eyes sharpened, as if trying to read Oliver''s judgement on his face.


    "Not going toment?" The man asked. "From your reputation, I would have expected at least some sort of remark. Your father wouldn''t have held back."


    "I do recall you asking me who I was," Oliver noted.n/?/vel/b//in dot c//om


    "Is a question''s only purpose to find an answer?" The man replied. Before motioning to the mess on the floor. "Give me your best. See if your tongue stings like Dominus'' could."


    "Well, I would say, given that you have a fire raging in the half, if you wanted to be done with the papers so badly you might have used that instead," Oliver said. "Also, a bit of a waste of a chair¡­ General?"


    He guessed thest part, but the man didn''t refute him. Who else would be tucked away in such a grand room in the Central Castle, fully armoured with his sword? The man clearly had a military air about him. The scar on his cheek spoke to that, as did his particr sternness ¨C the sort of seriousness that only a man that had seen the horrors of war could truly muster.


    The man tutted. "Disappointing. Those are your words, not your father''s."


    Oliver couldn''t say much in response to that, for they were indeed his words.


    "Burning them¡­ Yes, that would have been nice, if I did not need to tend them," the manined. "Far easier to slice through an army with a sword than to scribe it all afterwards."


    Oliver nced at the man again. From his appearance, he didn''t seem the sort that would be so disinclined towards paperwork. Indeed, his cleanliness made it seem as though administrative duties were as much his forte as the sword¡­ but then, appearances could be deceiving.


    The man drifted off into thought, beforeing back to himself, and waving Oliver away with a hand. "Go on then, out. You''ve already realized this isn''t the Command room. Go."


    "Would you point me in the direction of it?"


    "Do I look like I have the time to be pointing anyone in the direction of anything?"


    "Quite frankly, General¡­ Yes, yes you do," Oliver said.


    The faintest crack of a smile broke the General''s lips. "That''s more like it. I suppose that sort of bite is not something you canmand. You have to wait for the moment to be ripe¡­ You''re one corridor away from the Command ssroom. Go left. A distinctive door ¨C smaller than mine."


    Oliver dipped his head in thanks, then left, closing the door behind him, leaving the General still brooding behind his desk, whilst he made no moves to tend to the mess that he''d made.


    Thetch closed more loudly than he would have liked. He half expected the General to storm out andin to him ¨C the man did seem to be in a rather bad mood, after all. But Oliver heard no further movements from inside, and sighed with relief.


    That could have gone poorly. The General had encouraged him to be direct with his words, but he couldn''t help thinking that was a mistake¡­


    He found the Command ssroom using the General''s directions. Indeed, it was a distinctive door. Large ¨C not quite asrge as the General''s, butrger than the others ¨C but the most distinctive part of it was its colour. All the other doors were either the colour of dark varnished wood, orpletely painted ck. This one, in opposition to all of those, was a startling clean white.


    He almost didn''t want to touch it, for fear of dirtying its colour.


    The Novel will be updated first on this website. Come back and


    continue reading tomorrow, everyone!