ã€ŠSword of Endingã€‹


 Chapter 1

    The boy stared into the distance. His feet ached and his head hurt. His stomache growled. Had he just caught that fat lizard an hour ago! Hunger washauting him for days now and the different environment had made it difficult to procure prey. When he was still part of a pack, he had feasted on his bad days, for his family also hunted. How he stayed hungry. Growing weaker.

    But on the horizon he made out lights. They would give answers. Maybe he could find some prey there? Steal some food for other packs that were careless? Theft was not new to him. If he hadn¡¯t done so, he would have often stayed hungry in his old pack. Only the strong survived.

    With a growling stomach he fought his way a few thousand meters further, before he blacked out. He did not notice anymore how his head hit the dusty road. Neither did he notice the wandering swordsman that scooped him up from there and carried him into the village.

    When the kid woke hours later in the first floor of an inn, wrapped up in warm blankets, he did not know where he was. But his confusion quickly gave way to his instincts. Unfamiliar humans stood to the right side of his bed and talked with each other. When their looks fell on the recently awoken boy, he quickly jumped out of his bed and fled towards a corner.

    They blocked his only exit with their mere presence. Growling and moving on all fours, he threw them a glare that held anger and anxiety. But the expected aggressiveness failed to take place. Confused and thoughtful stares laid on him, before a big and bulky man peeled off the group. Definitely their pack leader.

    The other showed respect and stepped back as he advanced forward. The child growled louder and showed his teeth making itself as big as possible on all fours. But the threats showed no effect.

    The man got close and knelt down to do something that the kid would have never expected him to do. He growled back.

    Thrown off and a little scared the kid lashed out, his hand formed to a claw. Immediately his wrist was caught by the arm of the man, that looked down on him with a raised eyebrow and cocky grin. The boy reacted in turn to kick and punch, growling loudly and even going for a bite on the arm. But none of his attacks found their target.

    From the so far silently observing group a horrified yell sounded: ¡°Ollowyn! Ollowyn! Recir¨ª dereu! Parante! Ollowyn!¡±

    The cocky grin on the mans face died, before he knocked the kid back into the corner with a quick shove. Then he rose and turned his back to the boy to face the group. He casually brushed a loose strand of hair out of his face and bound it to his long ponytail before speaking. ¡°What was that? Southerner?¡± His gaze in no way friendly.

    The merchant clad in an orange cloak stepped out of the group. His gaze full of fear towards the little boy. ¡°Ollowyn¡­ Ollowyn¡­¡± he repeated again and again.

    The swordsman, that had growled at the boy before, showed a much darker face now. His hand moved to grab his sword¡¯s handle. He emitted an aura that was felt all throughout the room. The child began to whimper and crawled deeper towards the supposedly safe corner. This man, that wore the shiny claws on his side, was dangerous!

    ¡°I will only ask one more time. Talk in my tongue or I will personally silence you forever. That is a promise.¡±

    Pale as chalk the man stumbled backwards. ¡°Fo-Forgive me. The child. It¡¯s a demon! A wolvesdemon! See yourself! Under all this filth and dirt his hair is snow-white! He¡¯s a demon! A Ollowyn!¡±

    The swordsman, that had already pulled his weapon a few centimeters out of its sheath, stored it away again. The smile of a devil crawled upon his face. ¡°Hahaha. You religious Southerners¡­ These superstitions, do you even know where they came from? Your imperial family made all of this up so they could slaughter the bloodline of the former emperor!¡±

    He frowned. ¡°But it seems it wasn¡¯t enough to snuff it all out. This innocent child will not be killed for the wars of old as long as I can prevent it. Go! Leave my sight before I forget myself!¡±

    The merchant, however, made no preparations to leave. Seemingly rock solid in his belief that this demon had to be brought to justice. The speech had not let him waver for a second.

    Before he was able to start up with his hate speech again, the swordsman had already dashed from his position in a fleeting motion and crossed the distance towards the trader. He then aggressively pulled his weapon from his crouched position and rammed the hilt into the sternum of the merchant before the blade was even able to leave it¡¯s sheath. Ribs broke like dry branches and the weapon disappeared in a flash of light, before the tradesman crashed onto the floor.

    ¡°Go. Now. When you force me to draw my sword, you will die.¡± Then the swordsman turned to face to shivering kid. ¡°Haha. Look at that. Now you have respect for me, huh? Don¡¯t worry, I will save you. You don¡¯t deserve to die here... From now on your name will be Ollowyn. Understood?¡±

    Since the kid was unable to comprehend any word the man spouted, and his demeanor was confusing, it took a few days of language lessons to make the boy understand.

    In that time, there were many soothing meals and the newly discovered way of communicating blew Ollowyn¡¯s mind. Now he was able to ask something, able to research things with the help of others and learn by having things explained to him, rather than finding out himself. That had never been possible in his earlier pack. As much as he had tried to describe his ideas of hunting to his family, the tilted heads of the wolves had made clear to him, that it just was not possible to communicate anything but simple things.

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    But not all was new and good in his life. Better said, it was far worse. Never had he left his family if he had know that such horror would be part of his new life.

    ¡°Nuu! Niee¡± Nee¡±, tried Ollowyn, but the word ¡°No¡± would just not leave his mouth clearly.

    Of course the swordsman understood immediately what the child had tried to say. But it was all the same to him. -SPLASH!- And the boy hit lukewarm and soapy water again. It was already the second washtub, that they had filled for him, but the penetrating dirt was hard to get rid off.

    For the swordsman, Thasun Torr¨¦i, however, this was a very fun and rewarding undertaking. The boy was powerful for his young age. Crafty, nifty and precise blows with arms, legs, his nails and teeth came Thasun¡¯s way. They more often than not were nearly able to hit their mark. It excited him to see such fighting potential in a child so young. If someone were to be able to teach him and tame that wild side of his, he would make for a very interesting soldier.

    After two and a half hours of struggle, the bathing was finally over. Tired from the whole ordeal, he let go of the still writhing boy. It needed almost the whole day until Ollowyn had calmed down. His skin felt wounded, open and his hair smelled of the cursed water. He swore to himself that at the next possibility he would jump in a river and crawl through mud.

    After all his troubles, the swordsman clad the boy in a soft robe of scratchy wool. Naturally the kid was far less happy to finally wear clothing than Thasun was. Over and over again he got rid of it and threw it away, no matter how often Thasun forced him into it. Finally frustrated over the resistance and energy the young boy presented him with, he bought him a much lighter and less scratchy linen shirt. This time he beat the boy whenever he tried to take it off, and soon he wore it without struggle.

    The child still possessed no trousers or shoes, but Thasun got really tired off all this fighting for etiquette. He always had hated it to be with humans and the lone traveling had always been a good deed for his soul. He could not wait to turn the child over to his master in his hometown. He, Thasun Torr¨¦i, could not possible take care of a child!

    Ollowyn would only adopt all his bad habits and turn into a copy of himself! And the world had enough angry hermits already. How could he of all people just have picked up a child? Sighing he shook his head at his actions.

    The next morning they both left to travel. Ollowyn was especially excited to finally leave the inn. His new pack leader forced him to do a lot of things that he did not like, but he was strong and he taught him how to speak so he was fine with it.

    ¡°Whutch dis?¡±, he asked for the hundredth time.

    ¡°It¡¯s a frog.¡±, Thasun explained.

    ¡°Taschty. Hunt?¡±, Ollowyn tried again. For some reason his new pack leader was overly lazy. And he did not want him to try and hunt for him either.

    ¡°We have enough left to eat.¡± came the usual answer.

    ¡°Wai not hunt?¡±, asked the confused Ollowyn again. ¡°Ollowyn bestest hunter.¡±

    Thasun nodded. ¡°Not necessary. We have enough food.¡±

    The boy tilted his head thoughtfully. ¡°No hungry?¡±

    ¡°No. Not hungry.¡± Thasun sighed.

    To negate the flow of ongoing questions, he decided to run the next part of their way. The boy would not be able to talk once he had difficulty keeping pace.

    ¡°Ollowyn, we run now.¡±

    The boy tilted his head again and let his long snow-white hair hang in the wind. ¡°Hunt?¡±

    Thasun nodded. ¡°Prey in this direction.¡±

    That was a lie, but it would not hurt to motivate the boy to run and keep quiet. Then he began to slowly pass over from walking to a paced jog and strapped the swords on his back so they would not get in the way. It felt good to finally move his muscles again and to expend himself a little.

    Since he had found the child, his workout routine was a shadow of what it had once been. He did do one or two hours of sword exercises every day. Both in the morning before Ollowyn woke and in the evening after he fell asleep. Usually, however, he ran most of the distance he traveled and steeled his body with exercises whenever he rested. The slow paced jog started to take up in speed and they took him further and further towards their goal. The Valley of Ending. Thasun¡¯s Master had retired there years ago to fund a sword fighting school.

    He would surely take in the boy. But there were another 65 kilometers of march before the Mountain Pass of Dun¨¦in to the Valley of Ending would lie before them. Luckily the way was mostly flat before one reached the immediate area before the mountain pass and the boy kept pace easily.

    After about an hour, Thasun stopped and took one sword off his back. Without unsheathing it he started to fulfill his usual sword exercises to further tire himself out.

    Ollowyn ,however, was again puzzled to see his pack leader acting strangely. He ran so slowly, only to stop and whirl around with his metal claws for no apparent reason? It looked impressive, yes, but the boy saw no reason to do so. Was this a mating ritual? It would be much easier to just bring the female prey. Everyone in his old pack had done so. Maybe the pack leader was dumb? Bored he sat down in the grass next to the road and watched.

    But it took seemingly forever! When Ollowyn wanted to finally lie down and sleep, the pack leader stored the claw away on his back and continued. This time he ran much faster, very much to the boys enthusiasm. With the pace doubled he was just able to keep up with Thasun. Usually he fell behind his own pack whenever they were running at elevated speed, but here he was able to keep up! They ran until deep night had come only to fall behind his pack leader as he raised the speed again for some time.

    Then there was another pause. The pack leader practiced with his metal claw again and Ollowyn wasted no time to lie down and sleep. Thasun, however, was very impressed with him. A child, not even ten years of age, running nearly thirty kilometers in a pace that would have been impossible for most adults, that was just amazing. That incredible stamina paired with his strength and made Thasun think for a second that he really was a demonic child. The thought amused him.

    The next day, Ollowyn woke him early. ¡°Here, Rahbbit. Food. You eat first?¡±

    Thasun rose tiredly and blinked a few times as he saw the freshly killed rabbits. Their tiny necks were broken. Apparently the boy was far more refined at taking care of himself than he had assumed.

    ¡°Well done. We will cook them.¡±

    Ollowyn tilted his head again. ¡°Cook?¡±

    ¡°Look and pay attention. I want you to learn.¡± Thasun drew a knife and cut the rabbit open quickly to dispose of the innards before he skinned the bunny with q few quick cuts and a strong pull. Which apparently had been the most interesting thing the boy had ever seen.

    Excitedly he clapped his hands as he awed at the fur free rabbit. ¡°Hahah! Cook good! Cook good!¡±

    Thasun shook his head. ¡°Not cooking. It¡¯s skinning the rabbit. Now we will cook, just wait.¡±

    Ollowyn tilted his head again to observe. When the swordsman lit a fire with two stones and dry wood, however, he panicked again. Fire was unnatural to him. It took a few minutes to calm him down and explain that the fire was not bad.

    After grilling one rabbit and devouring it, they added the second to their rations and left for the road again. In slow paced jog the surrounding grassland slowly turned into a densely grown mixed forest. The path was still the same dusty country road, but now it was riddled with deep roots, cast by the surrounding trees. A big wagon would have its trouble to pass easily.

    Before that dusty road could elevate towards the Mountain Pass of Dun¨¦i, two men appeared at a curve a little down the road. Both wore swords on their sides in similar clothing to Thasun¡¯s. He slowed down to a slow stride and strapped his swords to his side again. Ollowyn felt a change in his new pack leader. He practically shone with anticipation and was ready to fight.

    The two swordsman stopped about ten meters away from them and Thasun did as well.

    ¡°Where are you going, swordsman?¡±, one of them asked.

    Thasun rested his right hand on his sword handle and eyed them both. ¡°Past you. To the sword fighting school of the great Ritto Iordai.¡±

    The men briefly looked at each other. ¡°Heh. Great Swordmaster? Please. Which truly great sword school refuses challengers? I just can¡¯t understand how our lord can accept such a coward in his service. The man must have gotten too old to fight, huh? Truly laughable.¡±

    Thasun smiled a dark and evil smile. Nobody would ever insult his master and live to tell the tale. Noone. ¡°You will get your challenge.¡±

    With a sharp -click- he slowly unsheathed his sword. Ollowyn stepped back in fear. The aura fe felt while standing right next to his pack leader was murderous¡­

 Chapter 2

    Ollowyn wanted to get ready to fight as well. To fight for his pack, that was self evident for him. But Thasun shoved him aside and ordered him to sit down at the edge of the road. He wanted to take this fight alone. Curious, yet still concerned, the boy sat down on a fallen tree trunk and observed.

    ¡°Do you wish to fight against me at the same time, or should I kill you one after another?¡± Thasun asked with a cocky grin.

    The younger of the two swordsmen, a man with a short beard and a scar on his forehead, drew his weapon. It was a dark Katana, clearly forged of Duraksteel. Only a slight gleam of blue and white lines showed where the steel has been folded again and again. A expensive sword. For Ollowyn, however, the blade only looked beautiful and dangerous. Since the boy had no notion of economics or weapons at all.

    Thasun tilted his head a little in admiration. ¡°Neat little sword you got there. May I take it from your dead body? Or do you want to pass it on to someone?¡±

    His opponent laughed. ¡°My name is Rothar Lindan and if you are able to kill me and my brother Koltor, who is even more talented than I am, you may have it. I have no heir.¡±

    Ollowyn watched as Thasun nodded at his resolved opponent and drew his own katana. The weapon was forged from common steel.

    The brother stepped back a few feet to give the to warriors their fighting space. Common courtesy, yet Ollowyn found it strange. Why did they not fight as a team? As a pack, like logic demanded?

    But the aura that emitted from the impending fight had something mystical. Sublimity. It was the first time the boy would observe a true swordsman fight and he hoped that Thasun would not lose. He liked his new pack leader, after all.

    Rothar occupied a raised position, with his hands tightly gripping his sword, raised high over his head. He anticipated his opponent¡¯s attack. Thasun however carried his katana in his right hand, the blade hovering only a handbreadth above the ground.

    ¡°Ready?¡± Thasun inquired.

    ¡°Ready.¡± With both fighter¡¯s acknowledgement the duell began.

    Thasun let his body keel over and crossed the distance towards his opponent with a sharp dash, so fast, that Ollowyn was taken by surprise. The steelsword shot upwards in perfect motion and impacted with the descending Duraksteel katana of Rothar.

    A sharp metallic noise resounded through the forest as both blades were pushed away from each other a few centimeters, impact leaving a deep notch in the steel sword.

    ¡°Tch.¡± Thasun hissed, apparently unsatisfied, and jumped back to reposition.

    Ollowyn was surprised that his pack leader was even able to counter a two handed attack with only his right. This time Thasun raised the weapon to shoulder height, in stabbing position. He did not waste any time and dashed for another attack.

    The dark sword was driven down again, this time Thasun evaded with a sidestep to the right. He leaned in to grab Rothar¡¯s wrists with his left Hand, while is right brought the sword in for a stab. Rothar however did not remain idle. He brought his knee up to kick Thasun¡¯s left arm and the resulting turning motion denied a deadly blow.

    Still, the blade found its way deep into the upper arm of his opponent. The knee blow however was not enough to loosen Thasun¡¯s iron grip, who brought his left foot laterally at the knee of Rothar. As the only foot remaining on the ground it broke in twisting motion under the impact and body weight of its owner. While he fell, Thasun repositioned, pulled his sword out of the upper arm and brought it down on him with a heavy, two handed strike. It broke through the ribcage and sunk in deep into Rothar¡¯s thorax.

    The whole fight had barely lasted for twenty seconds and a dying Rothar lied on the ground.

    ¡°Urgh.¡± He panted tiredly before he continued with his last strength. ¡°E-End it. It was a h-honor fighting you!¡±

    Thasun stepped over him and sunk the tip of his blade deep into the heart of his opponent that made his last breath.

    His brother, Koltor showed a pained facial expression. ¡°Rest in peace, brother.¡±

    Then his face darkened and he glared at Thasun. ¡°He always fought in my stead to prove himself. Even though he was weaker than me. Yet I can¡¯t claim that I was prepared for his death in the slightest¡­¡±

    Koltor drew his own Katana. Also forged of duraksteel. A rich family. Thasun wasted no time and attacked. It appeared obvious that his opponent was ready, as he assumed the same stance his brother had. Again the two blades clashed as the dark weapon descended upon the rising steel blade. A heavy impact later another notch was visible on Thasun¡¯s weapon. If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.

    This time, however, the fight lasted considerably longer. He was able to evade the downward motion of Koltor, as he had with his brother, yet his footwork proved too much to get into grabbing or stabbing position easily, before he fell back to his sword-held-high base stance.

    Stabs were deflected in the same fashion as blows, knocked down from above it destroyed every attack. More and more dents and notches formed in the front third of Thasun¡¯s steel katana. Until the inevitable happened. The front part split off and shot past Koltors face, leaving only a bloody stream on his left cheek.

    However, Thasun did not surrender at all. His face was calm and serene and only a slight smile showed that he enjoyed the bout. ¡°Hahaha. You really are more talented than your brother. But say, you wanted to challenge the sword fighting school of Ritto Iordai, didn¡¯t you?¡±

    Thasun made a quick dashing sidestep forward and hit his enemy with all his power. The now shortened sword impacted the descending black duraksteel katana and drove his opponent back a few steps.

    Having completely overwhelmed his opponent for a moment a dark and sinister grin showed on Thasun¡¯s face. ¡°First Style. Iordai Kordu¨ª.¡±

    Koltor held his katana defensively again and waited alerted for the next attack. Again Thasun attacked in his usual upwards motion. But before the two blades contacted, he suddenly stood much closer to Koltor, driving the tip of his blade against the descending swords handle.

    The attack from the side blew the black sword away, resulting in a large opening in Koltor¡¯s stance. A resulting quick backhand stroke against him was inevitable. Jumping back the now shortened steel sword ripped through his nasal bone, tore into his cheek and exited again, leaving him just barely alive.

    ¡°Gah!¡± With a wide strike he tried to keep Thasun away, but the swordmaster had not pursued to end the fight.

    ¡°Impressive. I was hardly able to follow that movement. A impressive sidestep, indeed.¡± Koltor spoke, while flinching in pain.

    And much less he could have blocked such a move. But this thought Koltor kept to himself. ¡°Truly, I see now why Ritto Iordai is still holding such a high position after all these years.¡±

    He raised his sleeve to soak up the blood that oozed off the wound. Taking a few deep breaths he straightened his back. ¡°I will carry this wound with honor, should I survive. Show me another style of the great master. Please!¡± His gaze full of determination.

    Thasun smiled, almost happily. ¡°Respectful now, huh? That¡¯s good.¡±

    He raised his sword behind his body. Again the blade hovered only a handbreadth over the ground. ¡°Second Style. Iordai Zenzen.¡±

    He was still five meters away from Koltor, yet he already jumped forward with a deep step and fell to his left knee as he let his katana rush forward. Still four meters away. A attack into the void. For a moment Koltor made a dumbfounded face, then a gentle blow of wind ripped open his right shoulder, tore slightly less deep into his thorax and left a small cut on his left hand. Koltor fell to his knees is pain and then collapsed backwards.

    Thasun stood up and strode forward towards his now crippled opponent. ¡°Iordai teaches forgiveness in reason. I will overlook your transgressions and insults. You will likely survive this.¡±

    Then he stooped down to pick up the black katana and bandaged the bleeding areas. ¡°Whenever others ask, tell them of the greatness our school possessed. Too many throw their lives away whenever they underestimate or judge over us lightly¡­¡±

    Koltor was still shocked. ¡°W-What. How? How is this possible?¡±

    ¡°Hahaha. Come Ollowyn. We are leaving.¡± Thasun laughed.

    The boy however showed a curious face. The fight had fascinated him. Thasun had to smirk. He had been like that once a long time ago as well. He knew the blade would call to the boy now. This kind of obsession was hard to suppress. Ollowyn stepped closer to the dead Rothar. He took the dark katana and the sheath and observed the weapon.

    What would the boy do now? Thasun eyed him thoughtfully, while the boy strapped the far too large sword sheath to his right hip. Then he raised to sword with one hand and held it behind his body. Iordai Zenzen? Thasun wanted to step in instinctively, but curiosity held him back. There was no way the boy could... right? The focused gaze in Ollowyn¡¯s eyes however encouraged him to observe.

    Then the boy brought the blade forward in perfect motion with a speed that matched Thasun¡¯s own. The base technique, fulfilled to perfection, with every motion being a work of art, the child landed elegantly on his left knee. It was impressive that Ollowyn was able to imitate Thasun so completely after only seeing it once. But then something happened that Thasun would have never expected in his wildest dreams.

    A force of wind pushed past him and ripped a deep scar in the base of a large acorn tree trunk. Almost four centimeters deep.

    Such a attack would have killed or at least mortally wounded a human person. The child was a natural. No. A genius that appears only once every one hundred years. ¡°Is he actually a demon?¡± Thasun thought. A shiver ran through his body.

    ¡°Aaaah! Aaargh! Aah!¡± screamed Ollowyn.

    He had imitated the attack of his pack leader, like he had done every time back when he was still with his family. Learning so he could fight for a higher rank. This time however there was intense pain when he tried to stand up. A indescribable sting shot from his leg throughout his back into his arms. His entire body hurt incredibly.

    Immediately Thasun was over him. Ollowyn¡¯s body cramped and waves of pain drew through his body again. What was that? It hurt so much! His pack leader looked at him with a grim expression.

    ¡°Thought so. Too good to be true, huh? Should have stopped you from doing that.¡± He looked apologetically . ¡°Sorry in advance.¡±

    Then he rammed the hilt of his katana to the temple of Ollowyn. Everything went dark.

    Hours later the kid regained consciousness. His legs were bound together in a improvised stretcher that got dragged along the dusty road by Thasun that was not far steeper than before. Another wave of cramps and pain shot through his body and dragged him back to darkness.

    This time he did not wake up under the open sky. He woke in a slightly darkened room, a older lady sat besides his bed, wrapping something cold around his legs. It felt good. A little relaxed he grit his teeth and sunk back. For the first time in his life he lied on something strangely soft.

    It remembered him a little on the warm fur of his foster mother, on which he had fallen asleep countless times. Only far softer and it did not smell of wolf. Ollowyn missed that. Still that memory triggered sleep and led him into the land of dreams.

    He dreamed of the events that took place the last few days. Especially yesterday had left a lasting impression. As a member of a wolf pack he had killed before, ripped into warm flesh with his teeth to quell his hunger, they even killed a lonely hunter in a frosty winter night to survive. But this new way of fighting, this way of proving one''s strength and skill? This was new.

    Ollowyn wanted to know what it meant to be strong. Could be fight those warriors too? Carry a blade that skillfully? He had tried. Again and again the moment resounded in his head, when he held the duraksteel katana. The shimmering black weapon that screamed to him to be used. How he imitated the attack his pack leader had used earlier and how he had crippled himself that way.

    What would he have to do to be strong enough to use such a skill? The need to improve, to learn and to prove himself, got stronger and stronger as the events unfolded again and again within his dreams.

 Chapter 3

    Ollowyn¡¯s injuries had healed over the last few weeks. But while his physical wounds were all but gone, Thasun had scarred him emotionally. The pack leader, that he respected so much, had left him behind, just like that!

    First Ollowyn had believed the word ¡°I will be back, wait here for me.¡±, but the behavior of the other humans had made it clear that would not be the case for a long time.

    After days of waiting and realising that he had been left here, Ollowyn had looted his comfortable sleeping spot and moved out of the house. A wooden shack at the edge of the estate served now as his shelter. Some of the humans had tried to convince him to move back in, but Ollowyn enjoyed to sleep under the open sky whenever the opportunity presented itself and loved to feel the wind in his hair while sleeping.

    The pack that lived in this huge house was odd. Every day teenagers and young adults, that were all clad in the same white robes, left the estate to run and return with all sorts of things. Some applied themselves as craftsmen and fixed holes in the roofs or the paved paths that led through the large garden and connected the six large buildings. Everything was protected by a surrounding, three meter tall stone wall that resembled the walls of a fortress.

    Every evening the pack either increased the size of the wall by adding material, started working on foundations for watchtowers or simply added in beauty by carving drawings into the wall. Ollowyn usually left the estate as early as possible to hunt before sunrise. If he caught too much game, he left the bigger part of his prey at the door of the pack leader. Mainly to be on good terms and to keep his sleeping spot, as he was not a member of their pack.

    Every day he remembered and reiterated the teachings that Thasun had left him. The language, every word that he knew and even the sword fighting techniques that he was able to remember. Well, all but the styles of master Iordai. Those were too dangerous for him and he would not dare try them again. He would risk truly crippling himself otherwise.

    While striving through the woods, he used branches and sticks that resembled the weight and size of a katana. First he noticed that using such a weapon for extended durations of time was harder than he had thought. Even his robust hands gained callus. Although he had used them to handle rough work all his life he was not spared from this experience.

    After practicing the forms and movements he remembered for hours and hours, he transitioned to use the sticks on something solid. Ollowyn noticed that it was far harder and required much more skill than he had initially thought. While hitting air, he may have used his muscles but it was in no way comparable to a situation where every hit sent a sharp sting down his arm once his stick hit the target.

    His target being a young oak tree about a meter in width. And even though pain soon crawled up in his arms to stay, he continued. After many days and hundreds of hundreds of broken tree branches that he had shattered on the tree, his target fell victim to the continued abuse.

    It was very satisfying to have brought down the tree all by himself. It invigorated him and with the feeling that he had gotten stronger, Ollowyn decided to return to the pack he lived with. He wanted to challenge them. Wanted to know the current location of his pack leader to track him down alone.

    After all, who could teach him if not Thasun? Maybe the humans would know where he was? Ollowyn climbed the Wall casually using rifts and the irregularities between the stones, that made the wall more of a decoration that an actual obstacle.

    On top of the wall he looked over the estate again. Five of the buildings seemed rather silent and abandoned, while muffled noises resounded from the central building. Ollowyn had only entered one of the buildings before and only when he had been treated for his injuries. It would be the first time for him to enter one freely. What were they doing in there anyway?

    After jumping off the wall, rolling off the ground in a singular fluid motion he crossed the garden and spotted something that let his heart beat faster: two of the teenagers entered the building with swordlike sticks!

    Did Thasun teach some of the people here as well? Maybe they would teach him something? To help him improve? Ollowyn wanted to study and learn as much as possible to be able to fight as well as his pack leader had.

    But a nagging thought in the back of his head appeared. Why only learn? Why not fight and study them that way? In his first pack and former family, he had fought constantly to maintain his rank and position within the pecking order. Yes, he would do that.

    When he strode towards the entry however, he realised that a thin wall of wood and paper blocked his entry. Ollowyn did not have the slightest clue, as to how he could enter the building. Pushing slightly revealed that it was not the sturdiest of barriers, so he decided to just rip through the paper and enter there. He tore at it and a second later the opening was big enough for him to fit through, so he entered happily.

    Only to be stared at by dozens of puzzled and confused faces. The large hall, entirely built of wood, was full of teenagers, young adults and swordsmen. Every single one of them carried a bamboo sword.

    Ollowyn¡¯s instincts told him that he should run away. But at the same time this feeling got him excited. He wanted to fight. Fight like his pack leader had done. If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

    Quickly one of the older men was next to him and shouted at him. ¡°Why are you destroying the sliding door? Huh? What were you thinking?¡±

    Ollowyn thought a lot of things, but he did not really understand the question and what was a sliding door?

    Since it was even harder to speak than to understand the language, he decided to make it short: ¡°Fighting?¡±

    He raised his ¡°wooden sword¡± that was more of a tree branch without leaves than anything else.

    The man, that lacked any sort of fur or hair on his head, eyed him sceptically. ¡°Not like that, boy.¡± He sighed. ¡°Follow me.¡±

    Ollowny was happy that he was able to convey the meaning of his visit and tagged along. In a small dressing room next door his linen shirt was taken from him. He really hoped that he would get it back later. It was his and Thasun had gifted it to him!

    ¡°Huh. Could have sworn you were dirtier days ago. Did you bath?¡±

    Ollowyn growled at the word, in the hope the topic would be dropped quickly. The boy had noticed that if he just jumped in the local river, the other humans would never try to bath him in that disgusting smelly water.

    The man sighed. ¡°Alright, alright. Here. Put these on.¡±

    Ollowny was handed a white robe, like those the other students were wearing and eyed carefully before he was handed a bamboo sword that fit his size.

    Happily Ollowyn gave away his own ¡°sword¡± and put on the clothes. They felt weird, but even though they pinched a bit, especially on his legs where he was not used to wear anything, it was not bad. His movement was not constricted much and even though he would rather not wear anything at all, the pack here for some reason were very strict on that so it would keep their nagging off his back now. Maybe they would even stop trying to bath him forever?

    Silently he followed the bald man back towards the training hall, where all the students were sitting silently with closed eyes.

    ¡°Sit down here. Since it is your first day, I will teach you how to meditate.¡±

    Ollowyn tilted his head. Whatever madi-medida- .. that was, it didn¡¯t look like it would be helpful? ¡°Fighting.¡± He said again, raising his bamboo sword.

    A few students eyes him interestedly. Apparently he had left a lasting impression.

    Ollowyn stared around the group, where everyone was significantly older than him. Would someone here fight him?

    The bald man sighed. ¡°Ah, well. Alright. Mephian! Come over.¡±

    A boy, approximately thirteen years of age, rose and stepped towards them. His dark, black hair right next to Ollowyn made them look like exact opposites were it not for the fact that Ollowyn was much smaller. Light and Shadow.

    ¡°Yes, master Zartha?¡± he said.

    The bald man eyed the boy strictly. ¡°You will have a spar with him. Test his abilities so I can gauge how far along he is. Don¡¯t destroy him quickly and methodically like you were taught to. He is a beginner.¡±

    ¡°Yes, master.¡±

    Ollowyn had not understood most of their conversation. But this would clearly be his opponent. One that he was allowed to fight. That was all he needed to know. The boy showed a cocky grin, like Thasun had done so often before a fight. Did he teach that boy too?

    Ollowny nodded politely and distanced himself a few steps before raising his bamboo sword. It was much lighter than the ones he had trained with in the forest.

    However that did not mean that being hit by this weapon was not going to hurt. His opponent also nodded to signal his readiness. Ollowyn did, what his pack leader had always done. He attacked without any hesitation. With a quick dash forward he brought his blade from the bottom towards the body of his opponent. Who playfully deflected.

    Puzzled Ollowyn tried again only to have the scenario repeat. Why was he not able to hit him?

    A third time he returned to his original position and brought his entire body weight behind his attack, carefully observing. Another easy deflection, but this time he caught the problem. Mephian used a style very similar to his own. His weapon was also led from below, which made it far easier to deflect Ollowyns attack towards the upper right or left side.

    ¡°Haha, good. Good!¡± Ollowyn exclaimed in joy. He learned something new, just as he had hoped.

    Mephian eyed him with a frown, while Ollowyn imitated Thasun¡¯s stabbing stance, that had burned itself into his mind. The following dash he had practiced hundreds of times and he executed it flawlessly. Only to have his opponent counter him with a dash of himself.

    Mephian¡¯s bamboo sword hit him painfully in the middle of his face. The impact made Ollowyn stagger backwards. A follow up strike against his right shin twisted his stance and made him fall.

    He reacted instinctively and raised his sword to intercept a strike from above. That never came. In exchange the bamboo sword was led with full force in stabbing motion against his thorax. Angry about his own failings Ollowyn hit his opponent''s sword away and tried to attack again. A multitude of strikes rained down on him while he stood up. He attacked weakly and disorientated as well as clouded by his anger.

    His face began to swell up, he was not able to see anymore. A state that Mephian relentlessly abused. Ollowyn soon realized that every motion he made, brought new openings that his opponent could exploit. Another thing he learned. The anger subsided and he focused.

    Defense¡­ Yes. He mimicked Koltor¡¯s defensive position, since he had never seen Thasun showcase any. The sword raised above his head he waited.

    When the bamboo sword hit the blind Ollowyn on the top of his head again, he grit his teeth, stepped forward and brought his own weapon down with all his might at the position he assumed Mephian in. And his tactic worked. The bamboo swords collided above his opponents head. Blocked. Mephian was really quick. But he did not have the strength that Ollowyn had trained for all this time. ¡°Urgh!¡± He groaned, before Ollowyn brought him to his knees and the sword knocked him out with a hard hit.

    Then Ollowyn¡¯s already impaired vision faded even more. He had been hit too much. But he had beat that boy. Smiling, he did not notice anymore that master Zartha caught him falling.

    --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

    Zartha never had seen such immense talent. The boy, that Thasun had brought back, was able to use the broad strokes of the Iordai fighting style without being trained in them at all. Even Mephian, a quite talented child was only able to use them after years of training and repetition. Not to mention that he had been knocked out by a single, powerful strike. That had been blocked. Such power in such a young child!

    Zartha moved to kneel in front of the sanctum and groveled. ¡°Great master. We have indeed received a very promising student. Master Torr¨¦i has reported this already I presume?¡±

    The great master said something and handed a scroll with instructions to Zartha. The bald man made a concerned face. ¡°Are you certain, great master? Certainly master Torr¨¦i had different-¡±

    With another order he was silenced and he took the scroll.

    ¡°Forgive my insolence. I did in no way intend to question your wisdom, great Master.¡± Then master Zartha left the sanctum.

    The thought that the old man was gradually getting more senile, stayed with him for the rest of the evening. Thoughtfully he eyed the small shack, in which he had brought the little genius to sleep. Poor Ollowyn, he thought.

 Chapter 4

    Marun K¨ªreii, second master of the Iordai Clan, eyed the written order of the great master critically. ¡°Is he serious with this?¡±, he inquired.

    Master Zartha nodded. ¡°It will be¡­ interesting.¡±

    Marun massaged his temples. ¡°You mean it will be interesting for you to watch?¡±

    A wide grin opened on Zartha¡¯s face. ¡°Naturally. They will beat each other up. For months on end. Only¡­ the reason for the whole thing still eludes me. Master Iordai has a lot of faith in the boy. To even go that far...¡±

    Marun freed his sword from its sheath and eyed the weapon pensively. Then he began to polish the spotless blade with a fine cloth. His long, blond braid swayed behind his back while doing so.

    ¡°He will have his reasons. The child is only seven years old. Beats one of our students that is six years older. That had two years of training as well. Without being trained I might add. We will see, really.¡± Zartha glaced towards the third master of the Iordai Clan. ¡°What do you think?

    Karthan Cr¡¯Axsun eyed him with deep blue eyes and stroked his brown full beard. ¡°..Yes.¡±

    Marun rolled his eyes. ¡°Of course. Whatever. I relied the order to the craftsman in the village.

    We should receive them soon.¡±

    Karthan looked up. ¡°We should receive them tomorrow. I told them it is important.¡±

    Marun sighed. ¡°You were there? Flirting with his daughter again, hm?¡±

    After hearing her mentioned Karthan drifted his gaze towards the ceiling.

    ¡°He did.¡± Spoke the other two masters in unison. ¡°Then we will begin tomorrow with the student rankings and one of us will explain the situation to Ollowyn. We need to teach him what numbers are after all. We will be busy for that day¡­¡±

    Marun stored his freshly polished sword away again and sunk back onto the wooden planks of the training hall. ¡°By the way¡­ Should we have the fights take place outside? Some weather could be interesting too, since you fight while it¡¯s raining more often than you would think.¡±

    ¡°Sure. Imagine there is a storm and snow and they have to fight outside cause the boy challenges them. Haha. I would be so pissed off.¡± Zartha laughed.

    Marun frowned however. ¡°We will be too, if they challenge us later. Urgh. I hate fighting in the rain. Especially when it¡¯s for training.¡±

    Karthan freed himself from his dreamworld and contributed to the conversation. ¡°Ah, by the way. The great master has ordered us on guard duty for the time being. Something spooked him, I think.¡±

    Marun sighed. ¡°Again? Does he want to punish us?¡±

    Karthan shrugged. ¡°Thasun was forced to do that for weeks, because he got drunk all the time. Did you guys do something?¡±

    The three eyed each other with puzzled faces. ¡°Last time we had guard duty, we caught some students sneaking out into the village to meet girls. The master will have his reasons... Anyway. Let¡¯s give them the message and explain things.¡±

    Four hours later all the students had finished their daily work duties were neatly lined up in the training hall for Marun¡¯s speech.

    ¡°Bow!¡± The students did as they were told. ¡°Greet and sit.¡± Nearly forty students moved in unison and raised their fist onto their chests as a greeting before they sat down. ¡°You all have received at least two years of training within the Iordai Sword Fighting School. Tomorrow morning you will receive a wooden badge. On this badge your rank within the clan will be engraved.¡±

    Excited whispers went through the students.

    ¡°Silence!¡±, shouted Karthan firmly. ¡°And listen.¡± As they calmed down Marun continued. ¡°You all can challenge for a higher rank and fight others. A challenge can be issued by anyone that is of lower rank and has to be accepted. The fights will take place outside on the duelling grounds.¡±

    Again discussions started within the students. They were excited since they hardly ever knew who was the strongest within their ranks.

    ¡°The challenges will be fought with Gao-ni-dai rules. Whoever leaves the ring effectively surrenders. Obvious killing blows will be judged by a third person and wounding blows have to be treated accordingly. If someone for example hits your left hand you cannot use it anymore.¡± Marun urged them to be quiet again before he continued.

    ¡°You all know the rules. I don¡¯t want to see dishonorable behaviour. Every six days we will determine your ranking and see who improved and who did not. Those who got worse in rank or stagnated, will receive extra training hours!¡±

    Now the students could hardly contain their agitation anymore.

    ¡°Self study from today onwards. Tomorrow we will begin with the fights, after you have received your badges. Begin.¡±

    The disciples rose in unison again, bowed and then formed groups to speak with each other.

    This new form of learning was not something that could often be observed within the Iordai clan. They were rather strict in their teachings and pounded that wisdom into their students at every opportunity to prevent them forming lesser and weaker styles. After all the fame of the Iordai clam was dependent on their performance once the students graduated and served as soldiers, bodyguards or teachers within the Zenshin Dynasty. Love this story? Find the genuine version on the author''s preferred platform and support their work!

    The three masters did never question the decision of their leader. For them the great masters word was absolute law. No king or emperor could ever order them to work against his interests or make them refuse a command that came from the great Ritto Iordai himself. Marun would also ensure that Ollowyn would reach his limits tomorrow, so that he would not grow cocky too soon.

    ¡°Irto!¡±, he called out to his best disciple, giving him the special orders.

    He would take the lowest rank by choice so he could show the new boy that this would not be easy.

    It was important for Ollowyn to learn respect, not only to his masters but also towards his peers. Pride was a bad teacher and the great master had chosen the boy for a reason.

    He wanted to form him, so that he would grow into someone that could inherit the clan in a few years. At least, that was what Marun assumed.

    Ritto Iordai hardly ever shared his thoughts with his master disciples.

    The next day Ollowyn woke with his face slightly in pain. It was still swollen, but he had not sustained any lasting injuries from his fight with Mephian. Besides, he was used to his body aching. Running through the woods to hunt resulted in small scratches and bruises all the time. No matter how much it hurt, Ollowyn always kept going.

    Before the sun could even rise, he had already hunted down breakfast in the woods. A young bunny, that had been careless in the morning twilight, was quickly grilled on a fire and eaten. Strengthened and highly motivated, he returned to his sleeping spot, grabbed the bamboo sword and went straight for the training hall.

    To his excitement many of the other students were already practicing and a few were even fighting in the duelling grounds outside. A wave of motivation had hit the place as everyone seemed eager to prove themselves. It didn¡¯t take long for a master to appear in front of Ollowyn.

    ¡°Fighting!¡±, he called out to him with a beaming smile. But Karthan Cr¡¯Axsun did not share his enthusiasm.

    He forced him to spend hours inside of a different room, studying a thing called numbers. Ollownys head started to hurt from all the thinking in this confined space.

    Why couldn¡¯t they do this outside? It took six hours and he was really glad once it was over. Luckily all this studying seemed like it was not for nothing.

    He received a small wooden badge, where the number forty-two was engraved. Karthan explained the system and how he had to fight his way up to the top.

    Ollowyn was quite certain that he wouldn¡¯t have understood anything if it hadn¡¯t been for the earlier lessons...

    Determined to learn new techniques, happy that he was allowed to fight and eager to prove his power, he challenged an older student that carried the badge with number forty-one.

    At first Ollowyn was weirded out by the fact that this young adult was supposed to be the weakest member of the pack.

    But he soon realised that his assumption was simply not true. He was faster, stronger and more precise in his attacks and movements and hit harder.

    A lot harder.

    Luckily it was only one single blow that he received from Irto each fight. Because of the Gao-ni-dai ruling, hits that would be lethal with a real sword, ended the duel instantly.

    It was something that Ollowyn came to appreciate quickly. He realised the skill his opponent had and fought with more respect. He tried to minimize his mistakes and attempted again and again to get blows in.

    Sadly not a single attack hit Irto even slightly. Every single sidestep or dash was anticipated and punished with a stab or blow that Ollowyn had not seen coming.

    Every defensive posture was bypassed. Every feint looked through.

    But no matter how often Ollowyn was hit and went down, he stood up again and again.

    Even when he switched to blocking the hits of his opponent, rather than foolishly rushing in, after every hit another followed that he could not defend.

    Irto smashed the bamboo sword into his side again, while Ollowyn¡¯s weapon swung harmlessly past his opponents body. Groaning he went down on his knee and gasped for air.

    ¡°One hundred and three times. Surrender. I am tired of kicking you into the dust.¡± Irto said with an annoyed frown.

    But Ollowyn was not even thinking about it. Again he rose. ¡°I hereby challenge you, forty one!¡± He spoke the usual words weakly, before taking posture.

    A light step forward, the sword held high before a silent and lightning fast blow hit him hard against the left upper arm.

    Ollowyn let go of his weapon with the left immediately and let it go limb. Then he tried to attack with his right. Two hard blows to the left side of his head threw him back towards the stone floor of the duelling grounds.

    He wanted to rise again, yet his arms and legs did not respond to his demands.

    ¡°Finally enough, huh?¡± Irto rubbed some sweat off his forehead before he ordered two onlookers to bring the boy to bed.

    Ollowyn was barely conscious. Over twenty students had silently watched the fights and stood about with impressed faces.

    Irto rubbed his stinging hands. He was seventeen years old, had trained for six whole years and yet he felt awkwardly weak. It had taken him 104 fights to force the boy to surrender, the power he radiated was immense. Whenever Ollowyn had parried or blocked one of his attacks, it had felt like hitting a anvil with his sword. The pain had crept all the way up to his shoulder.

    And then there was this iron will and determination, that just did not fit a seven year old at all. It sent shivers up Irto¡¯s spine.

    He was glad that he would now be allowed to challenge for higher ranking. It would give him a break from this unceasing child. Irto longed for a pause.

    He would leave it to the brawling idiots that relished for a good fight, like Wardun and Grish.

    Meanwhile Ollowyn was placed between his sheets. The soft bedding of his sleeping spot promised relief. Never before had he been so happy! He had not hit a single time! How would it be to be strong, like this student? With every passing minute his agitation rose and he found no sleep this night. The thought that others were training, while he remained idle was ever present in his head.

    So he ran in his thoughts. He ran with his sword. Executed sword figures in full charge. Recalled the movements his opponent had made inside his head. Thought of his own mistakes. Played through ideas for new attacks. Next time he wanted to at least hit him!

    But to Ollowyn¡¯s disappointment, the next day it was not Irto that held the badge with the longed for number forty-one. That day he achieved his first victory in the Iordai clan. Only to realise that his new and higher position brought the fate of having to defend it against the very student he had just taken it from. Again and again he was challenged and had not time to long for number forty.

    It would be hard to rise higher. Every single one he had beaten would return again and again to take what he had and what he fought for. The further he rose, the more students were challenging him for his badge.

    To Ollowyn... it was paradise.

    ~~~~~~

    Master Zartha eyed the trainings bouts thoroughly. ¡°The boy is truly astonishing. He does not doubt his way. Tries to fight again and again, no matter how often he is beaten down. As if he only knew how to rise.¡±

    Master Marun nodded. ¡°It is incredible. I have observed him over the last few days. He is testing new tactics and styles and improves himself after every loss. After the fights he trains. Early in the morning¡­ he trains. Without rest.¡±

    Karthan snorted. ¡°Seven years old! It is creepy, really. Thasun really has brought a beast back home. Did you tell any of you where he had found it?¡±

    The other two masters shook their heads. ¡°No. And master Iordai still does not want to tell me why he thinks that we will be attacked soon. Do you think this has something to do with the child? No way, right?¡±

    Marun snorted. ¡°Well, maybe the great master is really getting old¡­ He has not stepped out of the sanctum for weeks. Do you think he is training again? Last time he trashed the place after he was done¡­ It was scary.¡±

    Zartha shrugged. ¡°You both think too much about this. We were ordered to stand guard. We already suspect that the boy has something to do with it, so let¡¯s keep an eye on him? I will pull six of the older students to guard duty as well. One of you just has to watch over Ollowyn.¡±

    Marun gave up trying to get out of his duty. Zartha and Karthan were both too dutyfull and would most likely force him anyway. Sighting he turned to get his armor. He would miss the comfortable trainings robes for the next few hours.

    The suit of armor in the Iordai clan was special. Compared to other armor they only had a black mask forged of durak steel that merely resembled a helmet. Additionally they wore black robes, that looked exactly like their white training gear.

    Only two key differences existed. First off all there was a hood that was always worn with the mask. Secondly there was a chainmail worked into the fabric and the whole outfit was quite a bit heavier than cloth.

    The chainmail ranged down towards their knees. Thereafter followed leg protectors made of blackened common steel with comfortable leather boots. After the three masters were finished dressing they stepped outside into the night and were already completely concealed by darkness.

    For master Marun it wouldn¡¯t be a nice and slow evening though. Ollowyn had just left his sleeping spot to train. It would be a pain to keep track of him all night¡­

 Chapter 5

    Arryn, also called Nightblade, left the border behind himself and with it his home country Valuan. The assassin had chosen a rather inconspicuous set of rags. The beige and brown cloth pieces were dirty and a false, wild beard amplified the suspicion of him being a refugee. Migration towards the north was not unusual in these parts of the Zenshin countryside.

    Again and again deserters that had fled their duty in the Valuan army tried to find a better life up north.

    For Nightblade there were no lower people than deserters. They left their homeland when it most needed them and they were too cowardly to sacrifice their lives. Traitors! He himself would die a thousand deaths and more if it meant that his country would be safe and sound. His disguise was helpful in more than just hiding his identity.

    As he was assumed to be a refugee, he was able to talk to others of ¡°his kind¡± and thus gain their trust. Should they be deserters, he would kill them and claim the bounty on their heads.

    There was a quite large sum of money to be earned with such dangerous work, but the assassin had never much cared for gold. Arryn was a member of the Temple of Order and every piece of the valuable shiny metal was honorably donated to them.

    That also included his assassination orders, for which they were paid rather well. Besides, he had never really had the feeling of wanting to own something.

    If fate decided to let him cross paths with a traitorous deserter, so be it. Otherwise he would not slow down his journey at all. Especially since his client this time was the Ministry of Internal Affairs in Valuan. The highest non-military organisation, with only the emperor himself outranking them.

    First he would meet up with the informant. While killing was the main thing Arryn was tasked with, nothing worked without the basics principles of his line of work. Preparation. Information Gathering. Risk Assessment. It did not serve anyone if Arryn was unaware of the targets whereabouts or how well protected it was.

    Even worse was when he chose a bad time or place for his attack or his clients were left in the dark for most of his operations. It did not take long and he arrived at his goal.

    Zenshin had been allied to Valuan for nearly six hundred years now and the border patrols where done accordingly. Only two soldiers, stationed at a small guardhouse next to a two story inn. Out of those two guards, there were currently¡­ none present.

    As Arryn had expected. Even if there was one actually doing their job, one could just pass the whole farse by going through the woods about fifteen meters away from the road.

    Nobody would notice. The two soldiers honestly were more of a defensive tool for the inn, rather than the road or god forbid: the border.

    But in this inn, that lies closest to the border, Arryn¡¯s informant waited. A merchant called Faruin C¨¦r-Del¡¯uin, had sent a letter via hawk towards the city Garuyeri.

    The soldiers in this most northern city of Valuan, had tasked a rider to deliver it to the Ministry of Internal Affairs. The hawks that were used for letters up north, sadly did not fly south so they had to use a rider or ship, depending on the weather.

    Weeks later, the message had finally reached the hands of Jarya Zhulan, Minister of Internal Affairs in Antalia. The old noble nearly had a heart attack when he read of the bad news. Immediately he issued an order to assassinate the problem child and sent for the best killer the Temple of Order had to offer: Arryn Nightblade. Never before had there been such a dire case in his care, so he naturally feared the worst.

    Within the same hour of receiving the order, Arryn had left the capital after borrowing two Tharken from the royal stables. Those huge battle hounds were far more durable and tenacious than horses were.

    And even though they were unable to carry as much weight, it was still possible to travel fast by switching from one Thark to the other time and time again.

    It was a special privilege, and one that Arryn very rarely had. And he felt a bit sad, ever since he had reached Garuyeri and continued on foot. Passing the border within hours and stepping into the cheap two story inn beyond, he knocked on a door on the second floor. The current location of his informant.

    But instead of him, a very young girl opened. Apparently the man had payed for a bit of ¡°companionship¡±. Disgusting. She was barely ten years old.

    ¡°Good day to you. May I enter? I have urgent business to discuss with mister C¨¦r-Del¡¯uin. You can wait out here in the meantime.¡±

    The girl nodded shyly and stepped outside, while buttoning up her shirt. Arryn felt like he had to throw up, such disgust struck him. He stepped past her inside the room and eyed the half naked man lying on his bed.

    Bandages around his upper body showed the heavy injuries he had sustained on his torso. Broken ribs maybe? When the merchant harshly yelled at him, asking why he intruded, the assassin drew his dagger and was next to the man with a quick dash.

    The blade resting on his throat, he gestured with his forefinger in front of his mouth, ordering him to be silent. ¡°Not a single word. I will ask you some questions now. And you will answer them as honestly and exact as you possibly can. Blink three times. IF. You. Understand.¡±

    Arryn told him coldly. The man obeyed, now a little scared. ¡°The child with the silver-white hair. Who took it? Tell. Me. Everything. You. Know.¡± This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.

    The man gulped. ¡°So-uhm. I... A Man called¡­ called Thasun Torre¨ª had found the child unconscious on the road. I tried to warn him and the other people. Tried to explain what it is. Why it has to die! They did- They did not listen. So I tried to kill the child.

    Honestly I almost succeeded, if it had not been for that swordsman- the one that I told you about, he found the child- he¡­ he attacked me brutally and nearly killed me. I mean look at what he-¡±

    Arryn was able to see the lies in the merchants eyes. Not everything he said was the truth. ¡°You are lying. I can tell. Do that again and I will make you lose a finger!¡± Arryn told him quietly and shot him a glare full of cold and deadly promise.

    The merchant twitched back. ¡°For-forgive me. I- I was¡­ maybe not as brave as I just claimed to¡­ be.¡± He gulped again as the blade was pressed a little harder against his throat.

    ¡°Who is this Thasun Torre¨ª. Did you gather information, as it was your duty to do?¡±

    Quickly Faruin tried to calm the assassin down with information. His answers shot out in quick succession. ¡°Swordsman. Iordai Sword Fighting School. Up north. Valley of Ending.¡±

    Arryn took back a bit of the pressure the blade exerted. North. That meant Zenshin Territory. A diplomatic nightmare. Valuan needed this alliance with the north now more than ever, since the south got more and more unstable. ¡°What else do you know? Does the valley or the school have a special meaning to Zenshin? Are there diplomatic relations?¡±

    The man looked a little overwhelmed. ¡°Uhm. I¡­ It is a sword fighting school, they-they-they train swordsmen. They usually work as soldiers for nobles in Zenshin afterwards. Please! I don¡¯t know anything else! I¡¯m telling the truth!¡±

    But Arryn was not finished. The man was just so useless. Such a filthy, disgusting man. He had not even gathered any information like he was supposed to. ¡°Are you a member of the Iron Guild? Or the Trading Legion?¡±

    Confused the man began to stutter again. ¡°N-N-No. W-What does this have to-to¡­ to do with the child?¡±

    Nothing Arryn thought, before jamming his dagger deep into the man''s throat. Quickly he pulled up the sheets to quiet the gurgling sounds the man began to utter and drew his weapon out of the bleeding wound. Then he proceeded to methodically stab the man into the torso. Left lung, heart, liver and right lung. Then he let go and covered the dying man in his bedsheets.

    A quick search later Arryn was a wallet and a few valuables richer. A big sum, apparently the merchant had been on his way back from a successful journey.

    ¡°The Temple of Order thanks for your patronage.¡±, he spoke quietly. Then he turned to leave the room. But just as he opened the door, the young girl stood in front of him. Arryn eyed her closely. She showcased a very emotionless mask. Did she notice? From the door it should be impossible to see the blood soaked sheets.

    He reached into his pocket, drew a silver coin from the pouch and handed it to the girl. Fear shot in her eyes for a moment, before returning to show an empty mask again.

    Arryn was certain that she suspected him to be another client and that she was just paid by him. Arryn crunched his teeth. Poor thing. ¡°Thank you for your service. He wants to rest now. You may go.¡± Confusion was quickly replaced by a tired smile. Then she turned around wordlessly and left the first floor of the inn.

    This girl was no individual case. It happened far too often, that those rich Valuan merchants indulged in the otherwise forbidden crimes, they did not dare commit at home. Especially they were always accepted happily by the towns and cities they traveled through, since they brought valuable goods and prosperity.

    Officials closing their eyes to such perversions and small crimes to protect the wealth they brought in by trading was common sight. If he had the time, Arryn would burn the whole inn down and he would gladly end the lives of all that had known of this.

    Regretfully he asked the guards downstairs for the way to the Valley of Ending. Towards which he immediately proceeded.

    Should the innkeeper find the corpse, they could only search for a nameless refugee. Refugees that came and went on a frequent basis. If the soldiers cared, that is.

    A random trader, not even member of the merchant guilds. Usually that would not justify an investigation.

    Satisfied about having ended the career of a child abuser, Arryn Nightblade advanced quickly. The weather was steady. With the sun mostly hiding behind the clouds, it was very comfortable to travel. A few days later he reached the mountain pass Dun¨¦in. It was not a steep climb, and not long either unlike other mountain passes. But the ambience made this place something special.

    Two statues had been chiseled into the steep cliffs to each side. Both over twenty meters in height. The two men held their weapons, ready to fight, while staring at each other aggressively. One of the statues missed a part of their shield, the other the head of the axe. The frayed monuments of a long lost time. They were both brothers, heirs to a long forgotten kingdom, that had found its end in the Valley of Ending centuries ago.

    The civil war they both wedged in order to succeed their father had split the opinion of the public and a resulting battle had charged so many deaths, that the kingdom broke shortly afterwards. Hence the name ¡°Valley of Ending¡±.

    They were then attacked by Valuan from the South and Zenshin from the East and completely annexed by them.

    Arryn eyed the worn down stone men and the small ridge that granted access to the valley. It was a place made for ambushes and traps. The assassin thought about all the available information regarding his target. The boy was sheltered within a valley that had only one exit. Additionally he was likely protected by them which meant he would not flee for now.

    All in all it seemed like a good idea to place a trap within pass Dun¨¦in.

    Later he would be able to activate it in a few seconds. Should it be necessary to flee he could shake off anyone that tried to follow him.

    After spending the night next to those two tall monuments, he slowly transcended down towards the valley. Surrounded by dense and huge forests as well as huge mountains, a green and prosperous valles unfolded.

    Wide green grassland was riddled by livestock and a few fields were tended to for grain, vegetables and fruits. It was insane to think, that such a fertile land was hardly used.

    But it was a deceptive peace. A few dozen kilometers up north lied the mountain fortress Than D¨²in. A Stronghold so massive, that no human could even think about conquering it by military means. It was just unheard of. Only a about six meter wide mountain road lead straight towards the gates, where anyone stupid enough to walk in was riddled with arrows, bolts or stones from catapults.

    In addition to that there had been an incident about a hundred years ago. A village on the border of this fortress had vanished overnight, with all their inhabitants gone and the houses reduced to dust. Nobody had been seen ever since.

    And since the valley had no valuable riches beside its soil, the Zenshin kingdom had decreed a stop to settling in that area.

    They viewed it as some sort of buffer area between them and this mysterious stronghold. If a attack from Than D¨²in took place, they would at least have time to react. In Arryn¡¯s mind a bit overly cautious, but he was no king. What did he know?

    As soon as it was possible he switched over into the dense forest. He did not want to be spotted beforehand so he could maintain the momentum of surprise for as long as possible. His disguise as a refugee fell off.

    False beard, dusty and dirty clothes and the unnecessary luggage were places between the roots off a tall tree. Freed from his additional weight, Arryn fell into a slow run, getting closer and closer to the village through the woods.

    Now it was time to spy, find weak spots and to exploit them. With a little bit of luck, he would not have to stay long. His experience however told him that a small village did not have that many weak spots in the first place.

    He would have to plan and investigate thoroughly if he wanted to find the boy and work around his protectors.

    Doubts were foreign to him. He was Arryn Nightblade. The best assassin Valuan had ever seen!

 Chapter 6

    Karthan Cr¡¯Axsun, the fourth master of the Iordai Clan, stood upon the wall that surrounded his home. He looked towards the village and puzzled over how often the great master would have them on guard duty. Nineteen nights in a row had they kept watch over everything. Without special occurrences.

    The worst thing that had happened, was the incident where two foxes had found their way in a henhouse down in the village. But sending two students had fixed that and such a problem one could hardly call special. Since then nothing had happened.

    Karthan was longing to sneak into the village to pay Alissa a visit. The young woman loved him and he loved her.

    In a few days he would ask the great master, if he could be relieved from his duty. Then he would finally be able to ask for her hand in marriage. He would be able to be there for her. Support her. Love her. But this seemingly endless guard duty was apparently very important for master Iordai. Karthan would just not stand for leaving his comrades in such times. There would be more opportunities once this was over.

    Dreamily he recalled the recent evening, where Alissa had visited him here. Under the pretence of having to speak to him about the wooden badges for the students, they had loved each other in the weapon chamber.

    Surrounded by beautiful, cold blades and other weapons that the great master owned, they indulged in each other. Karthan wanted to do that again and again. One word of her and he would lay down his weapon for the rest of his life.

    When he was younger he had always thought, that nothing could ever deter him from his passion. That nothing could ever make him stumble on the way of the sword.

    Day by day he was torn between deserting and serving her for the rest of his life and his honor, duty and the fact that he wanted to protect his students.

    Nervously he fidgeted with the handle of his katana. The dark outlines of the village lay before him. And with them the craftsman''s house. Her house. He played with the thought of asking Marun and Zartha if he could go for a ¡°patrol¡±.

    An hour would have been enough to see her. To feel her. To press his lips on hers and pull her body closer. His body practically ached for this. Tense, he pulled his weapon and executed a few challenging practice strikes to distract himself.

    After some time the blade reflected something. Confused he looked for the origin.

    A light was burning in the village. At this hour? Karthan sheathed his katana and tried desperately to spot something in the darkness. His eyes were not the best. At long distances he was unable to see clearly.

    Karthan decided to call for help. ¡°Marun!¡±

    The second master of the Iordai clan, that had dozed off nearby, leaning on a wall while keeping an eye on Ollowyn, was quickly wide awake. A short sprint of his, a elegant jump followed by a few climbing grabs and he stood next to Karthan on the wall. ¡°What¡¯s up?¡±

    Karthan pointed towards the village. ¡°I have seen a light in the village, can you see someone sneaking around there?¡± Karthan scratched his beard before continuing. ¡°Do you think there are bandits in the valley again?¡±

    Marun stared into the darkness. ¡°Hm. No, bandits wouldn''t get so close or try to break into a house. They mostly steal livestock. But it has been really quiet lately, so that¡¯s unlikely. This light also doesn¡¯t really look like a torch¡­¡±

    Karthan frowned. ¡°What else could it be?¡±

    At that very same moment flames started to penetrate the roof of one of the houses. The craftsman¡¯s house. ¡°Oh shit, fire. A house is burning. Karthan! I will go report this to the great master. Wait here for me!¡±

    Karthan wanted to reply, but Marun had already jumped off the wall and was on his way towards the sanctum. Desperately Karthan stared towards the flickering light in the darkness. Alissa.

    Alissa was still there! What if she still remained in the house? What if something happened to her? Karthan did not want to wait any longer.

    He called Mephian over and ordered the child to take twenty students and get them into the village as quickly as possible to help extinguish the fire. The rest should get ready and wait for Marun¡¯s orders.

    Then Karthan exited the school and started running. He did not wait for Mephian to finish, nor could he leave Alissa alone any longer. She was too important!

    He ran down the path towards the village, hardly able to see anything in this pitch black night. Quickly he was upon the first village. ¡°Fire! It¡¯s burning! Fire!¡±

    He screamed on top of his lungs, waking all the inhabitants. They would come to help soon, but Karthan had higher priorities. Soon after he stood in front of the burning building. The flames had already taken over a big portion of the first floor.

    Alissa and her father were sleeping upstairs! Without hesitating for a second he grabbed a bucket of water out of the hands of a villager and emptied it over his head. Then he kicked in the front door and entered.The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

    A black cloud of smoke immediately hit him. Instinctively he held his breath and closed his eyes. He waved his arms around before opening them again a moment later. Immediately he spotted Alissa''s father, collapsed on the ground of the dining room.

    Unconscious. Quickly he stepped towards him, threw him over his shoulder and ran back out. Having arrived there he handed the lifeless body to a helper and drowned himself again with a bucket of water.

    His skin appreciated the cool sensation, the heat inside had already stung quite a bit. Again he bravely jumped into the fire, broke through the already half burning dining room towards the staircase. When he arrived there, the water had all but vanished and the heat started to sting again. Still, Karthan continued.

    Up the stairs he quickly kicked in the door to Alissa¡¯s room. Flames met him. The room would be nothing but ashes very soon. A empty bed.

    Cursing he stepped outside again, protecting his face helplessly with his arm and kicked in the door to the second, larger room: the workshop. His clothes caught fire as he stepped through another wall of flames.

    Behind him a burning beam from the roof collapsed into the small corridor. Death-defying Karthan ran into the workshop, looked around and threw away his burning mantle. The heavy chain vest below was already like a frying pan.

    Time ran out, and he could not spot Alissa anywhere. The way back: closed off. He eyed the window set ablaze. Cursing loudly he ran towards it and jumped through. A short fall later he hit the ground in front of the house hard.

    Immediately helpers showered him in buckets of waters. Pain called him to rest. But he fought the sensation down, started to get up again. Alissa. Where was she? He had to find her. Groaning he forced himself to stand, his left leg and at least two ribbs felt broken.

    His skin tingled painfully. His eyelids hurt unlike anything he had felt before, but again he forced his eyes to open. In front of him stood Alissa. Peace and calm came over him. She was safe! Thank god, she was safe!

    Nothing could have made Karthan happier in this moment. All his injuries forgotten. As she ran towards him to hug him, the strain in his body vanished and he collapsed forward. Darkness greeting him.

    ~~~~~

    Arryn waited for the reaction of the Iordai clan. As expected the swordmaster had run to his woman, as she was in danger. The assassin chuckled at the predictability. Love. It had paid off well to gamble on that factor. A few minutes passed and around twenty students left the school as well. The silver haired kid was not with them.

    Unfortunate. It would have been easy to kill him out here.

    Arryn waited for the last student to vanish in the village and activated the traps he had placed. On the only path connecting the village to the school, it would delay anyone returning to the school. He had effectively cut down their forces by half.

    Satisfied he checked his weapons one last time and pulled out a small, white marble. Karrik-Nam, a explosive pearl, that could be activated by kinetic energy.

    But this was a no lethal tool. Arryn stretched his legs again, the long wait had made him feel stiff. Then he dashed towards the school, shrouded in darkness. His black clothes and face covered in dark paint let him be one with the night.

    Quickly he was upon the wall and climbed up. Within the school, students were running about, gathering on a rallying point.

    Another swordmaster shouted orders there. The target however, was not with them. Arryn had planned to find the boy within the commotion that the fire caused. However, this appeared to be even easier, as the boy and the third master were standing below him in the garden. Isolated in the middle of the estate.

    The assassin almost had to chuckle, considering how easy this was going to be. Quickly he threw the Karrik-Nam, and dove down the wall. Head first he arrived in the soft grass, rolling off in a single skilled motion.

    At the same time the small marble exploded upon hitting the ground. A white burst of light blinded everything in the near vicinity. The assassin opened hiseyes immediately afterwards, drawing two thin short swords in a single flowing motion while he approached calmly. His blades were extremely thin and light.

    Coated in a strong poison, where a single drop would be enough to kill a human within hours, even a scratch was a death sentence. With a smooth dodge he dove below a katana strike, that the swordmaster had blindly thrown at him. Then he attacked the child with two quick stabs.

    But the white haired demon had jumped back while raising his bamboo sword. If he had possessed a wooden sword or a real blade, he could have blocked successfully. But one of the thin blades stabbed right through the soft bamboo and scratched Ollowyn¡¯s shoulder. Arryn was surprised at the child¡¯s quick reaction and quickly attacked again.

    Another thin wound appeared on the kids cheek as the bamboo sword struck past Arryn.

    Quickly Arryn turned and fled. His target was dead. Two strikes had hit, the poison would do the rest. Then the blade of the swordmaster hit heavily. A deep wound opened, as the katana sliced through his shoulder.

    Cursing, Arryn scaled the wall with quick motions. As he wanted to jump over, something hit him painfully, throwing him over the wall. He rolled off again, breaking the arrow stuck in his shoulder.

    Then he began to run, he hardly felt pain, as adrenaline worked wonders. He had to hurry however, with his wound bleeding they would be able to stalk him easily.

    If he was unable to arrive at the mountain pass Dun¨¦in before them, then he was as good as dead. Luckily he had been hit in his shoulder and not his legs, so they carried him with the usual ease.

    A glance back towards the village offered more helpful insight. The traps had been triggered and a few students were caught in hundreds of thin steel wires. It would take them at least another hour to free themselves.

    Arryn increased his tempo, and did not stop to look back. If someone chased him, he could do nothing about that. For now anyway.

    His mission was a success. The kid would die within the hour, he was certain of that. But the reaction time this child had shown when he attacked it showed again how important it is to kill these demons early on. Barely seven years old, but already so skilled¡­

    Arryn sighed, glad to have fulfilled his duty. Now he just had to escape in order to serve Valuan again. A feat he had succeeded in dozens of times before. It was something Arryn Nightblade took great pride in.

    As he continued his sprint towards the mountain pass, the reflected on the last hour. These swordsmen had real skill. His wounds were entirely out of his calculations. But his wounds did not seem to be deep enough to delay him much.

    And he would rather die to the blood loss, than to stop running. Arryn closed in on the mountain pass quickly, his escape without incidents.

    He could not wait to arm the trap he had prepared in advance and to pull out the arrow that now hurt so much. Then finally he could vanish in the woods and become invisible in the night. Nobody followed him.

    When he finally arrived on the pass, he turned around. Nobody chased him. He smiled happily. A full blown success. Then he pulled the arrow out with a groan.

    He cut a large cloth piece of his gear and bandaged his wounds provisionally. The pain let him groan again, it was really unpleasant. Then he forced himself to continue. It was nearly done. He stepped to arm his trap.

    Then however, the unthinkable happened. The trap triggered! The mechanism shot a long thin tree trunk out, that crashed into Arryn¡¯s side heavily and threw him painfully against one of the stone statues. How was this possible?! He had not activated the trap! What happened?

    Then he noticed steps that approached from the other side of the pass. Of course! Someone had prepared the trap in his stead and changed the trigger. With multiple broken ribs and a arm that had the bones show through, Arryn pulled one of his thin short swords. A desperate attempt to offer resistance.

    ¡°Third Iordai Style. Demon Hunt.¡± His opponent dashed forward, past him and the dark blade of a duraksteel katana ended the life of Arryn Nightblade. Decapitated, his head fell to the ground.

    Thasun Torre¨ª sighed while staring down into the valley. Could he never leave once, without someone burning shit down???!

 Chapter 7

    Marun K¨ªreii, second master of the Iordai clan, knelt humbly in front of the sanctum. With his forehead touching the cool wooden floor he awaited the judgement of his great master. His long blonde pigtail lied cut off next to him, a sign that he knew of his own shame.

    But it did little to alleviate his shortcomings and Marun had no hope to escape punishment that easily.

    His life was on the line. It would not be unusual for his great master to take these failures personally. He could ask for Maruns head. The pride of a swordsman was his one and all. And a mere assassin had killed his protege, while he was directly next to him. It was his biggest shame in life now.

    Inattention. Carelessness. Idleness.

    All these flaws had smudged his honor beyond anything one could be proud of.

    He also should have paid more attention to the fourth master, Karthan Cr¡¯Axsun. The fool had thrown himself into certain death just to save his loved one. Marun always had the suspicion that those two were more than just flirting singles.

    Inattention. There it was again. He should have prevented it. Should have prevented the fool throwing himself into a burning building. A tear of shame dropped out of his closed eyes down to the cool wooden floor below.

    Zartha Vanosh, the third master of the Iordai clan, also felt guilty. He had acted correctly, yes. But he just felt that he could have done more. He was responsible for the safety of the great master and his students.

    A task that he fulfilled, though the feeling that he had done nothing to protect everyone was there. It had felt as if he had run away from the attack. Hidden behind his students. A feeling that he did not appreciate.

    He also knelt with his forehead down in front of the sanctum. Humbly waiting for the punishment he longed for. He had no long pigtail that he could humbly cut off to offer it as a sign of regret. But his weapon lied handily in front of him.

    Same as Maruns weapon, ready to take his own life. But not all masters of the Iordai clan were waiting to die this day.

    Thasun Torre¨ª sat on his knees, head held high and dignified. He had confronted the culprit on the mountain pass. After beheading him he brought the head as a gesture for the village. They could feel safe again and they were thankful to the Iordai clan for their protection. Now their sorrows were less and Thasun waited for new orders.

    He hoped that the great master was not angry. Hoping that his comrades were not judged with a death sentence, he stared into the dark abyss of the sanctum.

    Alongside the wall they had placed four beds, simple sheets and bedding without any mattresses. They were still comfortable though.

    Yielrhin, the old caretaker and cook for the sword fighting school, knelt next to the four injured bodies and tended to their wounds. Two students, both with deep cuts in their arms, legs and body, had nearly bled to death.

    A complicated trap with thin steel wires had caught them and at the attempt to free themselves these wires had cut deeper and deeper into their flesh.

    Now they were bandaged and the old lady slowly fed them lukewarm water to bring them back from the realm of the dead. A slow and rigorous process, but they would survive. Questionable was the fate of Karthan Cr¡¯Axsun.

    He had received severe burns that covered about thirty percent of his body. The chainmail had also burned into his skin, though these would likely just leave scars and were much less severe.

    If he had only stayed a few seconds longer in this damned house, he would certainly be dead now. His recovery was a fight that he could maybe win, but it was impossible to tell how long this would take. The fourth bed belonged to Ollowyn.

    The boy had been beyond lucky. A stab into his shoulder had not transferred the poison, because the bamboo sword had literally stripped the blade of its poison, while letting the steel pass. His cheek however got poisoned.

    Dark streaks drew all over the left side of his face and were slowly expanding. Yielrhin had used holy leaves of the Korak Tree on his scratch and also gave him some, diluted with water every hour or two. The poisoning was unstoppable though. It was only slowed and the boy would die without the shadow of a doubt. The question was only how long they could delay the inevitable.

    Suddenly the door to the sanctum opened. Thasun lowered his head in an attempt to not anger his great master. He would not be in the best of moods anyway. A old man stepped out of the darkness. A smell of sandalwood arrived with him. Then he sat down with his legs crossed lightly before his attending masters.

    He was of small stature, drawn from age. He had shrunk quite a bit since his youth. Only a few single white hairs were left on his head. His face was otherwise clean shaven. A meter and twenty centimeters in height, thousands of small and big wrinkles on his face, he greeted them with a serene smile.

    ¡°Good Morning.¡± He said with a slightly shaky and tired voice. It suited his looks.

    Thasun bowed quickly before he replied: ¡°Morning, Gramps.¡±

    Like a thunderbolt the old man replied. His sandal, made from solid wood flew towards Thasun, who received the shoe with his face. Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

    ¡°Be respectful, whipper-snapper.¡±

    Marun and Zartha had to try hard not to laugh, even though they were in a serious situation.

    Thasun rose patiently and brought the old man his sandal. Then he set down again, without showing anger over the attack. ¡°Forgive me.¡± He said, before adding with a light whisper: ¡°Old fart.¡±

    The great master rolled his eyes. ¡°Ah. With you everything is lost. No manners.¡±

    Then he turned to the other two masters. ¡°Zartha. Rise. You have no reason to beg forgiveness today.¡±

    Zartha rose with an unhappy face. ¡°Great master, please. I could have done more, please see to a punishment.¡±

    Master Iordai however just ignored his speech and turned to face Marun. After eyeing him for a second he threw his sandal another time. This time at Marun. ¡°And what are you cutting your pigtail for? Huh? What are people supposed to think now? That everyone in our clan is dishonorable?¡± Marun rose in confusion.

    ¡°I am prepared to give my life here and now, to cleanse the clan from this shame and return its honor! Great master, please judge over me.¡± Marun bowed again, in anticipation of punishment.

    ¡°Ah, whatever. What am I supposed to do with a corpse? Go bald or something. That should do it.¡± Marun was not ready to accept this punishment though.

    As he wanted to speak up again in refusal the second sandal hit him on the forehead. ¡°I ORDER you to shave your head and let it be. Now silence.¡±

    Marun nodded. ¡°Yes, great master!¡±

    The old man sighed. ¡°And your hair was so beautiful. What a waste. How am I supposed to sell you to a old baroness or widow of some lord if you look like a potato? Such a fool.¡±

    Thasun coughed. ¡°What is up with the boy? Will he die?¡±

    Master Iordai nodded. ¡°Yes. The poison is very likely Nightshadow Narodit. There is no cure for that. I know only one possibility, but that doesn¡¯t help us at all.¡±

    Marun frowned. ¡°What possibility?¡±

    The old man grumbled. ¡°Argh... Lord Thalor Mey. He has it. But he lives all the was to the east of Zenshin. It takes weeks on horseback. Not to mention the mountainside is rather unpleasant to travel through. Not that he would help me. He despises me.¡± The last sentence the old master spoke with a light chuckle. It was a really nostalgic feeling to think back that far.

    Thasun frowned. ¡°Why does he hate you?¡±

    With a childish grin master Iordai smiled at his students. ¡°I have slept with his wife. Back when they had just gotten married.¡±

    He scratched his forehead before he continued. ¡°Quite often actually, before Thalor caught us once. Ah, that were the times¡­¡±

    Thasun grinned. ¡°They got to be dead then, the last time you had sex must have been a century ago.¡±

    The old man wanted to throw another sandal but he had run out of ammo. ¡°Pff. Barely forty years ago. She was a lot younger than me. Barely twenty. Young, beautiful thing¡­ Anyway. Only he owns a Nepheniel and we don¡¯t have the time to travel there anyway.¡±

    Thasun could barely keep in the laughter. Forty years ago the old man had been over sixty. The lies he told got more and more crazy every year, really.

    Zartha also threw in a question: ¡°What is a Nepheniel?¡±

    The great master sighed. ¡°A soul chain. It connects two or three lives for a certain amount of time. Their bodies can regenerate better through that. I am just spitballing here, but I think it would work on both Karthan and the boy.¡±

    Thasun coughed in order to remain serious before he took part in the conversation again. ¡°So, how big is this chain?¡±

    Confused the old man shrugged. ¡°About two fists full of metal? If even. Why do you ask?¡±

    Thasun reached into his mantle and drew a golden coin. A coat of arms was engraved into it. ¡°Lord Engur¨¤ll of House Irt¨® gave me this one, to ask any favour at any time. I could ask if he allows me to travel with the war portal to Sandrei?¡±

    The great master frowned. ¡°And you want to send it back by falcon? Lord Thalor Mey will not give you the Nepheniel anyway¡­¡±

    Thasun nodded. ¡°It is the only possibility to save the boy. You know how important he is. I don¡¯t want him to die here.¡±

    Marun and Zartha stared at each other, perplexed. They did not know what Thasun talked about.

    Master Iordai looked unhappy. ¡°If you do go, how do you plan on getting your hands on the artefact?¡±

    Thasun shrugged. ¡°It will solve itself somehow.¡±

    The old man glared at him. ¡°So you start a conflict with Zenshin just to save this boy? I know he is important, but I want to retain a peaceful relationship to that country. They could annex us just like this.¡± He snapped his fingers.

    Thasun glared back. Unrelenting.

    ¡°Huh. You look determined. Well, well, well. What could I, old man that I am, possibly do against this disobedience? Hm¡­¡± He winked at Thasun. ¡°Go. Try your idea. We will do our best not to let the kid die.¡±

    Marun and Zartha still looked confused. ¡°Master, what is going on? Could you expl-¡±

    But the old man silenced them with a harsh gesture. ¡°I am now one hundred and four years old. I have no time to explain everything to little children. Zartha. Go take the students and build a wall on the mountain pass. I want Dun¨¦in secure and safe. At least three meters tall and thick and add a gate. Do it so it can be defended easily.¡±

    Then he turned to face Marun. ¡°Marun, your punishment will be taking two students and grinding our wall down so it is nice and smooth. Nobody should be able to just jump or climb up that wall. It¡¯s high enough after all. Then build some staircases. Anything that you can think of really, as long as it aides the defenders. Use wood for that. Same goes for the mountain pass. Understood you two?¡± - ¡°Yes, master!¡±

    Marun knew, that he got away very easily here. The old master had been happy and in good mood. He bowed deeply and full of gratitude. Zartha mimicked him. Then they both left the sanctum.

    Outside Zartha started talking excitedly. ¡°We will have battles, right? If Thasun attacks that Lord and steals from him¡­ What if he kills him? Oh god. That¡¯s why we are building defensive walls! Do you think the old man is going senile? He should control Thasun better, really.¡±

    Marun shook his head over Zartha¡¯s rambling. The old man frightened him. Most likely they just escaped death over their failures because he still needed them. The happy and friendly fassade did not fool him.

    ¡°Don¡¯t be an idiot. We are starting a war here. It¡¯s clear to me. I just can¡¯t wrap my head around why this boy could be so damn important¡­ The great master is definitely of clear mind. That much is certain.¡±

    Meanwhile Thasun went through the details for his journey with master Iordai. As the old man told him his plan, Thasun had to grin. That old fart had really gotten crazy! And not the good kind of crazy that one could write of as being senile. No, the orders he gave would lead to a lot of people dying in the near future.

    ¡°Understood? I hope I can count on you.¡± The old man asked.

    Thasun nodded. ¡°Of course. Do you really want to take the child for that though? Great master, you could yourse-¡±

    Ritto Iordai silenced Thasun with a harsh glare. ¡°No. I am too old. You can lead him towards the right path. We will see how successful we are. Soon anyway. If not¡­ Well. Then I will have had some fun before leaving this world at least. Ahahaha.¡±

    Thasun bowed humbly before he left the sanctum. A last glance back at the young Ollowyn. The black lines were all over his cheeks. It would be a tight race. Every second counts.

    Greedily he rubbed his hands together. Oh, this would be so much fun! The last time he had so much excitement was likely the time he uprooted a clan because they insulted the great master.

    Just marvelous!

 Chapter 8

    Thasun Torre¨ª was on his way towards Rukbrick. The capital city, from which Lord Engur¨¤ll reigned, lied in the west of Zenshin. But the country was vast and ¡°west¡± did not mean that it was close to the western border. Thasun knew that a falcon flew around four to eight days to reach from one end of Zenshin to the other.

    It was difficult to say how long Ollowyn would be able to resist the poison in his body. The optimistic estimate of the great master was around nine days. So the entire operation was entirely dependant on the weather. If there was sunshine, the falcon hardly had to rest, while rain or snow delayed the journey a lot.

    Traveling from the Valley of Ending towards the capital city of Rukbrick took two days as well, even with ¡°borrowed¡± horses that Thasun had taken from a farmer.

    He nearly rode both of them to death, sleeping only two hours a night. But it still took so long. Maybe even too long? If Lord Engur¨¤ll denied his plea, it was all for naught anyway.

    After exactly 43 hours, Thasun finally reached the city gates. Like all cities in Zenshin it was a large fortress that had been built on a military key point. After that they had built walls around to keep the population save the case that a attack is happening Around 15% of the entire population in Zenshin lived in cities.

    Craftsmen, Servants, Soldiers and Merchants lived within the safe confines of the city walls. Meanwhile the rest of their people slaved away in mines, woods and on the fields in order to gather the resources a country needed to flourish.

    Theoretically a foreign military force could just walk past a city and roam the lands freely, though the risks of getting outflanked by all surrounding cities was a giant military debacle that no one wanted to suffer through.

    Zenshins population was unclear to the eye of an outsider like Thasun. There were around twenty larger cities. He knew that most cities inhabited between ten and thirty thousand men, while the capital city had around fifty thousand.

    That was mainly due to the large standing army Lord Engur¨¤ll possessed though. When Thasun passed the city gates he noticed a increase though. And not a small one. Hundreds of refugees were cramped in provisorical shelters.

    Apparently the situation down south had been more dire than he initially thought. Those refugees would give Zenshin a large boost to their economic development, strengthening the country for years to come. For now though, the noisy masses were nothing short of a plague. They still had not found their spot in society, did not know where to work and how to make a living. And those that never did would turn to banditry in no time.

    Bandits were no rare trait, they sat in every fiefdom and viscountcy. And even larger lords had the displeasure of having to deal with them from time to time. Thasun threw that thought aside and turned his gaze towards the fortress.

    The stronghold was the biggest that one could find in the surrounding areas. If one wanted to find a bigger keep, one had to venture south towards Valuan, where castles had been built to last eternity. Or north to the Valley of Ending.

    But Than D¨²in was in a entirely different league. Like a dragon that lived inside of a mountain. Ready to bring destruction but often quiet for decades.

    Castle Rukbrick however consisted of three outer walls, that served simply to slow the enemy down and twindle their numbers. While they possessed no gates or blockades to deny entry, the way itself was a torture path for every army. Pitfalls hidden in the ground and arrow slits all along the way promised death.

    Luckily Thasun was lead towards the gate of the inner walls without the displeasure of having arrows rain upon him. His coin did wonders. The over twenty meter tall building and the associated wall were creating a nigh indestructible stronghold.

    The last defense of their kingdom. While it was widely regarded as a kingdom, their leader was only a lord in title. He had never crowned himself, apparently deeming it necessary or maybe to keep this event as a backhand trump once he needed the public behind him.

    Still, he was to be treated like any king and it took a while until Thasun was inside and able to ask for a audience. Sadly he was in no luck. Apparently he was currently busy negotiating terms with a delegation from Valuan.

    But Thasun did not care for waiting inside the castle court. He would prefer the quiet of the fortress. His coin opened new ways as a servant lead him right towards the door behind which they were busy talking.

    The two guards, clad in heavy steel gear and armed with helbards, were soldiers from Valuan. Thasun felt a slight itch in his fingers. He wanted to find out how strong they were. A habit that all too often caused him trouble.

    Deciding that too much was put on the line already, he sat down in the empty corridor and started meditating. The soldiers frowned at him for a bit, before they continued ignoring his presence.

    The negotiations inside could only be heard as dampened voices. Which made it impossible for Thasun to tell how long they would still discuss things. But he was convinced, that sooner or later someone would step outside.

    Then he would be able to ask about the current situation and for how long it would still continue. Three hours later, he finally had luck. Apparently these negotiations were so important that taking breaks was a non issue.

    You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

    Quen¡¯Arak Xun, the leader of the merchant guild in Zenshin, had stepped out. Followed by a scribe, that was sorting through his papers in a hectic manner and tried not to fall over his own legs. He seemed very thankful when Thasun gave him some time by stopping the merchant. The swordmaster bowed politely.

    ¡°Master Torre¨ª! How exceptionally pleasant to see you. What are you doing in this great capital city of ours?¡±

    Thasun replied to the sly smile of the merchant with his own. ¡°Sadly this time no trading negotiations for the Valley of Ending. But we are of insignificance anyway, especially for such man like you that connects the dots of the known world with trade routes, where we are but a tiny dot ourselves. Surely there are more important things to speak about anyway.¡±

    Xun just laughed his argument off. ¡°Ah, no, no. Master Torre¨ª, I usually just love our trade agreements, it is so nice to deal with civilized people for a change. No greed behind your negotiations really. However¡­ I do have some points to talk about with you anyway.... But first: Why are you here? Surely not to see me?¡±

    Thasun smiled sheepishly. ¡°I waited for his lordship. However, it seems that he will be busy for longer? Do you know by chance when I could expect him?¡±

    Xun just shrugged. ¡°The trading negotiations are over already, so most is done. Valuans guilds are always so persistent. I am guessing¡­ one hour? Maybe less, maybe more. Afterwards he wanted to have tea with me though, so why don¡¯t you tag along, master Torre¨ª?¡±

    Thasun nodded thankfully. ¡°That would be great. Where would we go about waiting then?¡±

    The corpulent man folded his hands above his stomach and looked thoughtfully. ¡°Well, if you¡¯d like we could go and drink a tea in the officers dining hall? I know how much you love it to exert yourself physically so that would go along neatly. His lordship wanted to inspect the troops anway.¡±

    The swordmaster followed the merchant and his really chaotic, young scribe. It was not a long way towards that dining hall, where only a older lieutenant was present. Nobody that he could fight with. Maybe later.

    Sighting he sat down while Quen¡¯Arax Xun ordered some tea. His scribe was meanwhile busy, sorting through all sorts of papers on another table.

    ¡°Now. Tell me, master Torre¨ª. What does lead you here?¡±

    Thasun yawned shortly, before he began to explain. Meditating had made him oddly tired. ¡°I have to ask his lordship for a big favour. And, just between the two of us, I am uncertain that he will.¡±

    Xun scratched his overly ample stomach. ¡°Hmm¡­ I see. If there is anything I can do for you¡­ anytime.¡±

    Thasun nodded thankfully before returning the gesture: ¡°Of course. Just how you are able to ask any favour from me at any time in turn.¡±

    The merchant showed a amused smile. ¡°Now¡­ there would be something.¡±

    Thasun had to grin. Of course there was. A trader always looked for new ways to gain a profit from humans and territory. And Thasun was a representative for both. ¡°Oh? So you have found a new way of turning me into profit?¡± Thasun said, with a teasing smile.

    Immediately the merchant played to be shocked and outraged over his statement. ¡°Of course not! Master Torre¨ª! Nothing would be further from me than to use you unnecessarily.¡± A recruit brought the tea and placed them between the two.

    Then Xun continued with a wry, calculating smile. ¡°Although¡­ The Valley of Ending could help Zenshin in a few¡­ future happenings.¡±

    Thasun tried his best to play the game of the merchant. He knew, that that man enjoyed it more to play around something for a bit, rather than addressing it directly immediately like Thasun would have prefered to.

    ¡°Huh¡­ Happenings, you say?¡± Xun rubbed his head tiredy. ¡°Indeed. A truly tiring matter, really. I assume you have looked around a bit in the city? When you arrived? One can hardly miss it.¡±

    Thasun nodded. ¡°The refugees?¡±

    The merchant beamed. ¡°Yes, quite right. The refugees. More and more people flock to Zenshin in the hopes of rebuilding their lives. No living space here. No work. Then they turn to banditry.... It is truly disappointing.¡±

    Thasun continued to connect the dots. ¡°You want to let them settle in the Valley of Ending?¡±

    Xun nodded. ¡°Over a hundred years have passed since Than D¨²in last acted. We are going to try it again. I have talked with the lord about this.¡±

    The swordmaster eyed him cautiously. He had seen the northern Stronghold. One should not talk lightly about it. It was impossible to take it. ¡°So you plan on paying Than D¨²in tribute?¡±

    Xun smiled. ¡°Very wise, master Torre¨ª. Very wise. Indeed. We are planning to do so. If possible it will increase the relations to these unknown entities. A alliance in the distance future would be a dream, but that is the best case scenario.¡±

    The merchant drank from his tea, before he continued. ¡°Naturally I planned to have them build their own settlement, with the help of some craftsmen. Afterwards they would teach them to build bows, carve arrows and the like. As well as wooden training swords.¡±

    Thasun saw where this went. Not that it did not fit the great masters plan, though. ¡°Ah, I see. We build them up as a small army, for you to see fit? To throw them to the east, essentially increasing Zenshins¡­. territory?¡±

    The merchant smiled reverently. ¡°Or elsewhere. But for now, I would prefer that as a means to increase trading between the Valley of Ending, Than D¨²in and Zenshin.¡±

    Then he sighed. ¡°Of course only if the inhabitants of this fortress do not retaliate and destroy the settlement. I for one think that this is just old common folktale... but lord Engru¨¤ll was really hard to persuade on this¡­¡±

    Thasun nodded. ¡°I understand.¡± Then he let silence follow, as he nipped on his own tea. The merchant would have to break the silence now, if he really wanted a deal.

    The silence lasted for a few minutes, where the corpulent man eyed him closely.

    Then he could not hold himself back any longer. ¡°What could persuade you to grant me this wish? For us to work even closer together?¡±

    Thasun frowned. ¡°Well. I have to ask a very important favour from Lord Engur¨¤ll and a lot depends on it. One could say, that if someone-¡± He winked at the merchant. ¡°-could help me secure this favor, I would be really deeply indebted here.¡±

    Quen¡¯Arak Xun nodded with a smile. He had understood.

    Thasun then rose and emptied his tea with a single jug. This visit went a lot better than he had expected. Now he just needed to find someone that he could beat up and exert his muscles with. The journey had been long and hard and he had not gotten nearly enough movement. His body ached for it.

    He stepped outside onto the balcony. Below him the soldiers trained.

    Contrary to the heavy steel plate armor the soldiers wore down south, the Zenshin soldiers used light leather gear and a spear fighting formation. Big rectangle shields fused to a single wall and unit while protecting against projectiles.

    The faces were protected with mask helmets, where every division had their own design. They looked scary and were made to put fear in the hearts of their enemies.

    Aside from spears the soldiers used short swords with their shields on closer range. Katanas were out of fashion. At least on the battlefield. In a one versus one or one versus two fight, the Katana or another similar sword were the most dominating weapons. And it was there to stay.

    Every soldier trained with each weapon in Zenshin. Bow, short sword, long sword or katana, shields and spears. Only a few of those soldiers could possible be dangerous to Thasun. In a fight, he would best them all.

    In a flowing motion he jumped off the balcony, three meters down and unrolled himself while drawing his katana. He had found a target worth fighting against. And it would be a good one¡­

 Chapter 9

    Norulan observed every movement his younger brother Dilan made. Well, it was a little much to think of him as younger, since only a couple minutes of time divided the two twins. But since Norulan had always been a little smaller than Dilan he thoroughly enjoyed making fun of him by calling him little brother.

    And even though they were twins, their fighting styles could not have been more different.

    While Dilan used a heavy staff and prefered to smash his opponents to mush, Norulan fought with two short swords like an assassin.

    He loved to dive under his opponents guard to deliver deadly stabs. But unlike the swords this large staff had a large reach advantage.

    It was difficult for Norulan to get close enough.

    Again and again quick stabs und strikes robbed him off all the distance that he had advanced. It frustrated him.

    Just as he attempted to advance under the cover of a feint, where he would have unrolled below a strike of his brother, he felt a deadly aura from his right side.

    Dilan also immediately positioned defensively in that direction.

    When he turned to face the new threat, he understood.

    ¡°Heh. Still not able to beat your younger brother?¡± Thasun yelled mockingly. ¡°Not much changed since the last time, apparently.¡±

    Dilan frowned. ¡°I got stronger. That¡¯s all.¡±

    Thasun grinned. ¡°Hmm. I will decide on that.¡± Then he dashed forward with a quick step forward and crossed the distance to the staff fighter in an instant.

    Immediately the heavy weapon came crashing downwards. Thasun sidestepped with a flowing motion to the right, but the heavy staff followed like a snake. The swordmaster however blocked with the blunt edge of his duraksteel katana, as he raised the weapon just in time. Then he tried to cross the rest of the distance towards his opponent.

    Dilan knew a great deal of keeping his distance though. Instantly he jumped backwards with mesmerizing speed and pulled his staff along at the same time. Quickly Thasun was faced with an attacking staffend that stabbed at him.

    This time the motion for the attack was minimal, as if Dilan had anticipated Thasun to dodge. Right in the dodging motion Thasun had to raise his weapon to deflect the staff upwards. His opponent moving back to reposition again. This time however, he was too slow.

    Thasun had dashed below the heavy weapon as it retreated, letting the cold metal blade of his katana rest against Dilans throat. ¡°Your speed increased. Very good.¡±

    Norulan grabbed his training swords tighter and attacked Thasun. He had become impatient and eager to test his skills against his former teacher. As his first strike hit thin air, Thasun retreated and sheathed his steel sword.

    Then he dashed forward, intercepting Norulan.

    Like a leaf in a the wind he evaded every swordstrike in flowing motion, before he began punishing every strike with a palm strike to the forearms.

    Twice Thasun had to use the first style of the Iordai clan. With these his opponent was no match. Soon Norulan dropped both swords, unable to fight against the pain in his forearms any longer.

    ¡°Hehe. You got faster too. But not quite fast enough yet.¡± Thasun grinned high-spirited. It felt good checking in on his former disciples. Those two had received his personal training and had become quite passable. ¡°Bring me two of these wooden short sword too. And a few of your unit. I want to challenge myself.¡±

    While Thasun fought a small battle with a few soldiers, while he harassed them more than they did him, Xun observed with a calm face. Inside his thoughts went deep. He was glad that his suggestion had been received so well.

    It could have gone much worse, especially since Lord Engur¨¤ll would have been forced to act on a refusal. Even though the ruler was lenient with his territories at times, that did not apply for disloyalty.

    He had always eyed the Valley of Ending as one of his own territories, even though it was technically ¡°neutral¡±. Now their fate rested in Xuns hands.

    He had to do his best to include them into the realm as peaceful as possible and raise them to be a resource that helped defend it for decades to come.

    But what was this favour the swordmaster had so mysteriously implied? Gold? Craftsmen for the valley? No, that sounded too simple. It had to be something more important.

    Brooding, he observed as Thasun fought seven Soldiers. Two held spears and shields, Dilan with his two short swords, Norulan with his heavy staff and three others with a wooden katana each. Unbelievably Thasun was able to use their lack of experience as he disrupted their formation.

    He punished every mistake and weakness that appeared without mercy. After a few minutes only the two twins were left.

    And even though they put up a decent enough fight, they too fell to the twin swords Thasun wielded. Xun eyed the man interestedly. He only played with them.

    What could a man like this ask of him? With such strength he could serve any master, rise to any rank in any military and gold and riches would lie to his feet.

    Maybe even land and power.

    Was it that? Did he want to be more than just a disciple to the great Iordai? Suddenly a thin man stepped next to Xun. Tightly fitting black robes, covered with expensive embroidery that would have put every princesses dowry to shame. If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.

    The silver lines formed the sign of house Irt¨®.

    Xun quickly executed a light bow. ¡°M¡¯lord. Were the talks to your liking?¡± Engur¨¤ll looked at him with shining grey eyes.

    His hair was already slightly grey as well, though the ruler was in no way an old man. He radiated strength and serenity. His gaze intelligent and cold. ¡°Valuan will receive further support from our treasury. We will take in further refugees as well. But we receive ten percent on iron ore. I assume the harvest is going as planned as well?¡±

    Xun immediately nodded, taking in the information to further increase earnings. ¡°We have an increase of about twelve percent compared to last years harvest. We can support additional mouths to feed. Not forever though. We need a solution. Away from our current population. There is more and more unrest against the refugees and even former refugees. Bandits on the roads and in a lot of woods near the larger cities don¡¯t help. Most baronies are restless.¡±

    Lord Engur¨¤ll nodded. ¡°I understand¡­ I see master Torre¨ª is giving us the honor again. Your invitation?¡±

    The merchant shook his head. ¡°No. I have not the slightest clue as to what he wants. But I¡¯ve talked to him about our¡­ ideas. He seems to agree with them more or less.¡±

    The ruler shot him a shart gaze. ¡°More or less?¡±

    Xun sighed. ¡°He came to ask a favour with his coin. He did not tell me what exactly he wanted though¡­¡±

    The lord thought about it for a moment. ¡°Iordai will not deny us. We are his only allies and I don¡¯t think that he wants to stay free and independent to the point of being a corpse. Well, in a worst case scenario we could do without his well trained men in our noble houses.¡±

    The merchant coughed. ¡°M¡¯Lord, it would not be wise to-¡±

    Lord Engur¨¤ll nodded. ¡°But necessary if it comes to that. We need everything we can get. Restless times lie ahead I¡¯m afraid, my dear Quen¡¯Arak.¡±

    Xun agreed. ¡°Yes. The war down south is still raging on and the outcome is uncertain. Valuan does not let anything be known either. A sign, that they are starting to loose ground. Our borders to the east is not exactly quiet either. Trading is impossible now. The horse lords are distrusting to everyone at the moment and they plunder anyone that dares trespass. I think they will hold elections again soon.¡±

    Engur¨¤lls gaze became dark. ¡°Elections would be the worst that could happen to us. Advice the other barons and lords that they are to pay bandits to leave eastwards to gather information beyond the border. If they refuse, wipe them out. Our treasuries are well off at least, so we can afford that. This should solve the bandit problem and give us some time to relocate the refugees...¡±

    Xun nodded. ¡°Yes, M¡¯Lord.¡±

    ¡°You can go. I see to it that the problem is agreed to by master Torre¨ª.¡±

    Quen¡¯Arak Xun bowed one last time and left the balcony.

    Meanwhile Thasun was brought to the borders of his skill. He had won the tiring fight against seven soldiers and challenged for more.

    But those twelve proved to be rather resilient. The two brothers had drafted only spear fighters with heavy metal shields from their unit and had surrounded Thasun slowly.

    He soon noticed that he would lose. They forced him to use more than just the first Iordai style. Reluctantly he decided to go for it.

    The first Iordai style was designed for dodging and countering in the same motion while the second executed a long range attack. The other lessons of the great master were fighting styles, that exceeded the borders of normal human beings. He grabbed the two short training swords tighter.

    ¡°Eighth Iordai Style. One Hundred Twenty-Eight Moonflowers!¡±

    Like lightning he moved towards one of the soldiers, spears missing him.

    ¡°One.¡± The thrusting weapon broke under a powerful strike, executed by the swordmaster. His movement, barely visible.

    ¡°Two.¡± The metal shield dented heavily on two locations, throwing the soldier back on his back. Thasun vanished from his position and appeared between three soldiers.

    ¡°Four.¡± Two spears broke, the shields that their owners carried dented. They were pushed away. Thasun dodged another thrust of a spear and breathed in deep.

    ¡°Eight.¡± The three soldiers went to the floor as five strikes deformed their shields and sent them flying. Three more strikes were heard swinging through thin air.

    ¡°Sixteen.¡± Thasun dashed at another group, five soldiers unconscious or knocked away in an instant. His movement was visible but far too fast to actually react. Thasun wavered. Sweat stood on his forehead. Tired eyes looked at the still standing twins. The soldier next to them eyeing Thasun from behind his shield with scared eyes.

    ¡°Thirty-Two.¡± Thasun panted. Spear and heavy staff fragmented in dozens of pieces, the two short swords Norulan held flew up high into the air.

    Thasun could barely stop himself before delivering the remaining strikes. He would have hurt those three men. Badly too. Dead tired, breathing heavily and sweating like a drowning horse, Thasun fell backwards.

    Arms and legs stretched out, he lied on the ground staring at the clouds. He slowly started to recover. All around him lied splinters and pieces of spears. Dented shields and unbelieving looking soldiers.

    A few minutes passed while Soldiers discussed various things about him. Thasun relished in the chaos he had created. Then a familiar face appeared before his eyes. ¡°My lord. Excuse my intrusion. I have to apologize that I am unable to rise within the next few minutes. Otherwise I would properly bow. A little over exerted I¡¯m afraid¡­¡±

    Lord Engur¨¤ll raised a brow. ¡°A little? It is impressive that you plan to rise so soon. I have heard that it is incredibly taxing on the body to execute even a single one of those strikes.¡±

    Thasun grinned. ¡°I myself can¡¯t get past 32. But our great master is able to do 128, so I¡¯m certain at some point I will too.¡±

    The lord doubtfully raised a brow. ¡°However that may be. I¡¯ve heard you already talked to my advisor regarding our projet? What do you say?¡±

    Thasun¡¯s face got a serious look. ¡°We are inclined to agree to the terms. Of course we alway do our best to keep good relations to Zenshin, my Lord.¡±

    Thasun sat up with groan. ¡°There is something, that I have to ask of you though. And it is not a small favour.¡±

    The ruler frowned. ¡°Talk.¡±

    Thasun gathered himself up to his knees bowing properly. Once his forehead reached the floor he spoke: ¡°I ask permission to use the war portal to travel to Sandrei. Please allow me this great favour, I shall be eternally grateful.¡±

    Lord Engur¨¤ll accepted the golden coin that he once had given the warrior himself. It was indeed a big favour. The war portal was a ancient and magical portal that had been built centuries ago.

    Grand sorcerer Erelliehk Saradin had built it, ordered by the earliest king of Zenshin to end the war towards the east quicker. It had resulted in a considerable amount of land won in their favour.

    The gate however devoured quite a large amount of energy every time it was used and no one was sure how long it would be able to work. ¡°You are asking too much, Master Torre¨ª. Humor me. Why is a normal journey out of the question?¡±

    Thasun raised his head. ¡°With all due respect, Lord Thalor Mey in Sandrei owns a rare artefact that could heal a strong poison. We need it in the Valley of Ending in five days at the latest. A impossible feat to achieve. Unless¡­¡±

    Lord Engur¨¤ll sighed. ¡°Unless you are using the portal. I understand. If this person is that important to you¡­ But only under one condition.¡±

    Thasun rose, the feeling in his legs had returned. He bowed again, this time standing. ¡°Of course.¡±

    The ruler smiled deviously. ¡°Quen¡¯Arak Xun has talked to you about it today. After you return you will immediately set everything in motion. You will train the refugees and take care of them personally. Should you require any ressources talk to my advisor. He will manage this affair.¡±

    Thasun nodded. It sounded good. But what was the catch? Now Lord Engur¨¤ll looked at him coldly. As if he wanted to harm him personally.

    ¡°Secondly.¡± He whispered sweetly, this time quietly so that only Thasun was able to hear him. ¡°Master Iordai will choose a successor. One that he personally will introduce to me. Here in my home. I assume that will be you, with your talent for fighting? However that may be, this successor-¡±, he eyed Thasun knowingly, before he continued: ¡°-will marry one of my nieces. It is time to bind the Valley of Ending closer towards Zenshin.¡±

    Thasun had to swallow. While the announcement to unite Zenshin and the valley had been calculated by the great master, he did not expect that.

    Him and marriage? No. He needed to find a way out of this. But for now he had no choice.

    Maybe he could put this responsibility on some other poor soul.

    Maybe Marun? With broken voice he answered: ¡°Naturally, my Lord. As you command.¡±

 Chapter 10

    Thasun received his luggage from a servant. Upon his arrival in the city, he had placed it in the hands of one of the guards.

    It was likely that he would need the mask, that the great master had given him, since it was impossible to say what the current situation in Sandrei was. It was a barony that essentially acted as a border between the hordes of the east and Zenshin. They often had to deal with pillaging from the horse lords.

    The title ¡°Lord¡± had been given to Baron Thalor Mey for his exceptional ability to defend the border and his countless victories in battle. Master Iordai¡¯s orders were to do anything in his power to send the Nepheniel as soon as possible.

    It did not matter what kind of consequences Thasun had to deal with. The boy was of a higher important to him.

    After all, it had been centuries since the appearance of the last Valur¨¦n.

    Deep inside the fortress, in a large, round and open room, a circle was engraved into the stone floor. It consisted entirely of a silver, shiny metal, creating a space that about 100 soldiers could fit on. Thasun saw Lord Engur¨¤ll¡¯s face twitch, as he grabbed the lever that had been worked into the wall.

    Apparently, he was dissatisfied about this wasteful use of a portal charge. After all, this magical gateway used the same amount of energy whether one sent one man or a hundred. And since sorcerers were a thing of ages long past, nobody could recharge it once its core lost all power.

    Regretfully he pulled the lever and the metal circle began to glow in a blue hue. Then Thasun felt like he fell slowly. The surroundings rapidly changed, thousands of colors shot past his eyes as everything became a blur. Then his fall ended, just seconds later, and the swordmaster found himself standing in a near identical room.

    This one however differentiated quite a bit. It lied in ruins.

    About a third of the roof dome was missing and it rained inside. Apparently the water puddles had not influenced the portal at all.

    Thasun touched all over his body. Nothing felt out of place. This way of traveling was amazing! To cross such distances in such a short amount of time¡­ shivers went down his spine, as he realised what had happened just now.

    Still completely off guard, he left the large hall that was practically only a single building, designed like a large dome. About a hundred meters in diameter, maybe a bit more. A long time ago it could have been a beautiful building, but now it laid in ruin.

    Thasun knew that this portal was rarely ever used. This amount of carelessness would not make Lord Engur¨¤ll happy¡­

    Outside he spotted a guard. Well, if anyone could even call it that. He leaned on the wall where the rain would not reach him and slept. Thasun grinned. Nobody would know that he arrived here. Could he maybe use that to his advantage?

    Attempt a stealthy robbery instead of trying diplomacy? He thought about it for a moment. He had never been good at sneaking around and designing an elaborate plan.

    His strength was to go towards his goal hard. With violence.

    So Thasun did the best he could. He kicked the guard with full force right into a puddle of rainwater.

    ¡°Argh!¡± What? Who? Who are you?!¡±

    Thasun stepped closer, grabbed the young soldier by his head and pressed him back into the could water. The boy was barely in his twenties. Seconds later he pulled the struggling man back on his feet and yelled at the perplexed guard. ¡°Are we feeling better soldier? Huh?! Or are we still sleeping?!¡±

    The young soldier looked shamefaced. Immediately he tried to stand firm and saluted with a fist on his leather armor. Apparently he had remembered what to do now. The long spear and shield still leaned on the wall. Forgotten. ¡°Recruit Reynes, reporting no special occurrences on guard duty! Sir!¡±

    Thasun rolled his eyes. A kick against the firmly planted feet of the young soldier. A quick grab to the collar of his armor and his face already greeted the cold puddle of rainwater.

    A moment later Thasun brought him to stand again. ¡°No special occurrences?! You were sleeping! On. Guard. Duty! And I arrived here with the portal! I do not find that funny. Alright. Let¡¯s go! Move! You will bring me directly to your immediate superior!¡±

    The solder grabbed his weapons and the military bag and rand hurriedly down the road, Thasun in tow.

    The swordmaster had to grin. It was always so much fun to hackle the young recruits. To instill discipline in them. Again and again he screamed at the young man to run either faster or in an even pace.

    The portal was apparently no short distance away from the fortress. The countryside was here mostly covered in dense forest. Thasun was able to spot the great steppe plains towards the east from time to time though. They were really close to the border here.

    These forests that had formed densely over gentle hills were most likely the sole reason why Zenshin had not been overrun a long time ago.

    Two outposts further to the east had been given up hundred-fifty years ago, when it was just not feasible to defend the smaller castles anymore. Now they laid dormant and vacated. Nomads had no use for stone homes after all.

    But nobody could change their immediate dominance over these wide plains. To meet them in the open field was like fighting a pack of wolves as a housecat. Mounted archers harassed armies to the point of defeating them.

    Even a cavalry charge was helpless against them. They kept the distance and their horses were mostly superior. And even a full frontal attack of thousands or mounted fighters was impossible to hold with foot soldiers. They would just run you over.

    This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

    After about half an hour of walking the city and the keep came into sight. This was the only thing holding back the hordes. And even though this stronghold looked tough, he questioned how anyone could win battles though.

    The city was built on a widespread hillside that stood about fifty to a hundred meters higher than the surrounding area. Six walls secured the safety of its inhabitants.

    Thasun knew how quickly security could turn to be a prison. Invasions locked people into a starving city, where madness slowly took over. Surely the surrounding area and support from Zenshin made such a siege difficult. Without wide open areas the horse lords could not play their best cards.

    Not to mention that horses were literally useless in breaking a fortress. And maybe it was also their supply chain. Thousands of horses needed a lot of food, and usually nomades constantly moved to negate that fact.

    While Thasun crossed the distance in the company of the young guard, he spotted several changes. The few fields that laid between the city and the dense forests, had been burnt down. Thousands of soldiers and citizens were working there to raise barricades and dig pitfalls and trenches. At first the swordmaster assumed there was a siege going on.

    But apparently Lord Thalor Mey only tried to increase the defensive perimeter. Such barricades could easily be surrendered after they gained an advantage for the defenders and cost little but work effort.

    The rumours of unrest to the east seemed to have truth in their core. Soon the swordmaster found himself in front of the city gates. He looked around carefully, trying to remember every sport of weakness that he could possibly exploit should he have to flee.

    The orders of the great master made clear, that the Valley of Ending had not the best relationship to the ruling nobility of Sandrei. Since the Lord hated master Iordai for sleeping with his wife, it was doubtful that he would give Thasun what he wanted.

    If push came to shove Thasun would figure something out. Killing, stealing and taking hostages. Though¡­ he had not worked that out yet. Planning was not his fort¨¦. Usually he just hit stuff till it worked.

    After all, everything could be solved by using pure and unrefined violence. A locked door in your way? Use violence. Guards? Use violence. Somebody refuses to give you what you wanted? Torture never did any harm. If that did not work one only had to burn the city to the ground and somebody would help eventually. At least that had been Thasun¡¯s experience so far.

    First he had to try his best to calm the anger of this lord against his great master as best he could though. It was worth a shot.

    An older soldier at the gate divided different citizens into labor parties and eyed Thasun curiously only after he coughed. ¡°Yes?¡±

    The young guard soldier stood firm again and saluted in overly motivated fashion. ¡°Lieutenant. Recruit Nastor reports back from guard duty.¡±

    The higher ranking soldier looked confused. ¡°What guard post was assigned to you?¡±

    The young man got more and more nervous, the longer his report lasted. ¡°S-southern war portal. A-a man arrived there.¡±

    Thasun rolled his eyes. ¡°What he wants to say is, that he slept on duty. Unarmed too. He did not notice my arrival either. Lieutenant, please refer me to his lordship Thalor Mey. I have a urgent message for him.¡±

    The officer frowned at him. ¡°Through the gate. Always straight ahead. You can pass freely until you reach the last game. All reports go through Seledief. A merchant that gathers information and forwards them to the Thalor household. You can¡¯t miss him.¡±

    Then he turned to pull the recruits ear. He pulled him towards one of the working parties. Apparently he would have to work now instead of sleeping on guard duty.

    Thasun had often thought about becoming a soldier when he was still younger. He loved it. War, violence and the hierarchy intrigued for him.

    Sighing he passed the gate and made his way towards the castle. On his way he received a first impression under how much pressure the city was.

    Aside from a few traders that sold consumables, everyone was on the street working on arrows, bows and other supportive goods that would help defend the city.

    Braziers were put on the walls and filled. Oil was already stored in boilers that hung over a big fireplace. Although that one had not been lit, it could be in an instant. Children and old geezers were practicing with common and crudely made bows.

    Thasun¡¯s unrest grew. A battle. Nobody had told him anything! That was even better than to cause trouble with a noble household and the promise of fighting in order to do so.

    After twenty minutes Thasun stood in front of a fat merchant. A really, really fat merchant. A normal person could have eaten Thasun three times whole and the swordmaster was still unsure if that came close to this man¡¯s size.

    He occupied a small table instead of a chair, that had been lowered intentionally. In front of him three servants stood, sorting through all sorts of documents on a table of regular height.

    Thasun quickly explained that he had arrived with the war portal down south and that he has a very important message for Lord Thalor. Immediately he was escorted by two armed guards and sent towards the keep. There another four joined them, all guarding him with drawn swords. The swordmaster agreed with their diligence.

    Those men had been trained properly.

    In a smaller version of a thrones room, Thasun laid down his weapons and sat down in a calm posture. The guards positioned in a line in front of the thrones, apparently lord and lady Thalor were attending meetings here together.

    Thasun tried to meditate, but it did not take long for a door to open near these large wooden chairs.

    ¡°-right. Additionally we have sent riders to request further help from other nobles in the area.¡± An older man looked up from his notes and faced Thasun. Next to him a elegant, old lady strode into the room. Although aged, her face possessed a certain beauty.

    Her companion blinked at his notes again. ¡°Thasun Torre¨ª, M¡¯lady. He is here to report on¡­ Apparently he came through the southern portal? Ah. Yes. Hmm¡­ Yes. He brings a message from the capital.¡±

    The older woman eyed Thasun curiously as she sat down. ¡°You bring good news?¡±

    The swordmaster bowed deeply. ¡°I am no messenger of Lord Engur¨¤ll. He is apparently still not informed about the current situation here.¡±

    Immediately her gaze froze. ¡°What did you want then? Speak.¡±

    Thasun rose to sit calmly again and nodded. ¡°Lady Irina Thalor, I beg your forgiveness, my master the great Ritto Iordai sends me with a request.¡±

    The old woman blinked, before her face bore a serene smile. ¡°He is still alive? That really makes me happy to hear¡­ Is he well?¡±

    Thasun shook his head. ¡°M¡¯lady, I¡¯m afraid he was attacked and poisoned only days ago. Currently he is unwell and resting. It does not look all that well.¡±

    Depressed Thasun bowed gain. He really hoped that the relationship between her and his master stood as well as he always claimed. Luckily the Lord was not around to spoil the mood. But were those stories all true?

    ¡°Oh¡­ My god¡­ That is horrible.¡± A shocked old lady held a hand in front of her mouth. A tear almost visible in her eye.¡±Did¡­ did he send you to say goodbye to¡­ to me?¡±

    Thasun showed a worried face. ¡°Yes and.. no. His will indicates that we are supposed to relay a letter to you. But since the master has not passed away I cannot do that. I actually want to ask a favor.¡±

    Lady Thalor nodded, struggling to keep her tears from showing. ¡°Speak.¡±

    ¡°In your possession is something that is known as a Nepheniel. With this artifact we could try to heal the poisoning of our great master... ¡°

    Her advisor immediately spoke up. ¡°Madame. This particular piece is worth a lot of gold¡­ to just give it away is... ¡°

    But Lady Thalor did not want to hear it. ¡°Send the strongest, healthiest falcon with it. If this Nepheniel can help him, we should do everything in our power to help¡­. Oh. And Arletan. Hurry up and do it right now.¡±

    The advisor curtsied and shot a glare towards the swordmaster. ¡°It will be done. He will fly within the hour.¡±

    Thasun was impressed. Apparently his master did not tell lies as often as he and the other masters suspected him to. ¡°I am forever in your debt.¡± He bowed deeply again, this time reaching the floor with his forehead again.

    Ollowyn was saved if the gods willed the weather to remain calm. The little ongoing rain would subside soon too, so Thasun was hopeful.

    And apparently this was not the last of all the good news. ¡°Master Torre¨ª. I assume you have been trained by Ritto himself? If so¡­ could you please help with the battle? My husband has not returned since he rode to battle three days ago. He should have been back long ago¡­ I¡¯m afraid he has passed this time around¡­¡±

    Tears streamed down her eyes. ¡°And the K¨®rren Lahn will be here in a few days. Either to plunder or to take the city. I need to protect my people.¡±

    Thasun nodded seriously. ¡°Of course. I am your humble servant for this battle. Whatever needs to be done, I will see to it.¡±

    He gave her a calm appearance, while his inner child raged rampant. A battle!

    Finally a battle!

    The first time in a really long time that he would shrug off the chains the great master had put on him and roam free!

    To dive into a sea of enemies and let his instincts run wild, Thasun could not wait for this to happen.

 Chapter 11

    Thasun stood upon the eastern gate of Sandrei. While the city unfolded behind him, a different spectacle played out before the walls of the city. Something that he had never seen before. The mounted folk had brought their army in the morning. Around one thousand horses arrived every hour and there was no end in sight. The officers estimated the numbers to be seven thousand already.

    The Thalor garrisons troops stood at six thousand. If one indented to count the old, weak, children and women as well the cities number would rise to a maximum of twelve thousand defenders. The rest of the population had evacuated ahead of time. The surrounding baronies most likely sent smaller battalions into the woods to harass the enemy on occasions by mounting surprise assaults with bow and arrow.

    The barricades, pitfalls and trenches that the defenders had prepared beforehand, had already fallen. With the arrival of mounted archers these defenses were brought to surrender rather quickly. Now only the walls of stone stood in the way of total domination by the horse lords.

    ¡°There! The K¨®rren Lahn. They are coming,¡± a officer shouted next to Thasun on the wall.

    K¨®rren Lahn. The leaders. A wild, disorganised heap of tribe chiefs, that normally spread out all over the eastern plains. Each escorted by twenty of their most loyal men, they rode towards the city. Their flags and tribal signs fighting in the wind. Thasun counted silently. Thirty-two. Though, aside from those twenty-one riders under each banner, he spotted two vastly different characters.

    Riders clad in a pitch black plate armor, on horses that could easily have jumped out of Thasun¡¯s own nightmares. Large spikes and plates of bones grew out of their flesh, forming horrifying defenses. Fiery red eyes and a dark black, leathery skin made them a abomination of horror. Smoke rose from their nostrils.

    ¡°By the god¡­. What is this.. this creature?¡± Harle Thalor asked. ¡°Is that even a horse?¡±

    Thasun shook his head, before giving the young lord a explanation. ¡°No. Those are¡­ no, those were¡­ Unicorns. A long time ago¡­ Go to your mother. Relay a message to her and the other officers. Tell them two Albae are under the K¨®rren Lahn.¡± As Thalor Mey¡¯s youngest son followed Thasuns order the advices all the other guards to keep an eye on those black riders at all times.

    What Thasun knew about Albae from legends was but a few things. There had been Albae in the old Valuan, killing and tracking their mortal enemies: Elbs. The creatures of light were mercilessly hunted by those spawns of darkness. But those events had transpired over a thousand years ago and described the Albae as angry, dark gods that could only be killed by scores of sorcerers and magic. But legends often over exaggerated, and Thasun would soon find out if that was the truth.

    Hours passed, where the K¨®rren Lahn raised their camp in the middle of their troops. As it began to approach mid-day, they held some sort of council. Not surprising. After all they had never before tried to attack a fortress of this size and the swordmaster suspected, that they missed the experience and the means.

    But the appearance of those two legendary creatures unsettled him. He made his way towards the fortress to rely his estimations and advice to the commanding officers. Thasun had been raised towards the rank of major, but it was more of a honorary position than giving him real power. He was simply appreciated as advisor and a strong warrior. However, it gave him the freedom of passing between walls without being questioned by the guards.

    After a few minutes of marching he arrived at the castle and shortly after that in the audience room, where he had asked for the Nepheniel just days prior. His thoughts drifted to Ollowyn. Hopefully the artifact would reach him in time.

    Entering the room he did not wait for curtsies, bows or other court proceedings. Thasun hated this sort of thing and he just wanted to advice, shake up the commanders and make them think.

    Immediately he began speaking. ¡°M¡¯lady. I have to say, the appearance of those two Albae is unsettling me. We should at least triple the guards for tonight. Five times the amount would be better.¡±

    Arletan, the old advisor of house Thalor, snorted. ¡°As if those are real. No way the horse lords have legends like these fighting for them. It is a trick to destroy our morale, that¡¯s all.¡±

    Thasun shook his head. ¡°No. I am certain. Those two black, terrifying horses they are riding? Those are called Nightmares for a reason. Rare carnivorous beasts, that only let themselves be tamed by Albae.¡± His hand twitched a bit on face of such ignorance. This advisor had attempted to discredit him at any turn so far. ¡°If a normal man would attempt to ride it you will only find a skeleton left after the Nightmare picked him clean.¡±

    ¡°Master Torre¨ª. Do you believe that they will attack the city? They have never done so before.¡± Harlen Thalor looked at him with a worried expression. Apparently he believed Thasuns estimation.

    ¡°Their appearance is, as i said, worrying. Normally I would assume that they plunder the surrounding villages and move on with life. Maybe they would ask for payments so they leave. And the logistics regarding a longer siege¡­ especially with so many horses¡­ A lot of you know that this is a nightmare. Especially since we went through the trouble of destroying the surrounding fields yield.¡± Thasun frowned. ¡°Not to forget the missing siege gear. They could build ladders and rams easily, but without siege shields for their archers or siege engines¡­.their losses would be insanely high. But as I said¡­ the Albae.¡±

    Arletan wanted to raise his concerns again, yet Harlen Thalor ended the attempt immediately by holding a speech. ¡°It is always best to assume to worst, in order to be prepared for what will happen.¡± After a quick pause he continued. ¡°Many of us know that my late father uttered those words all the time. I think it would be wise to follow his sentiment. We do not know, if an attack is going to happen. But we should be prepared. I want each and every one to look out for possible counter attacks that we could mount. Arletan. Please send falcons to the other houses and ask for help again.¡±The author''s content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

    Lady Irina Thalor threw something into the conversation as well: ¡°Why would those Albae support the K¨®rren Lahn? As far as I remember the ultimate goal their race set themselves is to rid the world of Elbs. And there never were Elbs in Zenshin. The last visitor had been a thousand years ago.¡±

    Thasun frowned. It was indeed odd. There were elves to the south of Valuan, across the seas. Yet those lived isolated and shut themselves off from the world. Even the Union of Vereil, that currently warred with Valuan, held a polite distance to the race of light. And the elven domain Nielth¨²¨ªn bordered on over a third of their country.

    ¡°Maybe they want something else?¡± Harlen tried weakly. ¡°Gold? Old Artifacts?¡±

    General commander Zaldor Treiin hit his fist hard onto the table. ¡°Enough! We have to prepare for an attack. Lord Thalor wouldn¡¯t have wanted us to waste our time thinking about these pointy eared fucks. There are only two of them. We will keep the idea about negotiating with them in mind. Sitting is dismissed. Back to your posts!¡± He rose as well, bowed to Lady Thalor and her son, and left.

    The commanding officers returned to their assigned positions and Thasun frowned at the hot midday sun. He had enjoyed the morning cool. Sighing, he returned to the eastern gate as well. As he arrived there, he saw that the K¨®rren Lahn were still holding council. Their army had spread out considerably. It looked threatening, though the swordmaster did not fear them in a siege. But a certain thing was unsettling: The Albea were giving orders to some regiments of the horse folk. And they followed with enthusiasm. Hundreds of them ran around frantically gathering axes and other tools, only to vanish into the woods. Apparently they wanted to gather timber. So a siege was no longer a possibility, but a fact.

    Thasun stared at one of the Albae, that executed two men with a thin, dark sword. It was too far away to tell how well he handled his blade, though the process barely took two seconds. With the executions the other warriors increased their pace, bringing in horses to move tree by tree to the center of their army.

    Thasun leaned over towards a younger soldier. ¡°Recruit. I will cover your post. You will relay a message to the general commander. The K¨®rren Lahn are gathering timber. They are building siege equipment. Thasun Torre¨ª asks for a meeting at the eastern gate. Understood?¡±

    The boy repeated briefly to show that he had understood. ¡°Gathering timber, siege equipment. Thasun Torr¨¦i. Meeting.¡±

    Thasun nodded. ¡°Good. Dismissed.¡± For a while he looked at the back of the young recruit, that ran across main street to relay his message. The battle really was coming. Thasun was looking forward to it, though it was likely that he was the only one on this wall that thought that way.

    It took some time until the necessary officers gathered at his location. Meanwhile the K¨®rren Lahn had raised a large, massive tower entirely made of logs. At seven meters height, he towered over the city walls by quite a bit. The wooden platform they added at about a meter height made it clear that this was going to be used for cremation and that it wasn¡¯t a very failed attempt at a siege tower. As Lady Irina Thalor finally arrived, Thasun only had to inform her.

    ¡°M¡¯lady. I¡¯m afraid the K¨®rren Lahn want to cremate your late husband. I¡¯m sure that they¡­¡± He sighed. ¡°I¡¯m sure that they want to honor Lord Thalor Mey. He won many battles against them, and they want to give him to their gods. By burning him.¡± Thasun eyed the old woman, that had tears in her eyes.

    ¡°They want our city, our land. They want to see us dead. They want to enslave our people, kill us and drive us away. Why would they burn him to honor him?¡± Tears of grief and anger now rolled down her cheeks. ¡°He belongs to our family tombs. Alongside his father and grandfather. Not burned like one of these savages!¡± She looked at Thasun with a defeated gaze. ¡°Please. Master Torre¨ª. Don¡¯t¡­ Don¡¯t let my husbands deeds for naught. Please make sure this city doesn¡¯t fall!¡±

    Thasun nodded. He saw this a little different, the K¨®rren Lahn did not know that it was dishonorable for Zenshins nobles to burn their dead. He respected them for giving such thought to their mortal enemy that had denied them again and again. He would make sure that they would learn to fear him as well. So they would burn him too, should he ever fall on the battlefield.

    <hr>

    Van¨¢tor¨¢s stroked the side of his Nightmare. It was restless. No wonder, since literal mountains of food walked by him day in, day out. The work was progressing smoothly, especially after his sister had executed a few of those crude barbarians. Those unworthy creatures had so much self esteem, yet their skills were only comparable to children. So young, so inexperienced.

    The Alb drew one of his knives. It was forged of Dur¨¢ssium, a black metal that could only be worked with much skill and craftsmanship. Some of these savages also possessed weapons that were forged with Dur¨¢ssium. Duraksteel, they called it. A insult to every real smith. It was an imitation that did not even come close to the real deal. While Van¨¢tor¨¢s¡¯ knife was forged from pure Dur¨¢ssium, Duraksteel was produced with a mere splinter of the precious metal mixed into common steel. A splitter to forge a thousand blades. Van¨¢tor¨¢s threw away the thought. Why was he concerning himself with those savages? Black veines shot over his face. Ragelines, that openly declared his feelings to the world.

    A feeling of disgust and rage. Van¨¢tor¨¢s shot forward and grabbed one of the passing barbarians by the neck. Pulling him close he rammed his knife deep into his heart. Immediately the long and spiky tongue of his Nightmare shot forward, ripping into the man. A shredding sound later a large chunk of meat was stripped of his ribs as the dark horse feasted. Van¨¢tor¨¢s skillfully cut off the forearm of his enemy. Handing the limb to his companion it was stripped off all flesh just minutes later. Van¨¢tor¨¢s eyed the two white bones, discarded one and leaned on his Nightmare as it picked the corpse clean. A perfect forearm bone with a neat form. Casually he used his knife to carve into the bone. Deeply sunken in passion and concentration he let his Dur¨¢ssiumknife whirl around, creating more and more details.

    Quickly the image of a burning city appeared in it¡¯s details, like a human artist could never reproduce. He opened his tight plate armor and pulled out one of ten small cases where he stored his masterpiece in. Seven others had already been filled. Bones that showed carved ruins of villages and a elben face distorted in pain. His previous achievements. They would make for a nice addition to the wall relief in his home in Ds?n N¨ªethrak.

    The savages were eyeing him in horrified fashion, ever since he had killed the filthy human. They discussed something in their own, rough, ugly language. That they even talked about him killing one of their worthless own! The audacity. Ragelines began to show on his face anew. These ugly, disgusting faces and this tone deaf insult of a language! Van¨¢tor¨¢s hated this race. Only their bones made for some fine art, and sometimes he liked to use their bodies as well. That was all they were good for.

    As he drew his knife again, they quickly dispersed to continue their work again. Urgh. Humans. How he despised them¡­. But before he could choose another bone, his sister arrived and stepped next to him.

    In the beauty of the albic language she whispered to him: ¡°The voting is over. So it begins.¡±

    Van¨¢tor¨¢s nodded. ¡°Then we will see, if they have chosen well.¡±

    His sister laughed deviously. ¡°Don¡¯t be mean. You know those apes cannot choose anything, for we decide. God, sometimes I miss orcs. They are much simpler. You point and they do. No questioning things. Less words.¡±

    Van¨¢tor¨¢s shrugged. ¡°Either way, both are disgusting, vile creatures.¡± Then he marched towards the new ruler of the horse folk. He did not even look at him. It was of no importance. The vote had served only to make one thing painfully clear to those savages: They were not in charge.

    Quick as lightning he drew his blades and dashed past the man. He severed the mans head quickly, turned to grab the simple golden crown he was wearing and let the body collapse under it. Then he kicked the head into the gaping masses and threw the crown towards the most brutal looking barbarian.

    ¡°You are the leader now. Order your men to get ready.¡± Van¨¢tor¨¢s spoke in the language of the savages. It felt terrible to twist his mouth so unnaturally. His Nightmare had approached at the smell of blood and he mounted it as he eyed the gathering hordes. Now it was time to raze this city and hand it over to ash and cinder in order to gain what Van¨¢tor¨¢s and his sister had looked for. It had taken many segments of eternity....

 Chapter 12

    Ritto Iordai sat defeatedly beside the deceased boy. The Nightshadow Narodit poison had spread all throughout Ollowyn¡¯s body and cut down his vital functions bit by bit. Now black, corrupted veins stood off the pale skin and his last heartbeat had been minutes ago. Now, any help would be too late. Even the leaves of the korak tree had shown little effect. Nearly ten days he had fought against the grasping claw of death. But help never came. Sighing, the great master eyed one of his older students. Karthan Cr¡¯Axsun was still alive, fighting the heavy burns, that his death defying stunt had cost him. The fool would very likely survive, though scarred for the rest of his life.

    With a heavy heart Ritto Iordai rose and stepped out of the sanctum. It was the first time in months, that he had interrupted his training. Yes he felt the next stage approaching. Soon it would be reached. Maybe he had already broken through, but not noticed? Thoughtfully he stepped into the open and felt the wind on his face. It was cooling down. The next winter would arrive soon.With a sad expression he looked into the distance. The mountains called for him. He wanted to travel, survive in the wild again. To be free.

    A few minutes later one of his students ran across the yard with excited expression. Apparently he had expected to find master K¨ªreii or master Vanosh, and not the great master in the flesh. He stuttered around and nervously handed him a parcel.

    Master Iordai frowned. What was this? ¡°Where did you get that from?¡± He asked, in calm and serene tone.

    ¡°T-Th¡­ Tha-Thasun. Fal-¡± Mephian gasped for air. He had run far and long. ¡°A falcon c-came.¡± He inhaled deeply before finishing his sentence: ¡°It landed in the village yesterday.¡±

    Immediately an ice cold feeling ran across his body. The tiny old man grabbed the parcel and dashed back into the sanctum with haste, while disassembling the package. Thasun did it! Maybe the boy could still be saved? He nearly dropped parts of the package, before he arrived before their resting spots. A letter flew out between the silver chains of the artifact. With a quick glance he recognised Irina Thalors hand writing. Reading had to wait. A silver chain dropped out of the parcel. Tiny runes had been engraved into the metal with a silver cuffs on each end that had to be attached to the two participants.

    Hastily he did the thing most logical to him. He bound the Nepheniel to himself. Karthan was out of danger, but additional strain on his body could prove devastating. He attached the other end to Ollowyn. Nothing. No exchange of energy like he remembered. Was it not working because Ollowyn¡¯s pulse could no longer be felt?

    Suddenly the great master remembered something his old master once said to him. ¡°In a thunderstorm, the gods exchange their favours with the world. But don¡¯t believe you would steal one of those for yourself, or deny the gods their due. They will smite right through you and you will perish in their exchange.¡±

    In Iordai¡¯s mind the Nepheniel was the lightning, that exchanged a favour or energy. If he tied the Nepheniel around Ollowyn, before attaching it to Karthan¡­ would it work? The old man did not think about it for long, he had always been a learning by doing kind of man. As soon as he finished attaching the other end to Karthan¡¯s wrist, he felt a constant draw of energy, that left his body. If it would help Ollowyn, was left to be seen.

    Quickly he lost all control though. The energy drawn from his was vast! The artifact rapidly burned into his lifeforce until he collapsed. With a serene smile he drifted into the darkness.

    <hr>

    Within the last ten days, Marun K¨ªreii had built the cornerstone for the defensive wall on Pass Dun¨¦in. The necessary stones were carried to site by the students, which gathered them from the surrounding mountain slopes. Of course just a stack of stones would not make for a very stable and strong wall. It also required the right amount and type of mortar.

    Luckily the Valley of Ending possessed a chalk stone quarry, that the earlier settlers had used a hundred years ago. Nearly untouched by time, there had been a lot of chalk stones left. Marun wanted to take advantage of that. The process of crafting good mortar took around two years. First the chalk stone had to be smacked to handy, small rubble. Then it had to be burned in a large furnace, where it became a very dry material that could be ground to a pulver very easily. Then the real time consuming part began. Dissolving the powder in water, stirring it and adding water again and again over the course of two years to produce chalk brew. If one added sand to this, he got mortar.

    Deer hair and straw were often used to avoid cracks in the binding mortar later. The resulting wall was far more robust and steady than a quickly assembled wall made of stone and earth. Marun wanted to create a wall that the great master would be proud of. It finally paid of that he had paid attention to his late father''s chalk brew business, even though he himself prefered the way of the sword far more.

    Now that he had finished setting the groundwork properly, and had advised Zartha into how he had to set the wooden construct necessary for the later work, he was finally able to begin with his punishment: grinding the walls of the school so that they were smooth and even. He would not take another student to help, he would take this upon himself! Working until his fingers bled and his feet collapsed below his body he would atone for his sin. Marun was the one that had stood next to Ollowyn, yet the boy still got poisoned and looked like he was dying any day now. He had killed him with his uselessness. His inattention. His stupidity.

    A tear ran down his cheek as he walked back towards the Iordai Sword School. The boy would have had so much talent. It would have been a pleasure to teach him. To fight against him once he exceeded his skill.

    As he approached with a heavy heart, he spotted a bright, silver light coming from the sanctum.

    <hr>

    Thasun could not believe his eyes. He would not have deemed this possible. Those despicable Albae! They had killed the newly elected ¡°Lahn¡± that ruled over the K¨®rren Lahn in front of all their soldiers. Then he had thrown the crown disrespectful towards another leader while his Nightmare feasted on the beheaded corpse. A new Lahn had been crowned by the murderer of the old one, while they stood in the middle of an army of thousands. Not even his most loyal followers dared to go against those pointy ears. If they were that feared, how strong were they? Thasun wanted to know.

    This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

    The new leader had the troops assemble and unite around the large tower of wood, that had grown even more since the last time Thasun had payed it any attention. As they formed into their respective groups, the Albae walked up and down, searching for resistance. Nine Men died, as they had looked at them angrily. Then the ceremonial fire was started, that handed the body of the late Lord Thalor Mey over to the flames. An hour later the inferno towered at twelve meters height.

    Lady Irina Thalor withdrew to grief for her husband alongside her son, that tried to console her. After the executions were over with, the K¨®rren Lahn proceeded to the next part of their grand strategy. Thousands of green, fresh leaves were brought out by the thousands, alongside a dark pulver that the Albae added to the flames. Immediately a thick and compact wall of smoke rose from the fire. Picked up by the eastern winds, that constantly blew westwards, Sandreis gates were quickly covered by the intense smog. The garrison quickly was in danger of suffocation. The thick smoke got blown in through arrow slits and windows, and the soldiers were forced to evacuate. Luckily only the first wall was suffering from this weird attack, as most of the smog dispersed before reaching the second wall.

    A few heroic soldiers poured oil towards the gates entry and ignited it in order to delay the attackers from possibly approaching. They tried to buy time. Though Thasun did not understand the reason behind this dense fog. While it clearly harmed the defenders and made them leave their posts, it also blocked the K¨®rren Lahn from attacking. At least it should have. The horse folk threw themselves right into the thick fog without hesitation.

    Death defying, they hit their horses, forcing them to run right into the smoke covered inferno without delay. As one of the more scared riders fled to the left in order to avoid suffocation or fire, two black arrows immediately spiked out of his side. The Albae did not show mercy. They had left them no choice. Thasun ran along the wall to see everything more clearly. A few of the defenders were shooting blind arrows in the hope of hitting something. The horse folk¡¯s warriors were armed with large axes and fought through smoke and fire. As they arrived at the gate, only a small spot was left, where no fire raged. But even here breathing was hard, as the thick cloud of darkness blew into them again and again. Thasun spotted a few defenders, that had remained. About twenty men. All dead. Though the ramp towards the gate was revealing a more devastating picture at times. Dozens had been thrown of their horses, trampled, burned or suffocated and most dropped after grinding their axes into the gate a couple of times. Thasun had never seen such a death defying attack.

    The wooden gate yielded quickly under the weight of the heavy war axes. As the smoke cloud ceased to be, only a few dozens horse riders remained, that stepped over the completely destroyed gate. Heavily burned and outnumbered, though they did not stop. Forming into a rough formation they proceeded. However deadly their orders had been, the fear of the dark eyed Albae was stronger. Thasun did not care to find out what they had planned. With a surprise attack from behind and quick and fast stabs, he dismantled their formation and killed all but the sixteen horses that remained. No fighting spirit had remained within them. A sad fight. But it did wonders for the garrison¡¯s morale. The first line of defense had fallen, but it had been costly. Over four hundred horsemen lied dead before the gate. Some spiked with black arrows, most burned or suffocated.

    ¡°Second line of defense! Set up ambushes and traps! Everyone to their respective posts!¡± Screamed Zaldor Treiin, the general commander. The first wall, had never been a great line of defense, as it was widespread and the gate had been weak.

    The second wall gave hope to withstand longer, since the gates were crafted from solid oak wood, more than two meters thick. Impossible to overcome with only axes. As the enemies forces gathered outside the gates, and a single Alb had mounted the wall with a bow, it became impossible to retake the wall. The black arrows dispersed of any and all scouts that approached and defeated any hope for information to be gathered or ambushes to work.

    Thasun had raised the idea that he would try to catch and defeat the dark eyed bowman, but the officers ordered him to defend on the wall. They were afraid of losing him. A little insulted, the swordmaster used the time to meditate and recover his strength. As the sun slowly began to vanish on the horizon, the next attack started. A large tree, that had been bound to ten strong war horses. Five to each side, with riders on top that hit the horses to get the maximum amount of effort out of them. The horses had been blinded and thick straw mats were wrapped around their bodies to shield them from arrows. They were K¨®rran war horses, about forty centimeters higher than normal horses and powerful stamina. The few bowmen on the wall that tried to intercept the suddenly approaching ram were helpless. Black feathered albic arrows ended then before they could mount an effective defense.

    A little later the improvised ram crashed into the gate. Horses broke on impact, getting mangled into the wood, as the large tree trunk penetrated the gate right in the middle. The heavy gate got blown open by the insanely strong impact, with horses getting thrown around and their riders battered and crushed within the construction. Immediately Thasun ordered the reserve soldiers to get them out of the way and repair the gate, though the next attack of cavalry was on its way.

    Thousands of mounted archers filled the city, covering the walls with arrows, while a few melee riders tried to breach the gate further. Then it became clear that this had been but a distraction move. Hundreds of siege ladders, crudely crafted and mostly faulty looking, were carried in, and soon every rider that did not hold a bow or was out of arrows, tried to mount the wall. Those that looked back or hesitated found a black feathered arrow between their lungs all too soon.

    Fear and panic paired with the strong will to survive, made the horse folk fight like possessed as they threw themselves against the defenders. Thasun covered a large part of the wall himself to give the garrison more leeway. The area of three ladders were covered, as he thoroughly crushed anyone climbing up with quick stabs and sword strikes. The durak steel katana took scratches, but remained strong. The swordmaster hoped that it would last until he was able to face those dark eyed Albs. It was easy to dispose of the attackers on the wall, since they were uncoordinated due to their rush, were fighting in unfamiliar territory, not on their horses or generally worse at duelling that Thasun was.

    Trying to keep as much energy as possible he lost himself in a blood rush, as he dashed back and forth. Half an hour later, gaps in the defenses began to show. Ordering the backup to defend his position he began to rush from lost spot to lost spot, breaking the attackers progress and drawing their attention. Black feathered arrows were fired at him all too often. More than one time he had to dive down or jump back due to the long distance harassment. It demanded all of his concentration, as he tried to keep the wall from being breached anywhere. Where he crushed the attackers, surges of motivation ignited the men¡¯s morale.

    Yet the second wall fell only an hour later. The gate, that had been compromised had not been able to be cleared in time, as more and more riders attempted to breach the perimeter. The soldiers had fought bravely to defend against the horse folk, though they were showered in arrows all the time, as the mounted archers shifted their focus to support them.

    As the gate fell and the enemy forces poured into the second part of the city, hundred of them began to ignite the houses, sowing chaos, grief and terror. Retreat was issued and the garrison began to draw back over the wall towards the western side. From there they pushed in towards the third wall, where the next battle would take place.

    Here the defenders stood before a bigger problem: the walls offered less protection from arrows and were lower as well.

    Thasun, however, did not retreat. He had descended down into the outer parts of the city to hunt a special kind of prey: Albae. If they were left to command the K¨®rren Lahn further and assist the siege with their bows, defense would become a nightmare. The unfolding chaos of fire and flames allowed for Thasun to approach one of them easily. The horse folk was too busy setting the city ablaze to suspect him at all. Only a single warrior wanted to stop him and was quickly put down by the swordmaster.

    Then he finally stood before him. In shining, black armor and a dark longbow in hand, the Alb sat upon his Nightmare. The mutated unicorn turned to face Thasun and stared at him with glowing red eyes. Smoke rose from it¡¯s nostrils. It¡¯s rider took of the dark dur¨¢ssium helmet and a pair of dark eyes eyed him. The demonic looking eyes made for a frightening look, and distorted the beauty this enemy possessed. Flawless white skin, smooth straight hair that flowed down his back and a handsome face made him seems even more unnatural. Thasun had to blink to focus. It was distracting to just look at his face.

    ¡°Ah. The swordsman. Ready to die, I see. You are fighting well¡­ for a mere, filthy¡­ human.¡± The Alb spat these last words out in disgust as he dismounted and drew a long and thin blade. ¡°You know¡­ we assumed you to be over there.¡± He pointed his sword towards the inner city. The castle that family Thalor called their own. It was burning. Thasun could see flames rise from the windows and a cloud of smoke rose above as well.

    ¡°Now it is too late, though I am glad you save us the trouble of searching for you.¡± A new voice called out to him from behind. Then the second Alb, a woman, walked casually past him. In her hands she held three heads. Lady Irina Thalor and her youngest son, Harlen Thalor, as well as the commanding general Zaldor Treiin.

 Chapter 13

    Thasun¡¯s knees gave out under him. The desperate feeling of helplessness was slowly creeping in. He did everything in his power to prevent such a thing! He defended the walls. Carefully observed those two Albae and put them under Surveillance at every step. He even went as far as to risk his own life to try and take one of them down.

    Yet they had been faster. He gazed upon the painful expressions the three heads showed in the hands of the female Alb.

    Minv¨¢vriel, the sister of Van¨¢tor¨¢s, mocked Thasun with a quiet laugh. ¡°Aww. Are you giving in to despair already? Do not worry. We will send you after them right away. How naive to believe that mere humans could do even the slightest thing against us. This battle is over. I will send those ugly mugs on spears through the battle lines. As soon as I do, their morale will collapse and the defenders will give in.¡±

    Thasun remained on his knees and rested his hand on the handle of his katana, while the woman, clad from head to toe in plate armor, stepped over to her brother. Her voice was enchanting. Mesmerizing and beautiful. It was distracting him and seducing him at the same time. How could any being have such a beautiful voice, yet be so cruel at the same time?

    ¡°What do you intend to do with the city?¡± He tried, though he had to concentrate not to call her ¡°your grace¡± or ¡°M¡¯Lady¡±. He blinked his confusion away, as he tried to bring his mind to order with the basics of meditation. Luckily it was Van¨¢tor¨¢s, that answered in her stead.

    ¡°We offer it to the flames. Sandrei will fall and its inhabitants will be slaves. Or they die. I will indulge in some sort of art of never seen beauty as well, I think. So some will have to perish as they do the honor.¡± The Alb was staring at the flames of the burning city with awe.

    Thasun finally succeeded in emptying his head. All his thinking focused on his sole purpose. His sword. Slowly he rose and did not leave his opponent out of his eyes. The blade that Van¨¢tor¨¢s was carrying, was about two finger broads of width, as well as eighty centimeters of length. It did not possess any sword handy to parry. A weapon focused solely on offense. Thasun drew his own with a slow and calm motion and aligned it in front of his body. He decided to defend the first strike of his enemy as well as counter attack with the third Iordai Style. Demon Hunt. The Alb was waiting to begin though.

    ¡°You humans are all the same. Filthy, dirty insects. Worthless. Swordsman, you are not the first that caught my eye. From time to time some pierce out from the masses, that overshadowed the existence of others. But they always disappoint me. Will you as well? Are you going to?¡± Van¨¢tor¨¢s asked with calm voice.

    Thasun steeled himself for the coming fight. ¡°No. I will not disappoint you.¡± He took in some air, focused and looked the pointy eared bastard right into his dark, black eyes. ¡°I will KILL you!¡±

    Immediately Van¨¢tor¨¢s dashed forward and crossed the distance towards the swordmaster in an instant. The thin, dark blade was raised at a stabbing motion approximately on the height of Thasuns heart. He could not believe the speed at which the Alb came at him. He could barely bring up his sword to try and deflect the attack. But the blade barely budged!

    Thasun stepped back and grabbed the dull side of his katana to put more power into his defense. Van¨¢tor¨¢s¡¯ blade moved upwards, not without scratching Thasuns shoulder though. The bloody scratch was nothing. The Alb hurriedly retracted his sword and caught Thasuns two handed attack with ease. A dent appeared in Thasuns durak steel katana.

    How was it possible for such a thin blade to be this stable and compact? Thasun gritted his teeth and immediately prepared for another attack. ¡°Third Style. Demon Hunt.¡±

    The swordmaster let energy flow into his arms and legs to be able to execute the technique. With a quick jump he catapulted himself forward, let out three heavy, two handed strikes to critical areas of his opponent, as well as one to the back of his head as he passed him.

    The Alb flicked his blade around in a playful gesture and denied Thasuns attack completely. ¡°Haha. Was that really it?¡±

    Quickly Thasun rolled himself up, only to use the second Iordai style while getting up. ¡°Iordai: Zenzen!¡± His blade shot forth out of his rotation and a long distance attack flew towards the pointy eared bastard.

    The Alb moved his blade against the gust of air that was aiming for him immediately, destroying the destructive force in the process. ¡°Why are you giving names to your attacks, when they are only childish gimmicks?¡ä¡± The Alb flicked his sword three times in Thasuns direction. Shortly after three small scratches opened on his cheek. ¡°You humans are so weak.¡±Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

    Thasun bit his own lip, until he tasted blood. ¡°Eight Iordai Style: One hundred twenty-eight moon flowers.¡±

    But Van¨¢tor¨¢s was faster. While the swordmaster was still preparing, the dark eyed Alb crossed the distance towards him in a heartbeat. The swordsman spotted the movement, though had been far too slow to defend for it. The thin, black dur¨¢ssium blade made his way into Thasuns body and cut through his heart.

    Unbelieving the swordmaster stared at the red, glistering blood, that slowly dripped over the blade towards the ground. His own blood. He knew, that this was his end. A destroyed heart was a absolute death sentence. Yet he felt weird. His body did not collapse. It did not give in. He did not fall to the ground.

    Van¨¢tor¨¢s raised his eyebrows. What was this odd aura? He jumped backwards and pulled the blade with him. Immediately a wave of energy sprung forth from the mortally wounded swordsman. Dazzling white light shone from the wound, the mount, nose, ears and his eyes.

    Thasun let out a shrill, changed roar, while the light shone outwards in cones of light from his eyes, ears and wound. Then it stopped. His wound was gone. He was able to breathe properly again. His whole body felt refreshed in fact. Full of energy. He raised his katana and eyed the blue shimmer inside the darkness of his blade. Something talked to him. He did not know what it was.

    Van¨¢tor¨¢s smirked. ¡°Ha! I like you. A cultivator too? Interesting. Then show me what you can do.¡±

    Thasun did not know what the pointy ear talked about, but he was certain that this energy was exactly like his great master had taught him. ¡°Zenzen.¡± He swung his katana at the Alb casually. The power of his swing alone sent a shockwave into a building behind himself. He grit his teeth. All his control was messed up now. There was no way for Thasun to use a highly technical thing like Zenzen anymore. It would be hard to beat the Alb now.

    ¡°Is that all?¡± Van¨¢tor¨¢s asked arrogantly.

    ¡°No.¡± Thasun said, as he dashed at his enemy. Two blades connected hard. The durak steel katana took another dent, though Thasun was slowly able to push Van¨¢tor¨¢s back. As soon as he would retreat or try to counter, he would unleash all the might of the eight style of the Iordai school upon him. One hundred twenty-eight moon flowers.

    Though, before Thasun could even attempt to attack, another hard sting of pain ripped through him. Another blade of Dur¨¢ssium, that exited through his ribcage. He had been impaled. This time he felt all his energy fade. He turned his head, only to spot a black Dur¨¢ssium helmet. Long, blonde hair fell on her plate armor, as Minv¨¢vriel revealed her face. In this darkness, he could spot a hint of her pupils, hiding in the shadow real of her eyes. A gentle green.

    Her beauty was robbing him every ability to speak or breathe. Or was it the blade? He did not know. Then he sank into her smooth embrace of death as she whispered sweetly: ¡°Nobody hurts my beloved. Die peacefully. You fought well¡­. for a mere human.¡± Then Thasun sank in everlasting darkness.

    <hr>

    Meanwhile Ollowyn woke in the Valley of Ending. A tear was rolling down his cheeks and fell on his soft sleeping spot. He had dreamt of a burning city that he had never seen before. Yet a deep sadness filled his heart as he remembered the fires. As if he had lost something dear to himself. Around his body, there was wrapped a silver chain. The other sleeping spots were empty. Though an old man, tightly packed in sheets, was leaning against a wall on the other side of the room.

    He stared at him with gentle eyes. ¡°Welcome back, boy.¡±

    Ollowyn wanted to reply, but his body felt too tired. ¡°Ahrhr.¡± He croaked.

    ¡°You should rest. Your body will feel powerless for some time.¡± The old man wrapped his blankets tighter around himself. As he spotted Ollowyn¡¯s confused face, he explained further: ¡°You were poisoned. You nearly died and Thasun found a way to cure you. We barely saved you though. You should sleep.¡±

    Ollowyn did not understand the words the old man spoke. He had a lot to learn. He eyed the ceiling of the sanctum and wished for nothing more than to return to the woods to hunt. He was hungry.

    The boy turned to face the old man, as he re-adjusted himself to the side. ¡°Arr. Thrrrankrr.¡± His voice barely giving in to his demands. The man nodded and Ollowyn surrendered himself to sleep again.

    Ritto Iordai sighed. Hopefully Thasun was alright. It would have not been that easy to secure such an artifact with ease. Curiously he eyed the letter of Lady Irina Thalor and opened it to read it for the first time.

    My dear Master Iordai.

    In the last years, there had been many moments where I dreaded my husband and longed to be with you. His love was suffocating at times and I really missed you a lot. The fact that you left me behind, had never been easy for me.

    I heard from one of your students, that you have been poisoned. That it was looking bad. In the hope that we can meet again in this life, I granted his wish for the Nepheniel and send it to you. Though it is unlikely that we do.

    Our enemies are standing on our borders. This time it looks to be different. I fear they will attack our city. Zenshin would be in grave danger if Sandrei falls. But I don¡¯t want to paint a solely dark picture. I hope your student can help us here.

    After all these years I cannot think that I would not regret my decision. I should have followed you, no matter where your way would lead you. But now it is too late. I suspect that my husband has fallen as well. He took two of my sons with him too. Now only one hope remains in my life.

    I beg of you¡­ come to my court. Teach my youngest son. Keep me company, like in old times.

    In the hope that my desperate words reach your heart,

    Regretfully,

    Lady Irina Bethilia of Thalor

    The great master was reaching for a small dark red stone in his pocket. He concentrated briefly to ignite a small, tiny flame. Quickly he surrendered the letter to the fire. A tear left his eye and dripped onto the floor. He just couldn¡¯t. He had to protect his students and the Valley of Ending. And if he had to betray the whole world to do so¡­ So be it.

 Chapter 14

    Jarya Zhulan, Minister for Internal Affairs of the Empire of Valuan, swallowed another pill of herbs and washed the disgusting medicine down with a big gulp of red wine. The taste was bitter and the sweet Lithian wine did not really improve on it. Jarya coughed loudly and grabbed for his walking cane.

    It had been years since he was last able to walk from one room to another without relying on this wooden walking support. As a almost seventy year old man it would have been weird for him to jump around like a teenager. He chuckled to himself. The minister also grabbed a notebook and his quill and made his way out of the stuffy study.

    The rather small room, located at the seventh floor of a guard tower, had been used as a office for the Ministry of Internal Affairs for almost three hundred years now. A ministry that had been founded solely to gather and process information and instigate quick responses. The minister himself was appointed by the emperor personally for life and it was a very honorary position. At least it should have been. Though since now already forty years, Jarya was simply gathering information only to relay it to a ruler that thought very little of public opinion. Even at times, where the reports should have given way to concern, Jarya hardly ever found anyone to listen to his advice.

    Sighing, he slowly descended the staircase and thought of all the wasted hours of hard and proper work, that had never been used. The countless warnings he had issued on possible trading conspiracies, smugglers or rebellious dukes. It was frightening how ignorant the emperor was at times.

    Jarya shook his head and banned these unnecessary and treacherous thoughts of his mind. The only news, that counted for the royal family, Thersin, were information regarding the old blood of the Valur¨¦n.

    The bloodline of the former imperial family still remained strong. Even though they were all killed hundreds of years ago, their infidelities with whores, minor ladies and all sorts of citizens, had strewn their blood all over the country. Every few years there was a child born somewhere within Valuan, with the characteristic silver-white hair of the Valur¨¦n bloodline. The task of the Ministry of Internal Affairs, was to find those, report them to the emperor and send assassins or order them killed by local soldiers. Since his inauguration there had been 43 Valur¨¦n children born, found and killed. It would have been weighing heavily on his heart if he did any more than just report his findings and receive a descriptive report with either ¡°eliminated¡± or ¡°eliminated with xy complications¡±.

    Sighing he starred out of the window. Sometimes he had his doubts. Eyeing the royal gardens, that the Thersin family called their own, he gazed at the hundreds of small fountains and waterways that drew through grass and flower fields that were cared for by dozens of gardeners. Overshadowed only by the very rare Arponexi trees, that were know for their stunningly beautiful pink flower petals and their sweet and delicate fruits.

    The size of the fruits were approximately that of a strawberry, though the were more solid and green. Only a single bite into the crunchy and bitter peel revealed a sweet, pink-violet core. The combination of those two tastes united uniquely and made the fruit all the more delicious.

    Jarya had tosmile, that even the large Tharken war dogs of the royal palace would prefer the Nexi fruitsover raw meat.

    He played with the thought of visiting the royal stables to feed a few of the whelps. But with his next step a heavy sting of pain shot up from his leg into his back. The thought of walking all the way down to them were quickly growing less appealing. He decided to just pick a few fruits for himself and to enjoy the sunlight in the palace garden. With a bit of luck he would even get to talk to a member of the royal family by chance to relay some informations directly instead of having to write lengthy reports that were hardly ever read. Yet just as he stepped out of the shadows of the tower, a well known face came running at him.The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

    ¡°Cliff? Why are you back already? This soon?¡± Jarya Zhulan croaked before he coughed to fix his shaky voice.

    ¡°Minister.¡± Clifford Hrilldon exclaimed quickly, before he bowed to try and catch his breath. The budgetary advisor for the Ministry of Internal Affairs looked like he saw a ghost. ¡°Bad news, I¡¯m afraid. Minister, you should probably sit down.¡±

    Jarya frowned. ¡°Revolts to the south? Did something slip our informants attention? Or again problems with the trading guilds? Is it the war effort?¡± He asked in a calm tone as he stepped back into the tower. It was necessary to remain level headed. No use in getting excited. That was just bad for his health.

    While the minister sat down on the staircase, Clifford tried to hastily summarize. ¡°The Temple of Order thinks that the assassin, that we sent for the Valur¨¦n child, was killed in action. It has been three months since he called in which is unprecedented.¡±

    ¡°Hmm. Not the best message.¡± Jarya explained in a calm manner, resting his head thoughtfully on his cane.

    ¡°Not the best message?! The emperor will be enraged! Minister, you know just as well as I do, that the return of a true Valur¨¦n is feared.¡± Clifford threw him a worried and almost angry glare. ¡°What if they release you from your duty? And not in the good way?¡±

    ¡°It is almost winter. The north will be drowning in snow now, and sending an assassin now would be outright stupid.¡± Jarya gestured for his employee to sit down as well. ¡°My dear Cliff, you know I¡¯m not in the best of shapes. My health is deteriorating. Maybe I will live for a year. Maybe five. But a child aged seven will not be a credible threat to us.¡±

    ¡°Minister, the Valur¨¦n are dangerous. What if one of them really comes all the way into the capital? You know what is hidden in the Temple of Order in Antalia. How could he claim that it is not of importance?!¡±

    Jarya hit his employee softly with his walking cane against his head. ¡°Calm down Mr. Hrilldon.¡± He shook his head frantically over the impatience of his advisor. ¡°I will introduce you to a certain piece of knowledge that will calm your worried mind.¡± The old man smiled cryptically. ¡°A true Valur¨¦n only awakes in the year of his sixteenth life cycle. After that awakening took place, his eyes will take a violet color and he will slowly gain access to his innate powers of his bloodline.¡±

    Clifford Hrilldon raised his eyebrows. ¡°That means, a child will be unable to use the Sword of Ending? Only after the awakening?¡±

    ¡°Correct. It will be a threat in nine years at the earliest. Until then the southern war will be over long ago and we can take care of this properly.¡± Jarya sighed. ¡°Though I will not be alive for that anyway. We will gather information regarding the child and we will try to get someone close to him. Besides¡­ Zenshin is allied to us, so we can try to get to him by political means as well.¡±

    ¡°So for now we do nothing? Do we even tell the emperor?¡± Cliff frowned.

    ¡°No.¡± The old man decided. ¡°The boy may live for now. My successor will have the unpleasant mission to get rid of this mess. My family cannot take the failure of an old man. And you will relay this problem as a ¡°new¡± development to the next minister. He will solve it, especially being in your care.¡±

    After he saw the worried gaze of his advisor he added: ¡°Don¡¯t be a fool. You are promised to my niece. Before I am dead I want to see our families united. Don¡¯t risk your own future by telling the emperor, when we can just let my successor handle it. He can send an army, a group of assassins or whatever else he will deem necessary.¡±

    Clifford nodded, much relieved. ¡°Understood.¡±

    The Valur¨¦n won some time again. Clifford had not believed his own ears when he had first heard the story. Born in Zizhenua, a small city to the north of Valuan, his mother had barricaded herself to hide his identity for weeks.

    Then she even fled the city northwards, to save her child. When caught she hid the child and took her own life by biting off her tongue. She likely hoped that someone would find it and save it. After the town soldiers were unable to find the child, the town major reported that they left it in the woods to die. A old tradition that was often used for crippled babies in the area.

    It had been a very unpleasant event for the town major, when a seven year old child was spotted north of the border and had been taken by a foreign swordsman. His head was no longer attached to his body.

    Though the child¡¯s luck had not run out. As if it was not enough, that he was found by someone that offered him shelter, they even defended him against one of the best assassins the Temple of Order in Antalia had to offer.

    Clifford was really curious if this luck would remain even in the future¡­

 Chapter 15

    Six years had passed, since Ollowyn had recovered from the poison attack. Ever since then a lot had changed. The Sword Fighting School of Ritto Iordai was now bigger than ever and already resembled a small fortress rather than a fighting school. The walls were raised to four meters of height and a big watchtower already throned in one of the four corners. Three more were currently a work in process. Ollowyn yawned and rose from his sleeping spot on the flat roof of the tower.

    He loved to sleep in high up places, especially since the warm summer nights made it possible to spend the night below the stars. It also helped against his newly developed habit of oversleeping. When he had been a member of a wolf pack, rising after the first sunlight had been very uncommon. Too much hunting to do. Now he pretty much slept through half the day unless someone woke him up. The boy stretched, still half asleep and stared towards the mountains. Pass Dun¨¦in. Sadness overcame him for a brief moment.

    Thasun had never returned and it weighed heavily on Ollowyn. He missed his master. His pack leader. Though, after all these years he had no illusions regarding Thasuns fate. He was likely dead. However that may be, he would still try to find out what happened to him and avenge his death. A man like Thasun Torre¨ª did not die peacefully just like that. Sighing Ollowyn climbed off the roof and hopped on the Platform that wrapped around the top of the watchtower. From there he eyed the Valley of Ending.

    A lot had changed. The old, burned down house of Alissa''s father had been completely torn down and had been replaced by a new, much bigger and much more impressive house. Karthan Cr¡¯Axsun, the former fourth master of the Iordai clan, now lived there with her. They had two young children. He had survived his burns and thanks to the Nepheniel was hardly scarred. Only small traces remained and showed off his devotion to his beloved.

    That she had not even been inside, made it all the more romantic to her. As soon as he had recovered she asked him to marry her. The great master immediately allowed him to do so and leave. In his words ¡°he did not need anyone suicidal¡± and that ¡°it is good that we found someone that looks after this idiot.¡±

    The village had grown by quite a few houses as well, though the biggest change happened outside of the peaceful village. A large part of the woods had been cut down to create space. Now there stood a few dozen houses. Refugees, that Lord Engur¨¢ll had sent, settled there to avoid conflicts with the village. Ollowyn himself had helped to knock down trees and build houses, whenever he found the time to do so.

    The great master had even ordered him to do so, though Ollowyn would have spent any free minute helping anyway. His pack was growing everyday. The stories that the refugees told him there helped to form an universal education as he learned from all sorts of different jobs, landscapes and customs. It especially improved his language, speaking while he got taught how to read and write.

    His presence had also alleviated the cultural pressure between the two villages and he connected them to exchange stories and trade. The biggest connector had been Karthan though, as he helped out with his woodworking skill to build houses and teach them how to craft spears, bows and arrows from scratch.

    Mainly he had done so because that was the newly formed contract with Zenshin: Take in refugees, help them build and grow. Then there was the tribute they had to deliver to the mountain fortress Than D¨²in and form a standing army of refugees, that Zenshin could use to defend their country. An agreement that most of the desperate people took without a second though. At least they could have their families living in security, while the men were out there fighting for their new found home country.

    Ollowyn dressed himself in the typical Iordai fashion. A white practice robe with a bamboo sword. Then he descended the tower. He hoped that the refugee army would return soon. It had almost been two years and their return was now imminent. Hopefully there were no unrests in the east as they attempted to reclaim Sandrei and rebuilt the city. It was already bad that Thasun had vanished, but if all those men also died that would be a real devastating blow to the Valley of Ending.

    After the battle Sandrei had been found plundered, looted and empty. That had not helped to ease concerns though. Apparently the K¨®rren Lahn had executed a cruel example upon the inhabitants of Sandrei. Hundreds of citizens had been slaughtered, their arms and hands chopped off, and were piled on top of each other to resemble the outline of a tree.

    Apparently they had even used fingers and toes as well as children''s limbs to resemble twigs. Eyes, ears and noses had been skillfully formed to resemble leaves and stitched to the tree. A tree that had looked so stunningly real that it shook everyone that saw it to their cores. One of the scouts had attempted to draw the tree in order to report it to his liege, though he had been unable to catch the incredible details...

    Ollowyn was now thirteen years old. He had grown up to a meter and seventy centimeters and was towering over most children that were of his age. His silver white hair had grown longer and reached all the way to the center of his back. Slim and muscular he looked a lot older than he actually was. On his white cloth robes he had pinned a wooden signia with the number ¡°2¡±. Only a single opponent stood between himself and being the first rank of the Iordai school, that had now approximately sixty members.

    Marun K¨ªreii was this man. The first master of the Iordai Sword Fighting School. In the past six years Ollowyn had grown a lot. Today would be his fourth challenge to the first master of the Iordai clan. If he wins, he would be allowed access to the sanctum, where he had to face the great master himself in a trial to gain the rank of a master.

    As he was about to enter the training hall, three students were blocking him access. Their bamboo swords resting on their shoulders, they stared at him. If you encounter this tale on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.

    ¡°Mephian. Grish.¡± Ollowyn sighed and raised his own sword. ¡°Wardun. Where is Irto? Is he not joining you today?¡±

    A rather corpulent boy shrugged. ¡°He is waiting inside. He thought it would be disrespectful to attack you together.¡±

    Mephian grinned. ¡°As if it would be easy to win.¡± Then he drew a smaller bamboo sword, while Wardun raised a shield and Grish added a bamboo club to his weapons. ¡°Ready?¡±

    Ollowyn nodded. ¡°Ready.¡±

    Just seconds later the three boys lay on the ground. Disarmed. Mephian sighed. He felt his own improvements every single day, yet Ollowyn was starting to get further and further ahead. What could he even do?

    As soon as the silver haired boy stepped inside he was challenged again. This time by Irto. The fight lasted for about a minute, before Ollowyn was able to overcome him once more. Ollowyn bowed and then proceeded towards Zartha. The second master with the current rank ¡°3¡± was raising an eyebrow and let him pass. In his opinion the boy should have achieved the rank of a master months ago. He trained on his own, found his own style and was very good at teaching other students what he knew. His presence was respected and honored by them.

    To wait any longer would just slow down his growth. ¡°Go. Marun is waiting.¡±

    Ollowyn nodded and stepped towards the middle of the hall. The other students had taken a seat alongside the wall already and waited patiently for the fight to take place. One of their own could rise to the rank of a master for the first time. Someone that was younger than most of them. The circumstances had already raised morale and motivation was at an all time high. Now every single student had a clear goal to reach no matter how hard they had to train.

    Marun rose as Ollowyn approached him. ¡°Ready?¡± He held the greeting short. His long, blonde hair was bound to a pigtail, while he was wearing the typical white training cloth of the Iordai school. Only a small red insignia told of his master rank. His eyes gazed at Ollowyn. He was very focused, unlike his usual sleepy self.

    Ollowyn bowed. ¡°I, Ollowyn Torre¨ª, challenge the first master of the Iordai Sword Fighting School, Marun K¨ªreii, to a fight for graduation.¡± His new surname, Torre¨ª, that he inherited from his former master, was worn by Ollowyn with pride.

    ¡°Accepted.¡± With this word the master raised his weapon and strode calmly towards Ollowyn.

    The silver haired boy did not wait for his attack though. He jumped forward himself and forced the bamboo sword with a stabbing motion towards the torso of Marun. The first master immediately tried to defend with a upward blocking motion.

    However, the attack never came. Ollowyn had stopped his attack mid-motion, while crossing more distance. As soon as the defending motion of Marun had passed its intended target, Ollowyn stabbed at him again. The first master already saved himself with a quick sidestep. What speed!

    Now Ollowyn had to defend himself. The attack was coming from above and impacted hard. Even though the two swords were entirely made of bamboo, the powerful blow made his fingers go numb for a moment. But he persisted and used his solid position to kick at Maruns pivoting leg.

    Marun retreated, evaded the kick, only to strike again. Multiple attacks were raining down on Ollowyn. Upper left side, lower right side, a blow to the torso, two stabs at his thighs. The first master used all the opportunities that he could get and laid it out on Ollowyn. The boy, however, evaded, blocked and countered to create room for himself to recover from the harsh strikes.

    Quickly it was clear to the other students that the two sword fighters were of equal strength. Every attack found itself blocked or evaded, every counter was read with easy. Feints were only motioned slightly and neither of the two fell for one.

    For Ollowyn this was frustrating, since nothin he tried seemed to work. Was there still such a huge gap? Again he tried for a desperate attack combination. A attack from below, only stopped just short of impacting Maruns sword, he used the defensive motion to get behind his opponent and stab at him multiple times. The master evaded by jumping forward and turning to face Ollowyn again.

    ¡°Tch.¡± Ollowyn jumped back himself to gain some distance. He finally noticed what had been wrong! He was easily looked through! The first master always knew what he was thinking and could guess his attack motions, only to counter them afterwards or mid motion. Ollowyn thought back to the times when he was still traveling with Thasun. He was thinking of an attack that his pack leader used to practice. An attack that was left unfinished.

    Ollowyn closed his eyes for a moment to concentrate. He kept the sound of his opponent in mind, just in case the first master would lash out at his again. Quickly he remembered the familiar motion Thasun had practiced. Ollowyn hesitated. The first time he had used a style of the Iordai school, he had injured himself. Would his body now be able to withstand it?

    Ollowyn raised the sword in front of his body and concentrated on his breathing. His concentration rose further and his legs started to feel a bit numb. A tingling feeling drew upwards into his whole body. Yes. This felt good. Maybe it would really work like this?

    In the meanwhile Marun was staring at the kid. What was he doing? He had just closed his eyes without a warning. What was he planning? It couldn¡¯t be¡­ right? Was it possible?

    And really, the boy moved with lightning speed. Three fast steps and he stood in front of Marun, his weapon raised for a final attack. As Ollowyn brought his blade down, Marun realised: he would be too slow. Immediately he surrendered to his instincts and just acted on a instincts alone.

    ¡°Kordu¨ª.¡± He sidestepped the attack and brought his body right next to Ollowyn. With a quick attack he tried to hit the boy on the side of his head.

    Ollowyn reacted perfectly to his evasion though. His blade struck down, hit the first master hard against his upper body, sending him stumbling backwards. However, the last attack that Marun mustered against the kid hit Ollowyn hard in his face. A draw.

    Ollowyn fell down backwards to take some force out of the strike, while the students began to talk about and discussed the fight. He sighed. It had not been enough. His left leg hurt a bit, though by far not as much as the first time he had attempted to use a Iordai Style. With a bit of practice he would master this idea of Thasun¡¯s. How he would call the attack however¡­ he did not know.

    Marun suddenly stood above him. A smile rested on his face. ¡°Well done, kid.¡± He handed Ollowyn the wooden badge. Rank One. Then he took the boys second rank badge and helped him up. ¡°You can go to the great master now. You have earned it.¡±

    The volume inside of the training hall rose to a thunderstorm of cheers and applause. Dozens of students ran past the first master and congratulated Ollowyn loudly. Some hit him hard on the back, other shook his hand or hugged him. This day dozens of students decided to devote their entire life to the sword. To reach the same heights as Ollowyn had.

    While Ollowyn appreciated their feelings and loved most of them like brothers, he was glad to escape the loud attention and leave the training hall. Slowly he made his way towards the sanctum. All the training had paid off. A tear of relief rolled down his cheek. He finally made it here. A little nervous of entering the room in which the great master trained, he hesitated for a moment.

    For a second he seriously considered to just turn around again, to do it later. Then he grabbed the slide door and pushed it open with a sigh. Immediately his anxiety was gone.

 Chapter 16

    Ollowyn pushed the sliding door open and entered the anteroom of the sanctum. Nervous he sat down and laid his bamboo sword in front of him ceremonially.

    Master Iordai did not let him wait for long. The old little man stepped out of the sanctum and sat down in front of Ollowyn. He looked older. Almost frail. His eyes had a friendly and amused charm though.

    ¡°Finally. I have waited a long time for you to reach me.¡± He smiled. ¡°Hereby I declare you the fifth master of the Iordai Fighting School.¡±

    Ollowyn accepted a bundle of black cloth. It was very much heavier than he had expected. He eyed the great master curiously.

    ¡°You might not remember this. The last time one of the other masters wore this armor was the day you got poisoned. Everyone of them owns one.¡± The old man smiled proudly. ¡°But this is not the only thing you will receive from me today.¡±

    He reached beside himself and presented Ollowyn a sword. ¡°It isn¡¯t special, or anything. A simple steel sword, forged by a decent blacksmith.¡±

    Ollowyn drew the blade from its sheath and looked at his own eyes in the blade¡¯s reflection. It was good and beautiful steel, but the handle looked quite used to him.

    ¡°I thought it would be appropriate for you to carry Thasun¡¯s old sword.¡± The old man spoke sorrowfully. ¡°He used to call it Silver Swallow.¡±

    A tear crept down Ollowyn¡¯s cheek before it impacted the cold steel. He missed Thasun. ¡°Thank you...¡± He paused for a second. ¡°Master?¡±

    ¡°Can I search for him?¡± Ollowyn looked at him pathetically. His eyes were determined.

    ¡°He is dead Ollowyn. You will not find him, even if you search your whole life. The city was burnt down and worse and nobody had even heard of Thasun ever since then. Even if they captured him for some reason¡­ Such a journey is just too dangerous for you.¡± Ritto Iordai looked tired. He sat down a little closer and reached for Ollowyn¡¯s shoulder. ¡°Zenshin will sooner or later go eastwards to expand. and rebuild Sandrei. It will be very likely that you will be there too. Don''t worry about it for now.¡±

    The boy nodded. ¡°Alright.¡±

    Then the old master stood up, drawing his own sword. He ordered him to follow and entered the sanctum through another door. It was a very simple, squared room with large log in the center that acted as a supporting pillar. Aside from that, a simple sleeping spot and a few wooden weapons the room was completely empty. ¡°Now show me what you have learned.¡±

    Ollowyn drew Silver Swallow and pressed the attack. The ¡°duel¡± was in no way even remotely fair. The old master parried every single strike not only with playful innocence, wherever the blades met the power of Ollowyn was caught and neutralized and both weapons remained undamaged.

    It was unbelievable how this old man was able to read through his movement so easily. Quickly Ollowyn realised the huge mountain of a difference in skill. He stepped back a few steps and eyed his opponent again.

    Ritto Iordai was small. Ollowyn was almost half a meter bigger, but it did not feel like that at all. It was as if he was looking at a large stone, behind which a skyhigh wave was threatening to smash him to pieces at any given moment. If it decided to it would crush him without him being able to even move against it.

    Goosebumps ran all over his body and Ollowyn withdrew Silver Swallow back into her sheath. In this fight he would have to go beyond anything he had shown before. More than the techniques of the old master. He grabbed the sheath in his left, holding it to his hipp. His stance lowered.

    The old man smiled in anticipation. It was only for a brief second but Ollowyn felt the aura change. His body reacted, be began to sweat heavily and the pressure was slowly overwhelming him. Ollowyn growled loudly and grabbed the hilt of his sword with his right.

    Then he spoke: ¡°Thasun Style: Shin-sin. Sun-sun!¡±

    Ollowyn used the movement of the Kordu¨ª technique to dash forward slightly. He ripped Silver Swallow out of her hull, sending a sharp and quick hit horizontally towards the head of the great master. Without waiting for results, Ollowyn shot past the old man with the demon hunt technique to get behind him.

    Arriving there, he immediately shot another attack at the back of the great master. It was parried skillfully. Ollowyn used all his power to push himself away further with his strike and pushing his opponents blade aside. Immediately he used the newly gained opening and struck with a sharp Zenzen from the newfound distance.

    Iordai¡¯s eyes shot wide open, before he¡­ evaded. Ollowyn smiled. At least something. The old man had not moved a single step before that.

    ¡°Impressive. You are combining the techniques pretty well already. It seems you already understood the baseline of the 128 moonflower style.¡± The old man sheathed his sword and put it aside. Then he picked up a bamboo sword. It was reinforced by cloth to soften it¡¯s impact further.

    ¡°128 moon flowers?¡± Ollowyn asked curiously.

    ¡°Yes. This technique combines the first three styles of the Iordai Fighting School. Kordu¨ª. Zenzen. Demon Hunt. The first step is gaining control of Kordu¨ª to a better degree.¡± Iordai¡¯s silhouette disappeared almost and reappeared on another location near him, before disappearing again. Even Ollowyn had a lot of trouble just following his movement.

    The old man stopped before he continued his explanations. ¡°For larger distances near you, we use the dash from the Demon Hunt style.¡± He quickly demonstrated the same, abnormal speed with twice, sometimes three times the distance. That such an old man was able to move this way¡­ It was insane.

    ¡°To go on the offence, we use Zenzen, whenever the target is too far away and we feel that a long range attack is more efficient than closing the distance. But we not only use it for far reaching slashes, also for short stabs and hits. The fast and quick attacks the Demon Hunt Style provides we use for close quarter combat.¡± The old man raised his bamboo sword. ¡°Defend yourself. Watch and learn.¡±

    ¡°One.¡± He said sagely and dashed forward. His aura washed over Ollowyn like a tsunami. Immediately he raised his own blade in defense to block the attack. Then the bamboo sword slipped past his guard and clashed with his face. How this attack could possibly go through with such speed¡­ was unimaginably for him.

    But the old man did not let Ollowyn catch much breath. ¡°Two.¡±

    Ollowyn retaliated immediately with a far reaching Zenzen strike, and used his the Kordu¨ª style to counteract the speed. But his abilities were in no way even to those of the great master. Heavy hits impacted on his right and left shoulder respectively.

    ¡°Four.¡±

    Ollowyn jumped backwards, whirling around his blade wildly to provoke easy to discern attacks. But while he was still in the air, he was hit four times on his legs. Unauthorized usage: this tale is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings.

    ¡°Eight.¡± The old man said, mercilessly.

    Thasun waited patiently to be hit in order to retaliate. Two strikes pushed his blade upwards with easy while six more forced him to his knee. It was really starting to hurt.

    How did the old man do this?? He was executing really forceful attacks with a wooden stick against heavy steel and was dominating the encounter? The strong and fierce aura Ollowyn constantly felt did not help things. He was starting to shiver in fear. Sixteen more attacks made him drop his sword and made him use balance as well.

    Thrown backwards, he rolled over and came to his feet on instinct immediately. He raised his arms in a last ditch defensive effort.

    ¡°Thirty-two.¡± The old man now completely vanished out of his field of vision. The only thing he could feel was the pain where the trainingsword impacted his body. Ollowyn remained standing. He was lucky that this bamboo sword was wrapped and padded properly. He was breathing heavily when the old man finished and looked up.

    The fear he felt when the old man eyed him out of cold eyes and spoke ¡°Sixty-Four¡± was something he had never experienced before.

    Sharp pain impacted his defensive posture faster than he ever experienced before. His arms inevitably fell down, presenting his upper body. The hits there let him tumble against the wooden wall of the sanctum. His gaze was getting dizzy and Ollowyn had to force his eyes open to keep the old master in sight.

    <hr>

    Ritto Iordai felt good. Too good. He knew this feeling of power that one was surging towards whenever a new level was approaching rapidly. This would be the fourth time in his life. Thasun had only reached the second before he had left to Sandrei six years ago.

    If he could break through¡­ he would be able to battle an Elb in a fair fight. On even terms. The boy had slumped after taking a few too many hits. He had done better than Iordai had expected. A true Valur¨¦n. It was really about time to speak to him about it.

    But first he wanted to break through. He gathered all his energy and discarded his bamboo sword before he dashed towards the solid log that represented the centerpiece of the sanctum.

    128. All the gathered energy flowed out of his body as he moved with deadly abandon. His hands grew numb from the countless punches he threw at the log in various motions. It was a dance of sorts. A rush of power lead him from one movement to the next, straining his body further and further. It did not even take four seconds before his attack had finished.

    His old hands were bleeding. And his bones screamed in agony. But he felt it. The new rank, rapidly approaching. His newly received wounds, eyes and mouth started glowing outwards in a radiant white light and newfound energy surged through his old body. He exhaled.

    256. He saw the log splintering alongside the wooden walls, hardly noticing his own attacks.

    Halfway through he noticed that something had went terribly wrong. In a wild coughing fit he collapsed to the floor and blood sprayed over the polished wood.

    He began toppling over and started to lose consciousness. In a last effort he managed to sit against the remainder of the large log. Apparently he had failed to break through for the first time. The pain somehow felt familiar. Odd.

    It was the same kind of pain he had felt when he had used the Nepheniel on the boy. Had he used up too much energy back then? Had he injured himself? It would hardly surprise him. The boy had been dead. He eyed the boy that was trying to get on his feet with a very worried expression.

    ¡°Sit down boy. I¡¯m alright. Nothing wrong, only overdid it a tiny bit.¡± He lied, and it seemed to be working. The boy looked a lot less worried immediately. ¡°You did well defending. Better than I expected. You understand the 128 Moonflower Style now?¡±

    <hr>

    Ollowyn nodded. Even beat up and dead tired he could still feel the immense aura the old master gave off. He was not worried for him. He would only start to do so, when he could not feel that any longer.

    Before the tiny old man had used the technique, Ollowyn had been able to feel even more than just that. A power that was really, really frightening. Maybe the old master had not even used all his power? ¡°I understand it. But it will be difficult to learn.¡±

    Ollowyn brought his knees below his body and bowed towards the legendary swordsman.

    ¡°I thank the great master Iordai for this lesson!¡±

    The old man laughed dryly. ¡°Haha. Ha.¡± Then he coughed heavily again, before he continued. ¡°You are a master now, you have to improve all by yourself. Like we all do. Nobody will be able to teach you. You will make for an impressive Valur¨¦n one day.¡±

    Ollowyn frowned. He had no idea what Iordai was talking about. ¡°What is a Valur¨¦n?¡±

    Lightning cracked through the sky in the distance and the following thunder brought rain. The mood in the room was growing darker. It did not help that the aura that the old man was radiating was growing in power. Ollowyn had to swallow.

    Ritto Iordai gazed into the distance before he started to explain. ¡°The Valur¨¦n family was a obliterated ruling family in Valuan. Hundreds of years ago the Thersin had planned and executed a huge coup against the rulers with the help of a few neighbouring countries. It had not been a simple assassination or a reach for power, where a family was thrown into the dungeons never to be heard of again. It was a massacre. Thousands had died.¡±

    Ollowyn listened closely. ¡°For the Valur¨¦n owned a artefact, that was bound to their own bloodline. Their blood was not really of large superiority compared to other humans, but the artefact granted power only to them. Even a young, inexperienced ruler could be transformed in a heartbeat and step up to be an existence that was capable of waging war on a grand scale all by himself. Able to obliterate entire armies single handedly. Of course the Thersin family, that wanted to rule in their stead, could not let any of them stay alive. They killed every single family member of the Valur¨¦n bloodline. Every wife. Every child. They killed young, innocent girls that had only been suspected to have had contact to someone with unnaturally white hair. Everyone that was said to have supported the former rulers bloodline in any way was immediately chained to slavery or killed on the spot.¡±

    Iordai looked at Ollowyn. ¡°All members of the Valur¨¦n family stand out with one distinct feature. Silver-white hair.¡± The boy had to swallow. ¡°Was this the reason why I was poisoned that night?¡±

    The old master nodded. ¡°But that isn''t all. This is very likely also the reason why you were left in the woods and probably responsible for the fact that you will never know your mother and father. Why they did not kill you after you have been born I don¡¯t know. But Valuan wants your death for sure.¡±

    Ollowyn clenched his fist. It made him angry. ¡°Why?? They want me dead, only because I could use a artefact that they have? Why do they not just destroy it? Instead of attacking us?!¡± It was the first time in his life that Ollowyn had felt true anger towards someone else. About something that he had not even know about before. This was also the reason why he had to grow up away from his real mother. He felt conflicted and sad.

    ¡°The Sword of Ending is indestructible. According to legends it will die with the bloodline of the Valur¨¦n and currently it is stuck in a large boulder in Antalia, the capital city of Valuan. Only a true Valur¨¦n could pull it out. The rock itself is protected by the power of the sword.¡± The old man grinned. ¡°You could pull it out once you awaken.¡±

    Ollowyn¡¯s rage subsided and curiosity took its place. A magical sword? How would it look like? If he would have it he could go and search for Thasun. Or search for whoever murdered him. ¡°Awaken?¡± He asked curiously.

    ¡°All members of the Valur¨¦n bloodline awaken when they reach maturity. I don¡¯t know exactly when, but legends speak of sixteen or eighteen years. I wouldn¡¯t know anything about that though.¡± He shrugged. ¡°When your brown eyes change color, you will know, Ollowyn.¡±

    The old man¡¯s aura expanded into the whole room. ¡°I KNEW, that you are going to be special, when Thasun brought you to us. How wild you were. The story of a seven year old kid using a Zenzen strike on his first try. We all knew you had talent. You will be a good warrior. But I have to admit, I did not keep you for talent alone. A Valur¨¦n is a threat to Valuan and Zenshin will never go to war with them unless they get provoked into it.¡±

    Ollowyn frowned. ¡°Is that the reason why Thasun had taken me to you? So you can start a war?¡±

    The old man rose from his position and went to grab Silver-Swallow before he stepped towards Ollowyn. He stared down at him. Cold. ¡°No. Thasun did love you. More than any other student he ever had. Never forget that. I will honor his memory, by doing right by you!¡±

    Ollowyn spotted a tear in the eyes of the old man, and he started to tear up as well. ¡°You will be my heir. You will rule the Valley of Ending and fight for Zenshin in our name. Maybe even more than that. Who knows what the future might bring. For now you are no king. No lord.¡±

    He pressed Thasun¡¯s old sword into Ollowyn¡¯s hand. Then he helped him up.

    ¡°You are my student. Go train. You should not think about more than that for now.¡± Then he hugged Ollowyn around the waist and sent him on his way.

    Ollowyn cried on his way back to his shed.

    And he cried long after falling asleep on the soft sheets while listening to the soft rain outside¡­.

 Chapter 17

    It was deep black night when Clifford Hilldon, Budgetary Advisor for the Ministry of Internal Affairs of Valuan, ran clumsily across the royal keep towards the palace gardens. Only a few stars and an overcast moon threw light on the pergament stripes that he was losing in his wild run again and again. Though it mattered little. What were a few pieces of information in the grand scheme of things? He had urgent matters to report now.

    He hurried up the slight of stairs towards the palace gardens and immediately stumbled into something hard. Parchment flew in all directions as he flinched. He sighed internally. Now he was going to be delayed further.

    Cliff grabbed the strewn about papers frantically as the soldier bowed to help him. ¡°Apologies for my carelessness. The queen mother had sent me to pick Nexi-Berries for Princess Violet and I did not expect anyone to walk up here at this hour.¡± Apparently the two meter tall giant was more than amused to do have been tasked with such low tasks, that were normally given to a slave or a servant.

    He eyed the soldier briefly and immediately recognized him. How could he not? It was Narodin Veltor, the Sword of the Sea. A Legend in its plate armor, right before his eyes. Immediately he bowed to show him the respect the hero deserved. ¡°I apologize, I am very much in a hurry. Please excuse my impoliteness and don''t let me stop you.¡± Then he bowed again, grabbed all his parchments tightly and continued his clumsy form of running. The giant only nodded serenely.

    The famous warrior did not linger in the thoughts of the advisor though. When he arrived at the nearby entry to the large guard tower, all his thoughts were focused on the recent reports. He climbed the spiral staircase up the tower and arrived breathing heavily. Exhausted he downright threw himself against the heavy wooden door, that opened with a creaky sound. Unloading his utensils on a nearby table, he immediately approached the desk of the minister.

    Jarya Zhulan was located in a bed directly behind said desk. The health of the old man had deteriorated in recent years and he had not left the tiny office for quite some time. Clifford saw, that Jarya was awake and immediately started to report. ¡°Minister, the-¡± But his stomach was revolting.

    It took a few moments, before Clif had his dinner under control again. The hasteful run was showing him his bodily limits. It had been too much and he would plan to avoid that in the future. Under the impatient gaze of the old man he continued.

    ¡°Minister, the negotiations took the turn that we expected. The Union of the States of Vereil have signed the sue for peace. With this the war is officially over and the city state of Dar¨® Varamir will be a new vassal state under the rule of the valuan empire. We expect revolts within the year and our estimated costs for peacekeeping are calculated around 30.000 gold coins. More if we really have revolts.¡±

    The old man nodded attentively. ¡°Make sure that the assassins of the temple are all deployed towards Dar¨® Varamir. The blood of the Valur¨¦n could exist there after all. And¡­ open diplomatic ways to the other members of the Union. If they are sheltering Valur¨¦n this could be the perfect time to negotiate. After all they just had to pay for a war and now they have to buy us off as well. How high were the spoils of war?¡±

    Clifford nodded, while he wrote down the instructions on a piece of parchment. ¡°Our diplomats wanted seven million gold coins first. Though the high sum was putting serious strains on the negotiations, so they gave them the choice of giving away Dar¨® Varamir and the spoils of war were negotiated at almost two million gold coins. The Union of Vereil would have never been able to cough up seven million in the first place. A lot of people view this final result as a triumph.¡±

    Clifford eyed the old man wistfully. ¡°The rumors we have sown that an heir to the Valur¨¦n bloodline is hidden away up north is gaining more and more ground within the populace as well. Minister¡­ do you really want t-¡±

    Jarya Zhulan barked at him with a rasping voice. ¡°Yes. I¡¯m sure. Bring me the bottle. And get rid of it afterwards. Remain focused towards our goal.¡±

    Clifford opened a small coffer that had been stored away high up in a shelf. A small vial with sallow green liquid lied in it. He handed it to the minister carefully and helped him swallow the content. Jarya smiled before he cheered Clifford up.

    ¡°Don¡¯t be sad, my friend. Follow the plan. My life isn¡¯t important anymore, really. My death however¡­¡± The old man coughed for a brief moment before dropping back down into his bed. He continued with brittle voice. ¡°...my death will bring the empire to its knees.¡±

    Then the old man grabbed his chest in a series of spasms. Clifford watched the death of his mentor silently. He showed a worried face, until he was certain that Jarya Zhulan had passed to the other side. Immediately afterwards his expression changed to a indifferent and very cold one.

    He stepped over to the window, grabbing a stone that usually served as paperweight and crushed the vial with hundreds of rhythmic beats until only glass dust remained. Then he opened the window briefly and blew the remains into the wind. Evidence eliminated.

    A deep feeling of satisfaction filled him as he fixed his attire in a dusty old mirror that was hanging from the wall. After he made sure that his clothes were spotless and he had recovered from the heavy run earlier he began with his next task. He had to report the death to the emperor.

    This moment would decide everything. If the ruler perceived him as weak or incompetent, then everything would be for naught and he would have to start over again.

    The nightly chill in the air was calming his nervosity a bit as he walked across the palace gardens. It picked up a bit again as he reached the imperial guards at the palace, though his face only showed grief and regret.

    ¡°Please bring me to the emperor. I come with important news.¡± Clifford spoke glumly.

    The guards did not bother to move. ¡°The emperor is resting. It can wait.¡±

    Clifford sighed internally and tried his best to showcase anger and sadness as the same time. Rage and anger had always been the emotions he had the biggest difficulty with. He just did not feel that fire naturally. ¡°It cannot wait! The emperor is to be informed immediately. The minister is dead.¡±

    The second guard shook its head. ¡°Your funeral. The emperor will not be amused to have been woken and the minister will still be dead tomorrow morning.¡± But when he saw Clifford''s persistent gaze he shrugged. ¡°Alright, follow me.¡±

    The imperial soldier lead him through a narrow hallway into the palace and towards the audience hall. On their way the broad man sent a half dozen servants to the royal chambers and they continued their walk. The rooms of the emperor and his family were strictly off limits and only a few chosen guards and servants were given access.

    The palace was impressive. Wide open rooms that towered a few meters high, adorned with columns, wall paintings of triumph and defeat of the preceding emperors and overwhelming riches. Cliffords own little home was by far not as magnificent, even though he did his best to imitate exceeding wealth.

    Where the imperial family decorated with gold, Clifford had used dyed steel. Where murals were murals of famous artist embellished the walls, stylish wall hangings could be found at the home of the advisor. They faked a rich family history. One that he had thought of entirely on his own.

    But it had been enough to impress the niece of the great Jaryan Zhulan at a early age and to ask her hand in marriage. A engagement he had planned to enter when he first started working under the previous advisor for the ministry.This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.

    The imperial guard opened a heavy steel door with a artistical coat of arms made of jade. The symbol of the Thersin family. The imperial dynasty had style, that much no one could possibly argue with. The soldier palpated him thoroughly for possible hidden weapons, just to make sure the ministry official wasn¡¯t armed.

    Clifford stepped out of the wall lit palace into a rather dark room, that offered audiences with the most powerful man in the world. The room itself was impressive and fear inducing. Columns made from dark duraksteel that had been adorned with skillfully crafted patterns led up to a low hanging ceiling, that only seemed to grow towards the sky as it got closer towards the throne room up ahead. Brightly shining magic crystals gave said room the look of daylight while the darker corridor of the audience hall was sparsely lighted with the light blue magic crystals.

    This was done intentionally. It gave petitioners, diplomats and soldiers that the emperor received a immediate feeling of respect towards the crown.

    The area between the columns led in a broad passageway towards the throne. Walls, ceiling and the flooring outside of this passageway was made of cold, rough slate, that only in the immediate surrounding of the throne room started to be replaced by polished sandstone tiles. The golden stone gave the area something devine. Something sublime. And yet it was stylisch. The passageway in the middle of the corridor was made with wooden panels that had been overdrawn with soft leather.

    These very expensive coatings, that were certainly more valuable that any comfortable chair Clifford owned at his home, also served a psychological purpose. Visitors were forced to take their shoes off, walk over the cold, rough slate floor over to the soft leather and they had to kneel in front of the emperor. It was enjoyable to kneel here, soft and nice as the leather was. A effect that was well-thought-out. It showed symbolically, that it was more comfortable and easy to kneel and be within the empire, with all the riches and advantages it gave, rather than walking on rough stone that felt uncomfortable.

    These things were gadgetry, that hoped to inspire loyalty. Clifford appreciated this room. It was simple, yet effective. He walked up to the end of the leathery flooring and left a bit of room to not appear respectless as he knelt down. The imperial guard that had followed him before, left the room. Apparently it was not necessary for them to keep him under surveillance?

    A few minutes later he realised why this was the case. Guards marched into the room, heavily armed with spear, shield and a shortsword that draped their hips. The golden plate armor with the imperial sigil had an intimidating effect. The Thersin snake, that held a broken sword in its maw, as its body snaked around the splintered blade.

    The guards formed a solid line right before the staircase that led up to the throne and dozens of soldiers stepped between the columns in the audience hall. Clifford ignored them all. He was waiting patiently for the only man that mattered. The emperor however, was making him wait for another thirty minutes before he arrived.

    The emperor was clad in golden robes with a simple, stylish silver crown and he was carried into the room on a enormously big shield. He stood proud and tall above the old relict, that was said to be owned by a legendary giant of a man. Zardoz, the Titan of Er¨¢d S?l.

    The emperor itself was a slim man in his fifties with bored and tired expression. Which was mainly Cliffords fault. It was concerning to him and he worried quite a bit now. Apparently the room¡¯s aura also influenced him subconsciously. As the emperor stepped off the gigantic shield towards the throne and redirected his attention towards him, Clifford pushed his fists into the soft leather in front of him and bowed deeply.

    As the emperor sat down he began to report immediately. He had heard from many sources that Dalton Thersin was not a patient man. ¡°My emperor! The minister is dead!¡±

    The ruler slightly raised his eyebrow. ¡°Jarya is dead?¡±

    Clifford returned to his kneeling position with a face full of grief. ¡°Yes, my emperor.¡±

    The ruler rejected into his throne and brought his index finger towards his upper lip. He seemed more thoughtful rather than he felt sorry for the old minister. Apparently the death of Jarya Zhulan did not have the effect they had hoped for. He scaled back on his grief a bit and replaced that with a bit of worry.

    ¡°Why did you ask for this urgent audience? Is there a reason to interrupt my prayers and meditation?¡± The voice of the emperor was less than amused.

    ¡°My emperor. The death of Jarya Zhulan was very¡­¡± Clifford used his most worried expression here. ¡°...very unusual. He was old, yes. But nowhere near sudden death! It is a even more disturbing occurrence with the current reports  that we received in recent days. I wan-¡±

    The emperor issued him to be silent with a hand gesture. Apparently he had no patience to hear ¡°important¡± reports. ¡°Laif Thar! Go and find me Mirtuk Gyajur. The faster he finds himself sworn in as minister, the better.¡±

    A broadly build imperial guard immediately left its post and ran out of the audience hall with quick paces. The plate armor weighted easily more than thirty kilos, yet the big soldier ran faster than Clifford could have ever managed.

    He had to smile internally. Who would have thought that the emperor would chose the firstborn of the Gyajur family to resume the work of the deceased minister? Probably some other budgetary advisor. At least this was going according to plans.

    Clifford took the following silence as a invitation to speak again. ¡°My emperor, excuse my insolence¡­ but regarding the remains of the deceased mini-¡±

    The emperor spoke bored. ¡°Sure, go ahead and take the liberty to bury the man in the imperial graveyard. But make it a quick and fast ceremony. I do not want possible enemies to know that one of our highest offices has taken a¡­ setback.¡±

    Clifford bit his lower lip. No, no, no. This was not good. He needed the body later! He could accuse someone of murder and conspiracy in the near future if he ever needed a trump card. So he did something that only a few men in his position had ever done.

    ¡°No.¡± He refused the emperor. Said no to the most powerful man in the world. The word reverberated throughout the hall and all the imperial guards suddenly looked at him curiously. The emperor seemed very surprised.

    Clifford brought out a tear with effort, before he continued with slightly mad voice.

    ¡°My mentor, under which I had served the empire for over twenty years has now died suddenly and unexpectedly. If there is even the slightest possibility, that this was an unnatural death... ¡° Clifford breathed heavily. ¡°Then I owe it to him.¡±

    Then he pretended to suddenly realise who he was speaking to and threw himself into the leathery floor again.

    ¡°My emperor! My life is your, my wealth is yours, my soul belongs to you!¡± Clifford clawed his hands into the soft underground. ¡°Please! Grant me my wish to make sure his death was natural. For the safety of the empire!¡±

    When Clifford returned to his sitting position, the emperor stared into his eyes gently. And the advisor returned the stare, hoping, praying that his emotions had been interpreted correctly. His loyalty towards his dead mentor should have been a good sign for unconditional loyalty that every ruler craved, while his refusal hopefully added a bunch of respect.

    The emperor eyed him for what felt like entire minutes. Then the door to the audience hall was opened once again and another visitor hurried forward to kneel down next to Clifford.

    Finally the gaze broke, as the emperor eyed the new arrival. The emperor did not waste any more time. ¡°So be it. Do as you wish.¡± He continued to speak more formally towards the man next to Clifford. ¡°Mirtuk of house Gyajur. Hereby I, the emperor of Valuan, declare you Minister of Internal Affairs. Next to you, you will find your future advisor. He had been the same to the former, deceased minister Zhulan.¡±

    ¡°Yes! My emperor!¡± The man bowed deeply, yet the emperor already rose from his throne. Immediately his personal guard was next to him and presented the gigantic shield again for transportation.

    Dalton Thersin spoke one last time as he was carried out. ¡°I expect a report by breakfast.¡±

    ¡°Yes, emperor¡± Clifford and Mirtuk spoke simultaneously.

    The imperial guards left the hall before and after the emperor and Mirtuk sat down, seemingly overwhelmed and Clifford turned towards him. ¡°I¡¯m afraid it''s going to be a long night, minister.¡±

    The newly appointed official frowned. ¡°The most important things? Summarized?¡±

    Clifford nodded and had to hold back a demonic grin, that he hid behind his serious gaze. ¡°Pirates to the western isles that raid up and down the coastline. Bandits in the eastern mountainside and woodlands. Three reports of children born to the Valur¨¦n bloodline. They have already been dealt with, though. Sacrifices to the gods. The parents are under surveillance. A trading guild that reportedly had engaged in war tax evasion. And the most dire news off all... ¡° Clifford waited for a second to give his message more meaning.

    ¡°... our northern ally Zenshin is harbouring a young Valur¨¦n, that now has reached his thirteenth life cycle.¡±

    Panic spread on the newly appointed minister, and Clifford enjoyed every moment of it.

 Chapter 18

    Ollowyn woke up early as he usually did. The sun was already announcing her arrival on the horizon, while the young swordsman got up. He stepped out of the little shed that he had made camp in and observed his surroundings. The first sunlight was starting to fall on the training space between the buildings of the Iordai Clan and one could observe the glistening dew on the grass in the gardens around it.

    Ollowyn stepped barefoot into the cool grass and drew his blade. He loved the feeling of his feet gliding through the wet grass and let his sword Silverswallow swing slowly, while he practiced various attack and defense positions in slow motion.

    He moved faster and faster and slowly his routine practice transcended into practicing the 128 moonflower technique.

    So far he had not been able to even fulfill even a single strike. It was possible to use Kordu¨ª and Zenzen after each other in quick succession, though the flow felt off and Ollowyn knew that he was far too slow in his execution.

    But it was getting better day by day, although slowly and he could barely wait to master this technique as well.

    As the doors to the largest building opened up approximately one hour into his practice, Ollowyn ended his training. He was too late already, since the great master had ordered him to show up at first daylight.

    Ollowyn hurried over to the sanctum and made sure to wipe his sweat off his face before entering.

    Luckily the old man seemed to be submerged in meditation. Silently Ollowyn crept into the room and set down with his legs crossed. He immediately closed his eyes and began meditating, with a little luck he wouldn¡¯t be found ou-

    ¡°Did you oversleep?¡± The old master said.

    Ollowyn made sure to respond slowly, as if he was in concentration. ¡°No, master. I have been here for some time, meditating.¡±

    He ignored the sandal that hit him hard in the shoulder and continued his pretend-meditation.

    ¡°However that may be.¡± The old man grumbled. ¡°Lord Engur¨¤l of House Irt¨® has sent us a letter. He asked me to bring my successor to Rukbrick and that we both swear fealty to Zenshin.¡±

    Ollowyn opened his eyes and eyed the great master, that was apparently not in the mood for joking around this time. It seemed to be really important.

    ¡°Master¡­ do you not want to go?¡± Ollowyn did not understand what the great Ritto Iordai could possibly be afraid off. He was the strongest warrior that he had ever seen and with all the stories he had heard from others so far, there were very few that could be equal to him.

    ¡°No. In the past I have postponed this visit again and again by saying that I would only follow a true king of Zenshin. But Lord Engur¨¤l has made it pretty clear to me that he would declare to be king soon enough. Apparently he has strengthened his position with the other nobles sufficiently.¡±

    Ollowyn understood very little of politics. It was unimaginable to him, how one could submit to someone that was weaker than oneself. He thought about it for a bit before he spoke. ¡°If we don¡¯t like him, we don¡¯t have to swear anything to him? We could just go home? He could not stop you, master.¡±

    The old man eyed him with tired eyes before he nodded. ¡°We will see. Everything depends on how warm they welcome you as my successor and as a Valur¨¦n. It could very well be, that we make a lot more enemies than we already have.¡±

    Ollowyn nodded. ¡°Okay. What will we do today?¡± The great master had taught him breathing techniques in the last few days and Ollowyn was looking forward to learn something that was not completely boring.

    ¡°Nothing for today. At least no real training. You are going to be my successor, Ollowyn. What do you think does that mean?¡± The old man observed him patiently.

    Ollowyn thought about it. ¡°We train students so that they fight for us? I would lead the clan and train as many as I can to spread the Iordai Clan and our fighting practices into all corners of the world!¡±

    Iordai shook his head. ¡°You don¡¯t understand, Ollowyn. It was never about something like that for me. When i retreated into this empty valley, a few farmers in search of a better home have followed me. I was able to defend them whenever something dangerous came, be it bandits or wolves. In exchange they fed me and showed me hospitality. I only ever searched for a quiet place to hone my sword skills.¡±

    Ollowyn listened the story quietly. It was really interesting to learn of things that happened in the past, way before he had grown up in his first pack.

    ¡°The students came after a while. Thasun was one of the first. He had always been a wild kid. Nearly as much as you.¡± The old man laughed quietly. ¡°Although... you are the smarter one and you are also not causing me much trouble. I have taken in all the students that came in search for training. Of course I have also thrown out some, that did not do as I ordered them to. Some left after a few years, in search for work. Most of then ended up in Zenshin, serving one lord or another. I have contact to them from time to time still. But, Ollowyn, this is not what you should focus for the future. For that I have Marun and Karthan. Even without Thasun our Clan will exist long after I am gone.¡± The old man seemed a little proud and sad at the same time.

    Ollowyn interrupted him. ¡°But if not that, what then? I am only good at fighting? I can¡¯t do anything else?¡±

    The boy looked concerned and Ritto Iordai knew this feeling all too well. He was a wild beast. Not unlike Thasun. Not unlike himself. Sighing he tried to calm him down.

    ¡°Ollowyn, I am still alive. You won¡¯t have to start taking over my position any time soon. First you will need to learn.¡±

    Ollowyn immediately looked less concerned. ¡°Learn?¡±

    ¡°The people in this valley are relying on the Iordai Clan. We defend them and that is the most important thing. We defend women and children, the old and the weak. That is our duty. Though most of the time it¡¯s not war or savage thugs that are a threat to our people. Almost always it is the winter.¡±Love what you''re reading? Discover and support the author on the platform they originally published on.

    Ollowyn nodded. It was a concept he was very familiar with. It did not happen rarely that a wolf pack felt hunger. And the winters were often harsh and cold. ¡°I know. There was a winter once where our pack had nearly starved.¡±

    Iordai blinked. Of course. For a moment he had forgotten how the boy had grown up. Apparently it was not necessary to make this point very clear. The point was already brought home. Nailed tight by years of survival.

    ¡°You understand this danger much better than most people in this valley. We have had a rather mild winter and the refugees that we took in from Zenshin, have been fed through with food deliveries that Zenshin brought us. But they won''t do that forever. This duty now belongs to us.¡±

    Ollowyn frowned. ¡°We have to find a way to feed everyone? How do we do that? There are nearly twice as much people here now.¡±

    Ritto Iordai nodded. ¡°Exactly. So far the people in the Valley of Ending have lived of their livestock and their grown vegetables. The valley is very fertile, but only very little of the land is arable. The forest is growing everywhere, as I¡¯m sure you already know. We can¡¯t grow wheat without creating new arable land first.¡±

    The boy was unhappy. ¡°Can¡¯t we just hunt? There is a lot of game in the forests. I hunt only small animals, but I have seen a lot of big ones too.¡±

    Ritto Iordai shook his head. ¡°Hunting will not be reliable enough. Meat doesn¡¯t keep forever, and we can¡¯t safely rely on being successful all the time. It will be a safeguard if the winter is too harsh. But for now, we should focus on building up more land and stockpiling grain. We can store that much longer than meat, without risk of spoiling.¡±

    ¡°But wont it take way too long to create that much land? How can we feed everyone, if all the plants die in the winter?¡± Ollowyn tilted his head slightly. ¡°How long does it take for wheat to grow anyway?¡±

    Iordai smiled. The boy wasn¡¯t dense. But he could not know what Iordai had planned. The boy did not know how the world really worked yet. ¡°I¡¯m not sure, how long it takes for wheat to grow. I have never really had to think about such things in the past. But even if we can¡¯t grow anything this year, we can still feed everyone. And the main reason for that is simply¡­ trade.¡±

    ¡°Trade?¡± Ollowyn raised a brow. He did not like traders. Thasun had saved him once from one that tried to catch and deliver him to Valuan. Or kill him.

    ¡°We create new land by deforestation. The wood that we gain from this, we can sell. It will bring in enough gold to buy the necessary grain if we have to. It will easily be enough and we will have enough left over to build new houses and buildings.

    Ollowyn thought about it. ¡°I have cut down a tree once. Can I help?¡±

    The old man smiled, before he took out an axe. It was forged out of duraksteel. ¡°Of course. Who do you think has to cut down all those trees?¡±

    As Ollowyn grabbed the wooden handle, the old master did not let go.

    ¡°But first I will show you a new technique. It is something that Karthan has developed.¡± The old man had a strangely proud expression on his face as he said that. It was clear how proud it made him if a student of his thought of something new. ¡°It is not the best technique, because it would very often damage your sword too much, though for an axe or a blunt weapon like a mace it would be a very useful technique.¡±

    Ollowyn received the axe and followed his master outside. There was immediately excited whispering as the great Ritto Iordai stepped outside for the first time in many years and was seen by the nearby students. Ollowyn grinned towards a dumbfounded Mephian and waved him with his new axe.

    Then the old master jumped up the tall wall of the estate with a single leap. Ollowyn swallowed. It was not as easy as before to climb up there. The wall had been smoothed down properly and wasfour meters tall now. He flexed his muscles and dashed forward with a quick Kordu¨ª, jumped and tried to push himself higher on the slippery wall with his left foot. He barely managed to hook his new axe over the edge and pulled himself up with a rather arduous pull up.

    He felt great respect for his old master, that was able to make such a jump with such ease. He was much smaller than Ollowyn and yet it seemed like a casual thing for him. Then he followed Iordai as he dropped to the street on the other side. They walked into the nearby woods casually.

    ¡°What is this new technique?¡± Ollowyn asked impatiently. ¡°How does it work?¡±

    The old man stopped at a small tree and grabbed a solid stick from the forest floor. ¡°Pay close attention, I will explain later.¡±

    Ritto Iordai¡¯s body tensed up. Ollowyn could spot the muscles flex as he felt power radiate from his right body half. No, only from his right arm? It was a entirely different technique from the usual Iordai style. Those usually were techniques that relied on speed and skill.

    This technique seemed¡­ brutal. The aura of the old man that usually felt overwhelming, now felt like a giant beast. Incalculable, destructible. Ollowyn stepped back subconsciously. It felt like the old man could snap at him any second now.

    Then the old man slammed the wooden stick into the tree trunk. The stick splintered as it impacted solid wood, but the tree did not fare much better. The wood was dented in heavily and the bark was largely gone. It did not look as impressive as Ollowyn had expected. The old master could have also hit the tree ten times in rapid succession to reach the same effect.

    He frowned. ¡°Is that all?¡±

    The old master growled at him slightly and Ollowyn stepped back another step. ¡°The possibility to have overwhelming power in a fight can be very often a deciding factor. Especially when you are not fighting with a mace or an axe instead of a katana or sword. With this technique you could break a man¡¯s arm right through the shield.

    Ollowyn nodded. ¡°I¡¯m sorry, master. How does this technique work? Does it have a name?¡±

    Ritto Iordai nodded and reached for Ollowyn¡¯s axe. ¡°It is called Arr¨¢gata.¡±

    Ollowyn memorized the name and gave the old man his axe. He would ask Karthan about it later, when he visited the next time. Come to think of it, there was always good food when he visited Alissa and him. Another reason to do that soon.

    ¡°When we use Zenzen, we use our legs to increase the speed of our strike and to let go of said power, thus transferring it. Speed is the main contributor to this technique. Here you use the weight and power of your entire body. You gather as much strength as you can and release it in an instant. It is not as easy as it sounds, but you will have enough practice time soon.

    Ollowny observed the next strike of his master as he rammed the axe right through the whole tree trunk and watched as it toppled over. It was not the largest tree, yet to cut it down with a single strike was very impressive still. Then Iordai handed him back his duraksteel axe.

    ¡°As you can see, the axe isn''t damaged. A common steel axe would surely have dulled a fair bit after this. Just pay close attention to the stalk. If you feel that it is about to break at some point, be careful. You could send the axehead flying otherwise. If it loosens up too much, don''t use this technique and let someone repair the axe first.¡±

    Ritto Iordai turned away from the cut-down tree and walked back towards the street. ¡°Come, Ollowyn. We go for a little walk. It feels good to be outside once in a while.¡±

    Ollowyn did as he was told and followed his master. But before they even reached the first house of the village, the old man stopped. He gave Ollowyn a letter and named who he should take it to and made his way back to the clan estate.

    Ollowyn eyed the old man thoughtfully for some time. For some reason he did not like to be outside, or to be seen. What was the reason for this? He stood there, thinking about it for a few minutes. Then he continued onwards to the village. With a bit of luck he could grab some breakfast at Alissa¡¯s and Karthan¡¯s house.

 Chapter 19

    Ollowyn knocked at the door to the two story house that was master Karthan¡¯s.

    Immediately the voice of the bald swordsman called out. ¡°Darling, can you open the door?.. Thank you.¡±

    The heavy wooden door opened rather slowly and a small three year old girl showed up.

    ¡°Ollo!¡± The little one called out excitedly as she ran towards Ollowyn to hug him.

    Ollowyn made sure to keep the axe as far away as possible and knelt down. He let her hug him at the neck and picked her up with his right arm.

    ¡°Hei, Sarafina? Slept well?¡± He asked cheerfully.

    ¡°Mmh!¡± The tiny girl replied before Ollowyn entered with her.

    Karthan sat at the dinner table, his bald head and grey-brown beard looking like always, while Alissa stood in the kitchen, opening some eggs into a bowl. Her stomach had grown again and she was humming cheerfully. When she noticed him, she greeted him with the expected question. ¡°Did you eat anything yet, Ollowyn? Do you want some scrambled eggs?¡±

    ¡°No I haven¡¯t eaten yet. That would be great, thanks.¡± Ollowyn sat down with Sarafina at the table and helped her to drape a small piece of bread with thin slices of cheese.

    Karthan immediately noticed the black duraksteel axe. ¡°Oh, did Iordai send you to knock down trees?¡±

    ¡°Twees!¡± The little one exclaimed happily. before she chewed into her bread.

    Ollowyn nodded. ¡°Yeah, I am supposed to help Ronkan today.¡±

    ¡°As far as I know they are still busy building two more houses. They shouldn''t be finished before next week though. Oh, thank you darling.¡± Karthan Cr¡¯Axsun smiled like a madman, as Alissa brought him a plate of scrambled eggs. Clearly heavily in love.

    Ollowyn was unable to hide a grin himself. It always felt good to visit Karthan and Alissa, here he was always warmly welcomed and it felt like his first pack, where he had grown up. Alissa presented him with a plate as well. It was spiced up with salt and pepper and a few seared bacon cubes. Pepper was usually very rare in the Valley of Ending, though a few of the refugees had brought spices from their homeland in southern Valuan.

    ¡°Thank you. Sarafina, you want some too?¡± Ollowyn took a small spoon and raised a bit of the tasty treat in front of Sarafina¡¯s face.

    ¡°Ja.¡± She said before quickly taking the spoon out of his hand. ¡°We play today, Ollo?¡± She wanted to know.

    ¡°Ollowyn has to work today, he can¡¯t play with you.¡± Karthan said with a definite and strict tone. ¡°And you have to help your mother, Sara.¡±

    ¡°Okay..¡± The girl said before taking another spoon full of food, standing up and running towards her mother to ask her if she can make Ollowyn stay.

    ¡°She is a smart girl. Immediately goes and asks my wife the same thing she already asked me, whenever I don¡¯t pay attention.¡± Karthan sighed.

    Ollowyn stayed for some time longer talking to the Cr¡¯Axsun family before he headed out to start his task. The village was already very busy. With nearly seven hundred inhabitants and around eighty houses the village was not small at all, yet wherever Ollowyn went, everybody knew him.

    For Ollowyn all the people in this village belonged to his pack. He visited here and there and spend a great deal of his freetime to get to know the families and what they did for a living.

    The lionshare of them were farmers. Around 550 people tended to the herds of sheep, held chickens and a cow or two or grew vegetables and hay grass for the winter. One larger family had specialized with a small lake, where they grew fish and a few smaller families were in the business of cutting and processing wood. They made furniture and boards for buildings or fences, sold firewood for the winter, or simply cut down trees whenever someone requested it.

    There was even a lonely blacksmith, that lived in a house a fair distance outside of the village. He crafted metal tools for the village and a weapon here and there for the Iordai Clan. Though they prefered to import weapons from Zenshin, mainly because the smith was unable to cope with the workload alone.

    Many of the farming families had alternative business that they mainly practiced in the winter and the more quiet times. They smoked fish and meat, made cheese or mud of lime that was used to build walls.

    The life in the Valley of Ending was peaceful, the valley fertile and rich. The village had grown significantly, however, ever since the refugees had been taken in from Zenshin over the last to years. Their arrival had not been without friction.

    The lack of free land and the resulting lack of living space had lead to the villagers giving up a few of their farming fields, where the new arrivals had settled down.

    The Iordai Clan had stepped in and had to do quite a bit of mediation for that, but after their arrival the refugees had immediately helped the inhabitants with their workload, and the teamwork had brought them closer together. It had even gone so far, that the citizens had helped the new arrivals with building their houses.

    Ollowyn arrived after a short walk at the end of the original village and immediately new houses with bright, fresh wood replaced the sunburnt wood of the decade old houses. The refugees were mostly not at home though. Only here and there Ollowyn could spot someone sit in front of their house working on something, but the lionshare was currently at the end of the village. It was easy to hear them from afar, working the wood and the constant chatter of many people. With the 600 refugees that had arrived so far, the Valles of Ending housed 1300 people now. Members of the Iordai Clan not calculated in. The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

    Luckily it seemed like he would not have to go that far. Ronkan was standing in front of his house, tending to a injured man. Apparently he had dislocated his shoulder. When Ollowyn walked closer Ronkan looked up.

    ¡°Ahh, Ollowyn. Come! Help me quickly. Can you keep his upper body upright? Then it is easier for me.¡±

    Ollowyn did as he was told and a little later Ronkan sent the pain stricken man with a provisorical shoulder tie back home to cool his injury.

    ¡°What happened?¡± Ollowyn asked worried.

    ¡°He fell from the roof, luckily he didn¡¯t injure himself too much. Did Iordai send you?¡± Ronkan washed his face in a water barrel next to the house entry while Ollowyn answered.

    ¡°Yes. He gave me a letter for you.¡± He gave Ronkan the letter, curious what was written in it.

    He read the letter with a raised brow, before he eyed Ollowyn and continued. He seemed thoughtful, when he finished.

    ¡°Apparently Iordai doesn¡¯t just send you for today. He has quite the confidence in you.¡± With this exclamation he put the letter in his pants and told Ollowyn to follow. ¡°Did you ever cut down a tree before, Ollowyn?¡±

    ¡°Yeah. I hit a tree with wooden swords until it fell over.¡± Ollowyn was a bit embarrassed, since that was hardly a comparison to actual woodwork. It was only raw violence.

    Ronkan laughed briefly. ¡°Haha, that fits. It''s not much different than that. But you will be better off with an axe, trust me. Iordai wrote me that you will help us knock down all the trees on the land we need for the wheat fields. But that is no easy feat. He really has confidence in you when he says that you will do all the work by yourself. You are three weeks ahead of schedule. We will only start deforestation once we finish the houses and the waterway for the future fields. But you can go ahead of us I guess. Though we will catch up sooner or later that¡¯s for sure.¡±

    Ollowyn nodded. The refugees mainly consisted of families, thus they were mostly children, but there were a total of 150 men that did the heavy lifting after all. Even with a large go ahead he would hardly be able to know down everything before they arrived.

    Ronkan continued. ¡°For a good harvest next year we will plant winter wheat. But for the harvest to be sufficient for the whole valley we will need quite a bit of land. I will show you just how much. But it¡¯s gonna be a loooot of trees. That much is certain.¡±

    They both crossed a small field with a herd of sheeps and greeted the shepherd that was fixing a hole in the wooden fence, before they arrived at the edge of the woods. Ronkan followed it to the left until the terrain started to rise up and soon started to become rocky and later mountainous.

    ¡°Come here, Ollowyn. See this?¡± He shoved the dirt aside to reveal the rich earth underneath. ¡°The land here is good, but a few feet ahead it''s going to be too rocky.¡± He repeated the process to show the difference, before he continued.

    ¡°We don''t need this rocky land. Wheat grows here too slowly and sparsely. It would draw out the harvest too long and then there would be no time to sow summer wheat before we have to sow the winter wheat in autumn.¡± Ronkan drew a knife and scratched a large ¡°X¡± in the tree before he started going back along the edge of the forest.

    Ollowyn followed along, but one important question lingered on his mind. ¡°What is winter wheat? Don¡¯t the plants die off when it gets cold?¡±

    Ronkan laughed. ¡°No, no. Winter wheat is just normal wheat, like summer wheat. The plants start growing in autumn before the first snowfall covers them up. That protects them from the cold. They stop growing in winter and resume when it gets warmer in the spring. Then we harvest them.¡±

    Ollowyn was fascinated. He would have never had the idea to plant something right before winter. He still thought it was absurd and most likely would only believe it once he saw it. ¡°I want to see that. Can you show me then?¡±

    Ronkan nodded. ¡°Sure. Iordai sent you to teach you something, But first the woodcutting.¡±

    The silver haired boy nodded and followed him further down the edge of the forest. They crossed half the valley before Ronkan cut another ¡°X¡± into a tree.

    ¡°That is 600 meters, Ollowyn. From the first tree with the ¡°X¡± up until here. Now we go another 600 meters further in. That''s the amount of land we need to clear.¡± He spoke with a rather worried voice. Apparently he was not sure that they would make it in time.

    Ollowyn swallowed hard. He could be right. That was a lot of trees that he was walking past. Surely more than a thousand. And he had only ever counted to thousand before. But the duraksteel axe in his hand gave him a better feeling. ¡°It¡¯s going to be fine. You have me.¡± He said, intentionally confident and slung the axe over his shoulder lazily.

    Ronkan grinned. ¡°We will see. You will help us out a lot that¡¯s for sure. I don¡¯t want to be too deep in debt with Iordai, we live on his land after all.¡±

    His land. Ollowyn was realizing it more and more, but this land would one day be¡­ his. He was not only working to help out the refugees. He worked for himself as well. Motivated he followed Ronkan until he scratched another ¡°X¡± into a tree.

    ¡°And from here onwards back to the edge of the valley. I¡¯m not sure how many trees there are, but I would estimate around 8.000. Maybe less. Luckily we have hardly any bushes, since we used that up as firewood when we arrived.¡± Ronkan seemed worried. ¡°Pay attention that the trees only fall in the direction you want them to fall. Preferably not into other trees. It''s dangerous if you tangle them up. Oh, and also when the trees fall, call out loud ¡°Tree falling!¡± or something like this. Just in case someone is near you.¡±

    Ollowyn nodded. Eight times a thousand trees. No wonder that Ronkan though it was impossible to do. As Ollowyn stepped closer to the tree with his axe in hand, Ronkan held him back hastily.

    ¡°Wait, wait. If you start here, in the middle of the forest, we can¡¯t bring the trees away easily. You have to start at the edge of the forest, so that there is nothing in the way.¡±

    Embarrassed Ollowyn stared at his axe, he hadn¡¯t thought of that. But he could barely wait to finally start.

    ¡°Come, we go back, you know how far we have to cut down the trees now. I will tell my wife that she prepares you some food, my daughter can deliver it to you later.¡± Ronkan eyed Ollowyn¡¯s long, silver hair. ¡°Can I ask you something? A lot of us have noticed this before¡­ but, your hair¡­ are you-¡±

    Ollowyn interrupted him happily. ¡°Yes. I¡¯m a Valur¨¦n. If you mean that?¡±

    Ronkan swallowed. ¡°I see. So your name is...real? Are you a wolf demon? There are many stories and Ollowyn means wolf demon in our language.¡±

    The silver haired boy shook his head. ¡°I was raised by wolves, but I am no demon. Valur¨¦n are no demons. That was made up by your emperor in Valuan.¡± It was sad to think that a lot of the refugees apparently were frightened of the possibility. When he thought back, it made sense now that the kids had always kept their distance towards Ollowyn at first.

    Ronkan nodded. ¡°Thank you for your honesty. I will keep this to myself and I will try to end the horror stories from the past wherever possible.¡± He grabbed Ollowyn¡¯s shoulder. ¡°Thank you for helping out, like so often before.¡±

    Ollowyn grinned and grabbed his axe more tightly. He could barely wait to knock down a few trees. He felt energized.

 Chapter 20

    Ollowyn was dead tired. After a solid hour of experimenting, he had finally realised how to use Arr¨¢gata. Though that did not make it much easier. Every time he used the technique, it felt like he had swung his axe against the tree a hundred times.

    The silver haired Valur¨¦n had always had a lot of stamina and he was absolutely sure, that he could hit those trees repeatedly until midnight without stopping much. But even with his high stamina it was just impossible to use Arr¨¢gata again and again without depleting his energy resources completely. Ten strikes felt like a thousand.

    As he raised his axe for the nineteenth strike, he noticed that he would not be able to use it again. The massive oak tree that stood before him, was the thickest tree he had found in the near vicinity and he had barely made a dent. Exhausted he let his axe fly into the wound one last time, where it ripped out a piece of wood and remained stuck.

    Ollowyn let himself fall backwards into the hip-high grass. Next time he would make twenty! He stretched his limb away from his body and eyed the passing clouds. It was peaceful here. For a small moment he nodded off.

    Then a voice ripped him from his slumber. ¡°Hello? Ollowyn? My father sends me, I have to bring you-... Oh. There you are.¡±

    Ronka¡¯s daughter stood a few meters away with a large wicker basket. Ollowyn rose happily. Food. Now that he thought about it, he was pretty damn hungry. ¡°Are you bringing me lunch?¡±

    The girl, that Ollowyn estimated to be seventeen years old, was smaller than he was. Ollowyn¡¯s heartbeat grew faster. But before he could even ask himself why that was, the girl had already handed him the basket and bowed briefly. ¡°Sorry, I gotta hurry home. Helping my mother. You can bring by what''s leftover later.¡±

    Ollowyn blinked in a confused manner, but before he could say ¡°Thank you¡±, the girl was already too far away. Too bad. He would have liked to speak to her, but for some reason he had frozen up. That usually did not happen to him. Shrugging, he opened the wicker basket and stared at a paradise. A large buffet of hard boiled eggs, dried meat and cheese. Apples, carrots and plenty of freshly baked bread. It was enough to fill his stomach three times over. Ronkan¡¯s family was so nice! He really would have to say his thanks later.

    Happy, Ollowyn lied back into the warm grass and ate as much as possible. Then he rested again, since he was barely even able to move anymore. This time he was more careful and only closed one eye to avoid falling asleep. When he continued an hour later he left a lot better. He began to warm up with a few normal swings. After a while the wound he had cleaved into the tree was large enough to sleep in. About one third of the diameter.

    With his body feeling warm and ready he started to use Arr¨¢gata again. After twenty-eight shattering strikes the large oak started to slowly tilt towards him. He made a quick Koru¨ª sidestep away from the tree and ran a bit further, just to make sure. The tree was truly massive and the wide ranging tree branches made the oak broader than it was high. Ollowyn stretched as the tree crashed to the ground. It felt good. He had won the struggle against this massive tree.

    Though the forest stretched out far and wide behind him. And Ollowyn tried his best to meet the challenge and knock down as many trees as he could before sundown. In the end his efforts were akin to a water drop on a hot stone. It did little to bring down his motivation though. Six trees down. Seven times a thousand and¡­ how many to go? He was unsure what kind of number that even was. He should have paid better attention in Marun¡¯s numbers lesson after all.

    Shrugging Ollowyn grabbed the wicker basket and made himself on the way back with a snack in hand. When he delivered it back to Ronkan¡¯s wife, he held one eye open for the girl to thank her, but she was nowhere to be seen.

    The tiredness in his body was something he had not felt in a long time. His limbs ached and hurt, but it was the good kind of pain. It felt right. Satisfying. The kind of pain that makes one stronger overtime. When Ollowyn reached the clan¡¯s estate he was so tired that jumping over the wall was something he did not even consider. As he knocked on the large wooden gate, Marun opened.

    ¡°Oh, master Torre¨ª. Come in. How is your training progressing.¡± Marun was treating Ollowyn with the respect a true master of the Iordai Clan deserved. Ollowyn was embarrassed about it as usually, but luckily no one was here to hear the conversation.

    ¡°Thank you, pretty well master K¨ªreii. But please don¡¯t be so formal and call me master all the time. I feel weird if you do that.¡± He said with a deep frown on his face. Then his legs gave out and he fell forward.

    Marun caught Ollowyn and flung his left arm around his shoulder. Ollowyn could barely stand like this and the master more or less carried him to his sleeping spot.

    ¡°Don¡¯t overexert yourself with training. You could really hurt yourself, if you lose control over your legs at the wrong time.¡± Marun sounded very concerned. ¡°Should I bring you someth-¡±

    But Ollowyn did not near the rest of it. He had already fallen in a deep slumber and Marun left after covering him with a blanket.

    Ollowyn dreamt vividly. A large beast was chasing him. He felt it, but it never showed itself. He ran and ran, but escaping was impossible. It was drawing closer and closer. Until it finally grabbed him at his ankle.

    The silver haired boy woke up immediately, as something janked him out of shack and threw him through the air a few meters. Ollowyn adjusted his fall as best as he could and landed on all fours. He slithered through the wet, nightly grass a few meters, before coming to a halt. A pitch black shadow sprinted towards him. Assassin? He immediately lifted both his arms to shield his face.

    A knee hit his provisorical defense hard and threw him up into a standing position. His hands felt numb already. The shadow was fast. Too fast. Immediately he was next to him, jumped and a heavy kick went against Ollowyn¡¯s temple.

    The boy could barely block it, but his already numb hand was now completely filled with only one sensation. Pain.

    The attacked did not relent. Again and again he threw attacks against Ollowyn and threw him through the wet grass like a playball. He could hardly defend. Much less run away. If felt impossible to even try. He was constantly at his limit, barely reading his opponents movement. But he realised that his opponent did not intend to kill him.

    After a few minutes of painful beatings the shadow ended the fight brutally. He knocked Ollowyn of his feet with a really hard kick, before a flat handed strike to his chest pressed the air out of his lungs and threw him to the ground, where he rolled over a few times. He was about to pass out as the shadow revealed itself.

    ¡°Don¡¯t forget my breathing techniques, boy. I did not teach you for nothing.¡± The great master spoke coldly. Then he pulled him back to his sleeping spot in the shack on his shirt, where he dropped him. Unauthorized usage: this narrative is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings.

    Ollowyn immediately gave in to his exhaustion and sunk into a deep and strong slumber.

    When he woke up, the sun was already standing high in the sky and his whole body hurt, even more than before. Ollowyn bit his lip as he stood up. The old master had told him multiple times how important the breathing techniques were, but he had not paid enough attention. It was his own fault for provoking this nightly ¡°lesson¡±.

    The old monster was not to be joked with. He eyed his throbbing, painful arms. They already showed a blue-violet hue. Ollowyn was no stranger to pain. He had gotten hurt a lot in his early days. The great master was showing him his affection in his own ways. Ollowyn had ignored a part of his teaching and he had reminded him so that he would never forget. Sighing, Ollowyn started his daily work with aching limbs.

    On his way throughout the village he was eyed with raised eyebrows, but he carried his wounds with pride and was not afraid to greet the people like it was a normal day. He walked at a faster pace though, to make up for lost time.

    As he crossed the pasture with the grazing sheep, he could spot Ronkan already. It seemed like he was inspecting Ollowyn¡¯s work and he was deep in thought.

    Ollowyn greeted him from afar. ¡°Good morning!¡±

    Completely ripped out of his thoughts the man turned to face him. ¡°Ollowyn. Milenia told me that you aren¡¯t around, so I thought to look for you, to make sure-¡± He stopped for a second as Ollowyn stopped in front of him. ¡°Good god. What happened to your face?¡±

    Ollowyn frowned and touched his face. It felt oddly hot. Apparently he had taken a few hits to the head yesterday night after all. ¡°Training.¡± He shrugged. ¡°Nothing special.¡±

    Ronkan looked at him pityingly.. ¡°You train very hard¡­. If I can ever do something for you, let me know.¡± Then he turned towards the six cut down trees. ¡°Did you do all that alone yesterday? Pretty impressive.¡±

    Ollowyn sat down on the massive oak trunk. ¡°Today I will do more.¡± He was truly convinced of that.

    Ronkan nodded. ¡°Really impressive. By the way, I brought you some food again, in case you go hungry.¡± He gestured towards the same wicker basket, that he was given yesterday. ¡°Come to my house tonight, I will give you something against the swelling. Herbal ointment should do wonders against that.¡±

    The silver haired shook his head. ¡°No, thanks. It will heal by itself.¡± Ollowyn knew that the man meant well, he was not really in a mood for talking though. He needed to concentrate.

    A few short lived sentences later he was left alone and was able to use the relatively quiet forest and the surrounding fields for his breathing technique. He made sure to focus on every breath he took, trying to fill every inch of his body with energy while doing so. But this was easier said than done.

    Because even though the old master had explained the exercise in detail and Ollowyn had a approximate understanding on how it worked if done correctly, it was easier said than done. It was a state of mind that was much harder to enter and maintain than simple meditation. A loud bird here, a breaking twig there. There were a lot of things that ripped him out of concentration.

    With time, Ollowyn grew restless and decided to exhaust himself against the forrest before he would continue. Twenty-two Arr¨¢gata strikes later he returned to the thick oak trunk and sat down exhaustedly. His body burned from the strain he had put his limbs under, though it made it much easier to concentrate on simple breathing.

    This time he was able to maintain it a lot longer and when he finally opened his eyes he felt replenished. Bewildered Ollowyn looked at his arms. The swelling had gone back slightly? He glanced at the far too low sun. Apparently he had spent more than an hour just focusing on his breathing. It had felt like a much shorter time.

    Irritated he continued his work. This time he felt strong for a lot longer and he grew tired much less quickly. Tree after tree fell under his reinforced strikes, that now sank into the wood almost half a meter deep. Ollowyn also took care to place them in better spots and he was able to cut down the smaller trees in less than ten strikes. When he was finally exhausted again, he had counted forty-seven Arr¨¢gata strikes. The great master had been right for beating him. This was much better.

    Happy with his progress he left the five cut down trees and returned to his usual spot on the large oak trunk to continue his breathing technique. It was no longer a distant and foreign feeling that he had to chase down. He was simply able to¡­ let himself fall in and be welcome.

    Though this time he was not able to maintain it for long. Something soft and fluffy poked against his shin. The boy opened his eyes slowly and eyed the offender.

    A tiny, white fox sniffed his leg. It had large, fluffy ears and a big bushy tail, that was as large has the rest of his body. Ollowyn frowned and observed the fox more closely. No. There was definitely too little meat on this one. No dinner material. He chose to take the fox as a challenge and continued with his breathing technique.

    Though Ollowyn had not calculated in such a nosy and curious little fox. The little beast started to make his lap a soft bed for it¡¯s nap and while that went well for a few minutes, Ollowyn¡¯s concentration was shaken completely when the tiny white snowball climbed over his shoulder and tried to sit on his head.

    The boy let his head tilt forwards, which sent the little fox back towards the oak trunk. ¡°You can¡¯t just climb up there. That¡¯s irritating!¡±

    The fox tilted it¡¯s head and sniffed the oak trunk. Ollowyn sighed. He grabbed the tiny creature carefully and placed it on his lap, while he stroked between its large ears. Immediately the tiny, fluffy snowball curled his tail around the body and fell asleep. Ollowyn smiled. It reminded him of when he grew up with wolves. They curled around him like this as well.

    In his very relaxed position he continued his breathing techniques. He strictly followed the old masters explanations. He breathed in deep, imagining the energy of the air flowing into his lungs and being distributed throughout his body. Yet Ollowyn was not quite able to produce this exact feeling. He felt that he absorbed the world around himself. Smells, sounds, the temperature of his surroundings as well as the little fox on his lap. He did not have to imagine distributing it inside. It already felt right as he simply took it in.

    When Ollowyn had finished his meditation sundown was in progress. His stomach growled so loudly, that even his new friend eyed him curiously.

    ¡°You hungry too?¡± The boy asked and scratched the fox behind its ears.

    ¡°Nya. Rrr.¡± He growled lightly. Did it understand him? Ollowyn would have to give the small bugger a name, he intended on keeping him. He just did not know many names. Maybe Mephian or one of the other students would be able to help with that?

    Ollowyn pulled the wicker basket closer and opened it up. He gave the fox a few pieces of dried meat, but the little fluffy animal just knocked it out of his hand and tilted its head again.

    Huh? He did not like meat? Ollowyn tried cheese, eggs and bread. But each time the tiny fox denied his gesture.

    ¡°Hmm. Not hungry then?¡± Ollowyn took a big bite out of the bread and held it to the fox. Again it was swatted away with a loud ¡°Nyarrr!¡±

    Ollowyn ate his fill and showed the fox that all the things were actually edible. But the little thing just yawned and rolled up in front of him. Shrugging Ollowyn packed away the basket and reached for his axe again. Now there was still enough light for one last bout with the trees. He chose another thick oak and started his work.

    Deep and heavy hits impacted the tree and quickly created a large hole. As Ollowyn was about to strike with his ninth Arr¨¢gata swing, the little fox jumped into the newly created hole! Ollowyn janked his axe upwards in panic and was able to strike the tree much higher than intended. He left the axe stuck at the height of his head.

    ¡°What are you doing!¡± He asked with shock. ¡°I nearly killed you!¡±

    The tiny white fox just tilted his head again and lifted its tail. It looked much different than last time Ollowyn looked at it. It was no longer a single white bushy tail. There were three now.

    The fox roared a loud ¡°Nyarrrr!¡±, before it opened its mouth far more than Ollowyn would have guessed, and rammed its teeth into the tree. The fluffy snowball chewed on a piece of ripped out wood before it swallowed loudly.

    Ollowyn blinked. Then he also swallowed. He was dreaming. That was just not possible. Did this little thing just really¡­

    Then the fox ripped another large chunk of wood out of the already tormented tree.

 Chapter 21

    Minv¨¢vriel stepped quickly through the pitifully formed chunks of stones, that the savages liked to call a city. Even in this moonless, cold night, it was far hardly any better. It was disgusting. Those filthy streets covered in dirt and mud, and those disgusting creatures were reeking almost as bad as a horde of orcs. When a city guard stepped out of a side street, with a face like a crippled apple, wrath lines showed on her face.

    She drew both of her short sword and cleaved the man to pieces. Her blades found every nook and cranny in the armor, cutting apart both joints and tendons with a few small hand movements. Then she finished her work with a quick slash to his vocal cords, so she would no longer have to listen to his screams in that rape of a language. The man stared at her with painful expression.

    Minv¨¢vriel saw the wish of death shimmering in his eyes. She did not grant his favour. Another deep cut destroyed his eyes and made the black armor of the Albae the last thing this pathetic savage would ever see.

    It was not in her nature to leave someone alive. But who would tell the other savages to stay as far away from her as possible, is she cut all of them down before they got to spread the message?

    Luckily the view improved a lot as she stepped through the gates to the inner fortress. Even though the stone building itself was as ugly as all the others in this human infested city, her lover Van¨¢tor¨¢s had at least decorated with a few of his art pieces. Two large trees made of white bones, that reminded of a harsh winter improved the area alongside a few paintings that hung on the walls. Her lover had created them out of the skin and blood of those worthless savages, yet it looked like she was looking in a mirror, covered with the blood of her enemies.

    His creativity and attention to detail to her beauty ignited her passion. She stepped into the room in which she usually worked with him and took off her dark Dur¨¢ssium helmet.

    ¡°Welcome back.¡± A dry voice croaked from the other side of the room. A wrath line shot over Minv¨¢vriel¡¯s face and she let a dagger of pure, black Dur¨¢ssium fly towards the source.

    The dagger crushed through the eye of the captured human, that was chained to the wall and created silence. Minv¨¢vriel stripped off her black armor and dressed into a thin black gown, before she stepped towards her lover, that was staring down the balcony into the fighting arena below.

    Van¨¢tor¨¢s had a fascinated expression. Urgh. He was observing those filthy savages in the fights he had arranged again. Her left hand reached for his neck and her fingers slid up through his long, dark hair, that stood in extreme contrast to her own blond hair. ¡°What do you see in those¡­ animals?¡± Minv¨¢vriel asked exasperatedly.

    ¡°Only the one is interesting. The others much less. They will be stepping stones in letting him grow.¡± He turned away from the massaker and all his attention was focused on her. The short and perfect fingernails on his right hand reached for her thin throat and slid up gently while his right reached for her hip possessively. He stared into her deep, dark eyes. He was barely able to see the true color of her eyes.

    Wrath lines slowly crept over his face as he stared towards the fire. His natural magic abilities let it die down slowly. Completely darkness remained. And yet, he was able to see all that he wanted within two meters clearly. His fingers stroked her cheek and he was finally able to spot her eyes. Green, sprinkled with darkness. A sight that was more intimate than anything else for an Alb.

    Both Albae felt connected, as always when they loved each other. Their lips finally met. A rush of emotion overcame him as their tongues touched for a short dance and separated again. Minv¨¢vriel bit his lower lip playfully for a moment and pulled his body closer to her.

    Van¨¢tor¨¢s grabbed her throat and stroked upwards with his thumb to turn her head slightly. Then he kissed her neck. His soulmate shuddered from the anticipation of what was to come and her fingernails digged into his back. He pushed the thin, black gown from her shoulders, from where it fell to the ground silently.

    Minv¨¢vriel shoved him away lovingly, and before his greedy eyes could even glance at her naked body, she had already turned away from him. She eyed him provocatively over her shoulders and raised a brow.

    Immediately V¨¢ntor¨¢s skillfully pulled at the strings that kept his leather Jerkin on his body. Deftly it fell off his body with his leather trousers and he presented himself to his beloved in all of his glory. There was no hint of shyness in him. He was only confident. Her gaze fell on his erect manhood and before she could do more than to lick her lips in anticipation of what was to come, he was already behind her and blocked her sight.

    He grabbed her small breasts from behind and kissed her neck, while her fingers clawed into his behind to pull him closer. Van¨¢tor¨¢s right hand wandered lower, but before he could reach her nether regions his beloved jerked away from him and let herself fall to bed. He followed and straddled her legs greedily.

    Minv¨¢vriel grabbed the hair of her beloved while his tongue caused pleasure as he licked her pussy. His hands scratched over her stomach lightly and searched for her small breasts, while wave after wave of pleasure shot through her body. It was almost unfair how well he was able to exploit her weak spots. It did not take long, before she could not take it any longer and she pulled him higher in anticipation. He entered her immediately. If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement.

    A long love night ensued as always when they decided to give in to their urges. It was as if they were sinking into each other. Melting into a single being. Only their own bodily exhaustion would be able to seperate them in the end. But the night was still young and it was already morning before Minv¨¢vriel fell asleep on the stomach of her beloved, as he lovingly flung the silk bed sheets over her naked body.

    Then he also started to fall into a light slumber. The day would disappear in the blink of an eye, as the two lovers only woke for brief tenderness that they gave each other, before slumbering again. Time was a relative concept for the Albae. An hour, a day, a year. It was meaningless in the change of times.

    They would have kept at this longer and maybe would have even started to make love to each other again, had a sharp metallic noise not ripped them out of their secludedness. Minv¨¢vriel moaned in annoyance. ¡°My dagger?¡± She asked.

    Van¨¢tor¨¢s smiled, killed her neck and pulled her back to the soft silk pillow. ¡°Yes. Do you want to go or should I?¡±

    Minv¨¢vriel rose, with wrath lines creeping all over her face. The blond Alb quickly threw over her thin, black gown and gave her beloved one last look at her naked body, before she stepped into the room next door, where she picked up the black Dur¨¢ssium dagger from the bloody floor. She eyed the savage. The eye was already nearly healed.

    Only seconds later it finished and both eyes focused on her. The human said nothing and closed his eyes though. Not enough to escape Minv¨¢vriel¡¯s wrath this time. With a quick strike she severed his right arm, throwing it over the balcony. It would fall towards the nightmares, giving them a decent meal. They hardly ever felt real hunger since Van¨¢tor¨¢s fed them with the leftovers fighters that barely survived the encounter. But the cursed unicorns always appreciated fresh meat.

    But aside from inflicting a bit of pain to the ugly savage on her wall, it did little to kill him.

    Alathiel, the immortal, eyed her out of calm, unconcerned eyes. Pain and regret were visible in his eyes, but that was always the case and he remained ever so silent. He raised a brow at her as he continued to bleed out on the floor. Disgusted, Minv¨¢vriel severed his head and nailed it to the wall before she thres the rest of him down towards her companions.

    It would not incapacitate him forever, but it would take a while before he recovered. Why this human did not die, was still a mystery to her.

    Van¨¢tor¨¢s stepped into the room and eyed the blood soaked floor. In the beginning it had fascinated him, and he wanted to know how he did that. But since this savage reacted to every kind of pain inflicted to him with a shrug, there was no information to be gained by torturing him. And with that he was only a piece of self regenerating flesh. Nearly worthless. Would he have been compatible to the demonic-emerald, he would have at least fulfilled a purpose¡­

    He grabbed Minv¨¢vriel from behind while she was watched as the nightmares ripped the bloody body into pieces. But the cursed unicorns were not what weighed on her black soul. ¡°I don¡¯t know what it is that you find so fascinating about this savage? He fights well, yes. But I don¡¯t see the meaning behind this? Why is it giving you so much pleasure to watch him fight against hundreds of his own?¡±

    Van¨¢tor¨¢s hugged her and whispered in her ear. ¡°You have seen him back when we attack the city of those savages. They are short lived, weak creatures. Yet sometimes, you can find rare ones, that are stronger. I want to see if it is possible to make him grow again. As he did back then.¡±

    ¡°What for?¡± Minv¨¢vriel did not like it when her beloved kept his plans to himself and did not share them with her. ¡°Will you explain it to me? What you want with him after that? It is irritating.¡±

    He grinned. ¡°I thought of taking him with us to Ds?n. If he could be strong enough to fight against me, he can defeat Do¨¦lthar or someone else that we want to see humiliated. The indelible will not accept anyone, that was defeated by a mere human. It could make for good political leverage.¡±

    Minv¨¢vriel frowned. ¡°For that you wasted six parts of eternity? You could have helped me, or find a more useful preoccupation.¡± She eyed him thoughtfully.

    ¡°You would not have wanted my help anyway. And i can¡¯t occupy myself with art the whole time. There is not that much beauty in this city, that would make for inspiration. Even though our little immortal friend would make for endless material.¡± He pointed at the lifeless head hanging from the wall. ¡°The only thing that inspires me is you.¡± He sighed.

    The blond Alb smiled. ¡°Then let us eradicate the city. Clean it out completely. I just had a great idea.¡±

    She turned around and left the room, Van¨¢tor¨¢s followed slowly.

    ---------

    Alathiel slowly regained consciousness. The pain was far away and distant, and he barely felt the need to open his eyes. It would be a pointless struggle anyway. He just wanted to sleep. Sleep and forget. Admittedly he could have found someone better to chain him up on a wall to achieve his goal of a peaceful rest, but those ageless beings might lose interest and lock him up for good eventually. Maybe in hope to find out his origins, or just to keep him in their collection.

    But even those ageless beings would crumble away to dust before his eyes eventually. But unlike the other times when he had regained his limbs, he was not immediately strung up on the wall in chains this time. Had they lost interest? If so, he might be able to find a better spot to sleep, rather than this floor, covered in his own blood. Mildly curious he opened his eyes and spotted that his fellow inmate was gone.

    Huh. Apparently they really had lost interest. Alathiel slowly got back on his feet, looking down from the balcony into the huge fighting arena that was located in the middle of the fortress. His two captors were walking around yelling orders to a large amount of frightened humans. Most of them were scared to death. Even the women and children were present. Apparently it was no call to war. Were the Albae going to slaughter them all?

    Alathiel looked into the eyes of one very frightened child. Then he turned to walk towards the bed. A few days of comfortable sleep if he was lucky. The humans would turn to dust before long, and he did not feel like getting to know them before that happened. As he fell to the soft bed, a deep, dreamless slumber soon took him towards forgiving nothingness.

    As always he only harboured one wish. To never wake up again. A wish that never happened.

 Chapter 22

    Ollowyn watched his newfound companion as it chomped down on the large tree again. He wasn¡¯t imagining things. This little fluffy snowball was eating solid wood like it was raw and tender meat. The sounds the cracking wood produced made the whole process even more bizarre. But the little guy seemed peaceful enough, even though its bite strength really seemed out of place.

    The silver haired boy shrugged and proceeded to cut down more trees while the little white fox continued to work it¡¯s way through the large oak trunk. Ollowyn was a little concerned though. What if the large tree smashed the tiny guy, while it was falling over? Oh, well. There was no way the tiny fox worked ate itself all the way through that giant tree right? So Ollowyn grabbed his axe tightly and went to work.

    The sun had already vanished completely when Ollowyn finally gave in to his exhaustion again. He was able to use the technique longer again. Following his master''s technique was definitely the right thing to do. The heavy black durak steel axe felt more and more familiar. Ollowyn was slowly getting used to the feeling of swinging it around and he was curious how it would feel to wield it in a real fight.

    The touched silver swallow, Thasun¡¯s old sword. No. He would stay true to his way. He was a swordsman, like his master. He looked up at the full moon that had risen over the edge of the mountainside. Thasun was gone. His absence still hurt. Ollowyn grabbed his sword with his left. A deep sadness overcame him, that only lifted when he spotted his little fox friend again. The white fluff ball was curled up inside the mostly eaten tree, clearly sleeping.

    The giant oak had been eaten through nearly completely. Did the fox really eat that much wood in one go? That had to be at least twenty times it¡¯s own body weight. If not more. Ollowyn picked up the large wicker basket and filled it with large chunks of wood that were left over from him knocking down trees. Then he carefully picked up the little fox and placed him in the basket.

    Satisfied with his day¡¯s work, Ollowyn returned to the village. It was night time already, so he encountered barely anyone. Most of the grown ups were gathering in the local pub, but Ollowyn had been told multiple times that he was not allowed in there yet, only when he got older. He spotted a few teenagers sitting on a rather flat roof of a large house as well, but aside from that and a few chickens that had apparently escaped from somewhere, he didn¡¯t meet anyone on his way to Karthan¡¯s house.

    When he knocked against the wooden door with his axe lightly, it was Alissa that opened. She smiled in surprise. ¡°Ollowyn. You wanna eat something? I just finished cooking, but I can make you something too?¡±

    Ollowyn shook his head and stepped into the warm house. ¡°No, thank you. I¡¯m not that hungry. I¡¯m sorry to come by so late, but I wanted to ask Karthan something.¡±

    Alissa closed the door behind him and shoved him towards the dining table. ¡°Nonsense. You gotta eat something.¡± She sat him down on a chair opposite of Sarafina and went into the kitchen.

    The girl was positively happy to see him. ¡°Ollo!¡± She lifted a large piece of meat from her plate with her fork. It was almost the size of her own head. ¡°Look. All alone!¡±

    Karthan immediately grabbed her hand and shoved the large piece of meat back towards the plate. ¡°Sara, I know you want to show Ollowyn how you can cut the meat all by yourself, but he can see it fine even when it¡¯s on your plate.¡±

    Sarafina pouted visibly for a second, then she grabbed the tiny knife next to her plate and started cutting the meat very slowly. Her fist was clutched tightly around the cutlery and her face reddened in concentration. When she finally managed to cut off a decent sized piece she lifted it with her fork high over her head in Ollowyns direction. ¡°Look!¡±

    Ollowyn smiled. ¡°Well done. All by yourself.¡±

    The girl nodded happily. ¡°Mm!¡± Then she ate the piece and continued to cut frantically.

    ¡°Slowly!¡± Karthan reminded her as Alissa dropped a plate in front of him.

    Ollowyn frowned. ¡°I am really not that hungry, Alissa.¡±

    ¡°Nonsense.¡± She said, placing a large bowl on top of his plate. A few seconds later it was filled with warm barley soup. ¡°It¡¯s still warm, you better eat it!¡± She looked at him sternly, but Ollowyn could find warmth in her eyes. Then she sat down next to her husband.

    Karthan kissed her briefly before she rested her head against his shoulder.

    ¡°Thank you for the meal.¡± Ollowyn said. He took a big spoon full. Pieces of meat, barley and various vegetables made for a real treat. Greedily he took another spoon full. ¡°That tastes so good. Thank you.¡±

    ¡°Of course. I have the best wife after all.¡± Karthan exclaimed, kissing his wife on the cheek.

    ¡°Ollo. Play?¡± Sarafina asked, her mouth still full of half chewed meat.

    ¡°Later, Sara. First eat up and let him eat too.¡± Karthan said sternly. ¡°Ollowyn, how is your training going? Marun told me you are getting taught a new technique from Iordai?¡±

    Ollowyn swallowed. The barley soup was soooo good. ¡°Uhm, yeah. The great master taught me your technique. Arr¨¢gata.¡±This book''s true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.

    Karthan raised his eyebrows in surprise. ¡°Really? Wait¡­ You are using it when you are cutting down trees?¡±

    ¡°Yes. It¡¯s not easy to use though.¡± Ollowyn said between bites.

    ¡°Yeah, no kidding. It tires you out so quickly. You use it all day?!?¡± Karthan frowned.

    Ollowyn shook his head. ¡°No, I use it as often as I can, then rest and repeat. I cut down-¡± He stopped to think of how the correct number was called again. ¡°Sixty-four? Yes. Sixty-four trees so far. But I am slowly starting to get faster at it.¡±

    Karthan smiled. ¡°Good to see that I could still keep up with you. Seventy trees in three days is doable, even for me. Not sure, if I could do that with only Arr¨¢gata though.¡±

    Sara raised her large piece of meat in the air again and cheered. ¡°Gata!¡±

    ¡°The great master taught me another meditation technique. I can feel that I recover much better with it, but it is hard to use still.¡± Ollowyn finished the last of his bowl, before he stole the remaining piece of meat off of Sarafina¡¯s plate. She had given up on eating anyway.

    She smiled when she realised that they were both finished with their food soon. ¡°Play?¡±

    ¡°Yes, but I have brought something that I wanted to show you first.¡± Ollowyn raised the wicker basket carefully and opened the lid. The little fox was still curled up and sleeping, although the amount of wood he had put in definitely looked smaller.

    Carefully he lifted the tiny white fox out and put him on the dinner table.

    Immediately Sara jumped up excitedly and screeched happy. ¡°Foxy! Foxy!¡±

    The white fluffball woke up, seemingly displeased. It only opened one eye, pretending to sleep some more.

    ¡°A white fox. It looks odd. Large ears and a very bushy tail. Where did you find it?¡± Karthan asked.

    ¡°It found me. I was just meditating when it came to me. But that isn¡¯t the weird thing.¡± Ollowyn took another piece of wood out of the basket, about the size of his fist. He gave it to Sarafina. ¡°Here. Give this to him.¡±

    The girl took the piece with both her hands curiously, holding it in front of the cute little fox.

    Alissa raised a brow. ¡°What are you doing with this piece of woo-¡±

    But she was interrupted by the tiny white fox biting into it and crushing the wood between its teeth. Within seconds it had devoured the wood out of the hands of Sarafina, before licking the fingers of the chuckling girl and curling up again to sleep. The fox let Sarafina stroke its fur.

    Ollowyn relaxed. He had been very careful, just in case the fox was going to do anything to his little girl. He had a feeling that the creature was not as harmless as it looked.

    ¡°It eats wood? So it came for you because you were cutting down trees?¡± Karthan asked curiously.

    ¡°Yes, I think so? Do you know what kind of animal this is? I have never seen something like it. That was why I came actually. To find out more.¡± Ollowyn frowned.

    Alissa shook her head. ¡°I never heard of any animal eating wood.¡± She observed how Sara cuddled her face into the soft fur, the tiny fox licking her face approvingly. Apparently he liked her. ¡°Maybe it is a magical beast?¡±

    Ollowyn frowned. ¡°Magical beast?¡±

    Karthan nodded. ¡°Like dragons. They are rare, but legends say that they appear whenever the world is about to change. Have you ever heard the legend of Zardoz? The titan of Er¨¢d S?l?¡±

    The silver haired boy shook his head. ¡°No.¡±

    ¡°Zardoz is famous for deciding a very important siege in Valuans favour, when they were just an up and coming city state. It''s a very, very old story. But Zardoz was also famous for having a companion, that he took everywhere. A Ran¡äkhul. It is a magical beast, that has the ability to be invisible in the night sky and attack with fireballs.¡± Karthan explained.

    ¡°Fireballs? Like a dragon?¡± Ollowyn asked. He really would love to see a dragon one day. ¡°You think this fox is also a magical beast?¡±

    ¡°Tha! Tha!¡± Sarafina said, patting the head of the little fox that had started playing with her hands. Curling around on the table playfully.

    ¡°You want to name him, Sara?¡± Ollowyn asked. But the little girl thought for a few seconds before she repeated her words. ¡°Tha! Thaschun.¡±

    The table got very quiet. Karthan looked sad, while Alissa frowned and concern was written all over her face. ¡°She must have heard you mention the name before Ollowyn.¡± She said quietly.

    Ollowyn had to grin. His master would definitely not like it to have a cute and tiny white fox named after him. That was exactly why it was a good idea. ¡°I don¡¯t know. I like it. Thasun fits.¡±

    Karthan raised a brow. ¡°Does it?¡±

    Sarafina grinned happily while she played with the foxes belly. ¡°Thaschun! Thaschun!¡± They seemed to get along well.

    Then Thasun suddenly stopped reacting and turned back on its stomach. Sara looked confused on the sudden end of their happy playtime. Then the little fox puked. Or at least it looked like it did.

    ¡°Urgh, hairball?¡± Alissa said with a disgusted face. ¡°Our old cat used to do that so often. Ollo, get it off the table if it-¡± But what she saw made her pause.

    Thasun did not cough up a hairball. It was a marble that shimmered like a darkening night sky, dark blue and black, with a very intriguing and shifting wooden brown pattern. The little white fox nudged the marble towards Sarafina, raising its tail.

    Or rather it¡¯s two tails. Ollowyn had seen that happen before. ¡°Looks like you are right Karthan. This looks like it really is a magical beast.¡±

    The fox yawned and curled back up again, while the girl picked up the marble. Karthan looked ready to pounce on anything that happened, now more attentive than ever. Ollowyn was ready as well. Everything seemed calm, but he had never seen magic happen before so he prefered being careful.

    Sarafina started laughing. ¡°Warm. Tiggles.¡± She held the marble in her right hand while her left touched the table.

    Immediately twigs started to sprout out of the table, as the dead wood came to life. Dozens of plants took root, not only saplings, even a large variety of flowers and in all colors grew out of the saplings. Plants that were very much different from each other grew on top of each other, fusing themselves to a new plant entirely.

    Sarafina was cheering happily, casting magic like it was the most natural thing in the world.

    Karthan, Ollowyn and Alissa sat there baffled, contemplating what this meant.

    The first human to cast magic in over a hundred years¡­ was born.

 Chapter 23

    Minv¨¢vriel had donned her black durassium armor and was organising the citizens into groups. When she and Van¨¢tor¨¢s had taken over this sorry excuse of a city, they had brought order. The humans were clearly ranked depending on the district they lived in, making it easier to put blame on a single soul for the shortcomings of the many. This made those few individuals incredibly interested in keeping everybody in line. It had taken some work to whip those savages into shape, but now they did better than the average rot of orcs.

    Her plan to properly ¡°train¡± the human, that Van¨¢tor¨¢s found so very interesting, was to present him with a challenge. She would send the humans to fight him, which was not much different from his earlier battles. But she would limit him severely in order to motivate improvement. If the human died¡­ Then it would be so. It was not important. Her objective in this little game was another.

    She made sure to put the human women into the groups of fighters as well, taking their children hostage to keep them in line effectively. She put those little ones in the viewingstands of the arena, to keep whoever was fighting at the time motivated. After she assigned various officers and explained them what to do and how, as well as the possible consequences, she left for the dungeon of the fighting arena. It was time to explain everything to the human in question.

    Speaking to all those filthy savages had put her in a foul mood and she would enjoy the feeling of an empty city afterwards.

    The fighting arena was pretty well designed, but it lacked beauty. It had been literally carved out of the mountain the fortress had been built on and reached pretty deep. Thestands were able to hold a thousand people with ease, while the arena itself was shaped in the form of an oval. The best view was Cleary to be had from the chambers the two Albae had set up camp in. And naturally so, since those had been the chambers of the former human rulers.

    The walls of the arena were around four to five meters in height and the stone was smoothed enough to make it impossible for any human to scale the tall walls. For Minv¨¢vriel it was nothing. The humans were not capable of doing any job right, so this one was no exception. There were slight elevations in the smoothed walls, barely visible to a human eye, but for her it would be enough to climb at any time.

    Below the countlessstandings, a couple dozen staircases winded down into the dungeons that were situated right below the fighting area. Minv¨¢vriel was sure that the impact of blades and the screams of agony could be heard from below, which was pretty sadistic. It would be lovely to have such a arena back in Ds?n. Keeping tortured elbs below the very place their race would find its end was quite the interesting idea. It could probably be monetized properly as well.

    As she stepped down the long winding stairs, she shoved the thought aside. Her mood lifted when she saw Van¨¢tor¨¢s already speaking to the human in question. She stepped next to him silently. He had put on his dark leather armor and carried a longbow on his back. Dozens of black feathered arrows rested in the quiver on his hip. He looked good. She had a quick thought about last night, before diverting her attention to the human.

    The cells were constructed with literal beams of wood that had been built into the walls on two sides and stone walls on the others. The space in between the wooden beams was not large. That made it possible to speak to the prisoners and observe them at any time, while still keeping them locked up well. Maybe it was also designed that was so they could hear the arena from above? Minv¨¢vriel appreciated it, for now she didn¡¯t have to actually enter the filthy dungeon cells.

    The human looked...well. It was odd, since her brother sent him to fight every couple of days and she knew that he would hardly make it an easy fight. He wore clean clothes, he looked clean and bathed. Apparently her brother treated him well. She had not expected this.

    Minv¨¢vriel stepped towards the cage and spoke to the human. ¡°What is your name?¡±

    <hr>

    Thasun opened his left eye and looked at the woman, clad in black armor calmly. It was the first time since they had left Sandrei. She had struck him from behind, after which a sharp pain made him faint. That was the last thing he remembered. After that he had been unconscious for weeks, maybe even months. After he had woken up in this shody prison cell, only the male Alb, Van¨¢tor¨¢s had appeared from time to time. Thasun did not know why they had not killed him yet, but if he ever got the chance, he would kill both of them and escape this place.

    Thasun had healed up well, thanks to the breathing techniques of the Iordai clan and the care of various doctors that the Alb had sent him. The swordmaster had to admit, these creatures truly deserved to be the rumors of legends. He would lose to either one of them, and their entire race was probably hardly any different. But Thasun was close to the fourth level now. The months of meditation, mixed with fights had done wonders. He was progressing quickly.

    This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

    Once he reached the same level as his master, he could fight the Albae on equal footing. Probably. He had never actually seen them fight properly and he could only guess from their movements and behaviour during the siege of Sandrei. He still felt that the female one was much more dangerous, although he could not tell why.

    He ignored her question defiantly and closed his eye again.

    <hr>

    This pathetic human had the audacity to ignore her question. Rage lines shot all over her face below the dark durassium plate helmet and she put some of her natural abilities into her voice as she repeated the question.

    ¡°What is your name~?¡± She asked, with a soothing voice.

    The eyes of the human shot open and he was about to answer her call, as he bit his own lower lip. Hard. As a few droplets of blood ran down his chin, the pain ripped him from her magical grasp.

    Minv¨¢vriel was impressed. Very few savages had so far managed to do so. Shrugging, she took off her helmet in a flowing motion and stepped closer to the cage. Then she repeated the question, using her looks to amplify the natural beauty of her voice. Even Van¨¢tor¨¢s looked at her intensely.

    ¡°Who. Are. You.¡± She whispered.

    ¡°Thasun Torr¨¦i.¡± The human replied, unable to stop himself.

    Her charm had already taken root. It would be hard for him to refuse her requests now.

    ¡°You will have one last fight. Follow us.¡± She said, throwing the keys into the cell and turning around. The human complied, hurrying after them.

    Van¨¢tor¨¢s did not make the mistake to underestimate Thasun. He walked behind him, his bow undrawn but his hand on one of his knives. It would be foolish to turn his back to the human. He was not THAT weak.

    ¡°Why didn¡¯t you kill me? What do you gain from keeping me alive?¡± Thasun asked with a frown.

    Minv¨¢vriel did not answer. She did not care for whatever this savage being thought. He would be dead soon either way.

    ¡°You will find out in due time.¡± Van¨¢tor¨¢s replied in her stead.

    They remained quiet for the rest of their ascent towards the arena. As Minv¨¢vriel stepped into the fighting grounds, everything had been prepared as she had wished for. Countless children below the age of fourteen were placed in the stands, and the first challenger had taken position on the other side of the arena. Satisfied, she turned towards Thasun.

    ¡°You will fight all the humans of this city. You will do so without the use of weapons. While they may use whatever they want.¡± Minv¨¢vriel smiled sadistically. It was easily enough to further shake the swordsman''s concentration with her charms. She had his full attention.

    ¡°Everytime you use a weapon to defend yourself, Van¨¢tor¨¢s will kill one of the children. Everytime you kill one of your opponents, he will kill one of the children. Every time he sees you accepting surrender without actually beating someone¡­¡± She sighed. ¡°...he will kill one of the children.¡±

    Thasun nodded. ¡°I understand.¡± His face was grim, and he seemed to understand the implication of her words.

    Minv¨¢vriel nodded towards her beloved and left towards the fortress. When she exited, she heard the beginning of the first of many, many fights.

    <hr>

    Thasun looked after the beautiful, blonde woman. It was bizarre, but even though he knew what she was and the things she had done, he was unable to resist her charm. Like a invisible hand that forced him to listen to whatever she said. A worm that sat deep inside of his mind, rearing its ugly head.

    He was glad that she left. Concentrating would have been difficult otherwise. Clearing his mind as best as he could, the warrior opposite of him started to charge him. The children on thestands above cheered for him.

    The man looked experienced as well. From the steel and bronze reinforced leather armor he wore, Thasun deduced that he was either from the city guards, or the fortress garrison''s. He had no way of speculating any further than that, however, since he had never been conscious outside of this fighting pit, after he had been taken in the battle of Sandrei.

    The soldier used a short sword and a round shield. Both were light and allowed for quick and precise movement. And his opponent was rather skilled for a common guard. The first three quick sword strikes were placed almost perfectly and would have left a normal warrior little choice but to block or parry.

    Thasun however was too quick for that. He evaded to strikes with fast side steps and dove below the third strike to grab hold of his opponents shield.

    ¡°Every time you use a weapon to defend yourself¡­¡± The thought shot through his mind and Thasun let go of the shield immediately. Albae did not make empty threats. They would shoot every single child up there if he defied their will.

    His opponent stepped forward quickly and bashed his shield against Thasun¡¯s shoulder. It did not have quite the effect he had hoped for, as HE was sent flying towards the ground instead. Thasun was above him immediately, breaking the soldiers wrist with a hard kick, knocking loose the short sword, before he put the man in a choke hold below his foot. A few moments later the man dropped unconscious.

    This way of fighting was hard. It would cost a lot more energy to disable someone instead of going for a quick kill. It was not the way of the Iordai school. He really would have to conserve his energy here.

    Two guards rushed from the sidelines of the arena to pick up the unconscious man. Thasun was not certain, but the Albae might use all the fighters he beat repeatedly against him. The threat to kill children if he killed, implied as much.

    His next enemies were a woman and a man. The woman held a bow and a quiver, looking frantically over thestands of the arena. She was clearly looking for her child. Thasun felt anger rise up in his chest, when he thought about that. If someone put him in the same situation with Ollowyn¡­ He gritted his teeth. He would kill those two Albae!

    The soldier was armed with one long and three shorter spears, wearing a chainmail. Thasun emptied his mind in order to concentrate. Seconds later he was in a state of utmost control. He felt good. Calmly he walked towards his two opponents.

    The man acted first. A short spear flew towards Thasun with good aim. This man knew what he was doing. A quick ducking step forward let Thasun evade without much trouble, but the woman had been waiting. Her arrows flew towards his chest. The swordmaster had expected as much. He caught the arrow out of the air skillfully.

    A single arrow wasn¡¯t much of a threat when he saw it coming. He broke the arrow like a twig in his hand, in order to avoid being under the suspicion of using it to defend himself. The Alb was watching after all.

    He continued his calm walk towards them, but both his enemies showed fear and clearly were not willing to fight anymore¡­

 Chapter 24

    Dorian woke up while two guards carried him between themselves. ¡°Urgh. Wha¡­ What happened?¡± A piercing pain shot up from his right wrist while his throat burned terribly from speaking.

    ¡°He broke your wrist and choked you out, after you tried to knock him over with your shield. You don¡¯t remember?¡± The man to his left said.

    They had apparently carried him all the way to the exit of the arena that lead down into the dungeons. Dorian¡¯s head hurt quite a bit as well. ¡°I can stand myself. Let me go!¡±

    The two guards did as they were told, but caught him when he collapsed on his weak legs. ¡°Or not.¡± The one to his right spoke. He turned to look back into the arena. ¡°The next ones are probably going to join you soon.¡±

    Dorian looked at the mysterious man the Albae had told them to fight. He evaded a spear with an agile step, before catching an arrow out of the air like it was the easiest thing in the world. When the man broke the thing with two fingers a shudder ran down his back. He really fought that?

    Sighing in relief that he was still alive, he asked the guards. ¡°What now?¡±

    ¡°Now you go to the Albae for further orders. We are only supposed to gather the defeated as best we can and send them there as soon as we can.¡± The gruff man on his right spoke.

    They let him go again and this time Dorian remained on his feet. His hand hurt terribly. ¡°What kind of monster is he?¡± He asked, while observing the fight. His former opponent had dashed towards the woman, evading spears and arrows with easy, now knocking her out with a flat palm to the forehead. She fell like a puppet that had its strings cut.

    ¡°At least he isn¡¯t killing anyone. He is clearly on our side. The Albae probably force him into it as much as they force us.¡± The man to his left said quietly.

    ¡°Get going now. If that Alb sees you lingering too long he might start killing children. Hurry before I kick you down the stairs myself!¡± Yelled the gruff man to his right. Dorian nodded and hurried downwards to the dungeons.

    From there he climbed upstairs into the viewer ranks again. He got more and more nervous with every step. Facing the Albae was without any doubt, always a bad thing. Would they kill him for losing? What was their objective here, anyway? Was it all part of a sick, twisted game? Not to forget going past those horrifying black, horse like creatures again. He had once seen tham bite a whole shoulder out of a man, those things were pure evil.

    When he reached the end of the stairs, two grim city guards told him that he had to go towards the fortress as well. Some of the children in the ranks were eyeing him with worried expressions. He felt guilty. He had failed them. If he beat that man¡­ No, he had no chance from the start. He had been doomed to fail all on his own. The guards took his armor, that would serve a later fighter and sent him on his way.

    Dorian had always hated those highly ranked guards. They sucked up to the Albae, doing their every bidding. Were they even on the side of the citizens? Bitter, Dorian walked out of the arena.

    The two nightmares were resting in the courtyard, and he made sure to walk around them while putting the largest distance possible in between them. Half bitten bones littered the ground and gave a grim reminder that they were carnivores. When he entered through the heavy wooden door, all his worries faded away in an instant.

    A beautiful blonde woman was standing in the middle of the room. Her smile pierced his mind and shattered it completely. Nothing mattered anymore. Not the fight, not the children or the city. Not even his own life itself. All he wanted to do for the rest of his life was to stand here, right now and look at¡­ her.

    Dorian had been in love before, a charming girl in his youth. But this¡­ this was stronger. He felt his heart ache in pain as he did not even dare approach this beautiful woman. Desire grew in his body and he finally made a step forward.

    The woman stood up and eyed him out of the black abyss of her eyes. This staggered him for a second, before the sound of her voice took firm control of his mind again.

    ¡°Give me your heart.~¡± She whispered in a melodic voice, that could have made god himself smile. His newfound goddess have him a sharp black knife.

    Dorian hesitated for a brief moment, before she spoke again. ¡°Now.~¡±

    He jammed the knife in his upper body, trying to cut himself open to adhere to her wished. He had to give her his heart. Now. It was detrimental that he did. She wished for it! He needed to do it. Right this very moment.

    His ribcage proved too big of a challenge however, he could not get his hand in properly to grasp his heart. Dorian felt her gaze on him. What would she think of him, now that he failed to do what she asked? Despair weighted down on him and made him even more aggressive in the pursuit of her wish. He broke his ribs with the handle of his blade, the pain hardly felt anymore.

    Where he took the strength from, he did not know. But he cut out his heart and presented her with it, while falling on his knees. She smiled. And Dorian was glad. She was satisfied.

    The she took his heart and threw it away. It was at this moment that he regained his senses. He had been fooled. Pain came crashing down on him and he knew that he was dying. Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.

    The blonde Alb reached for a green stone that rested on a nearby table and jammed it into his chest.

    <hr>

    Minv¨¢vriel frowned. How was this Thasun Torr¨¦i, a mere human, able to resist her to this extend, when she could bring human men to rip out their own hearts for her?

    It was insulting, but now she at least knew that it was not her powers, but his. For this insult alone, she would end his life, that much she swore to herself.

    She let go of that disgusting human heart and cast it aside. She grabbed the green, demonic stone with a piece of cloth and jammed it into his chest. Immediately his wounds closed up and the human presence faded into the background.

    The man rose, eying his body, that now glowed in green veins, draped all over his body. His eyes opened with a shining dark green light. Then the demon spoke. ¡°This body is weak! It cannot hold me! Bring me another! Stronger! FREE ME!¡± The voice was deep, dark and full of demand.

    Then the human body crumbled under the magical pressure, the body drying up, the hands and face soon resembling a mummified corpse, before turning into ash and falling apart in a storm of green ember. Only the stone itself remained.

    Minv¨¢vriel picked the cold green stone up with a piece of cloth again, taking care to not touch it by accident. She had the growing suspicion that the demon only took all those bodies in order to grow in power, and not actually desired a stronger vessel. If that was true, she would just have to keep going, feeding it until it was ready to stay.

    Only then she would be able to control it with the necklace of Laendra¨¦ll. The demon did not know of its existence, of course, otherwise it would never come out to play in the first place.

    It disgusted Minv¨¢vriel to walk around with a Elven necklace embedded on the inside of her chest armor. But it was necessary to bring them doom.

    She stepped towards the window, watching as another man and a woman approached the fortress. Soon. Soon her plan would fall into place.

    <hr>

    Thasun had lost count of how many people he had fought. At first the fights had been easy. A single warrior. Two. Three.

    But their numbers kept increasing and soon it was common for him to fight more than ten or more than twenty. They came organised, well drilled. Sometimes a few bowmen in the background aiming for a lucky shot. It became more and more challenging with every new round the Albae sent at him. Luckily not all of them were warriors, the rather briefly trained youngsters and woman in their ranks created many openings for him.

    Still, he was tired for quite some time now and the new arrivals looked fresh as always. This time there were six warriors, clad in heavy chainmail armor, sword and shield. There were nine young looking fighters as well, bearing leather armor and long spears. They would surely try and surround him against a wall again. Thasun sighed. At least they knew what they were doing.

    Seven woman in the back were helping out as well. Two carried javelins, four were armed with bows. And one, to Thasuns surprise carried a heavy battle axe. She looked like she could swing it too.

    Thasun gathered his strength again. A plan to beat the formation already forming in his head. Then one of the more experienced looking members of his opponents stepped forward. He threw his sword and shield after Thasun. Both of which missed without him having to sidestep at all.

    ¡°I will fight you with my bare hands!¡± He stepped forward lurking closer to Thasun with his fists raised high. A oddly brave gesture for an older man, like this one.

    Thasun was both confused and baffled at the same time. This man had lost all sense of reason. Very clearly. He would feel bad to knock him unconscious, but what choice did he have?

    The old man inched closer and closer until he was almost in Thasuns reach. Then he spoke again with a quiet voice, while throwing a few jabs against the swordmaster. ¡°Listen, the Alb with the bow has joined the second one in the fortress. He won''t hear what we talk. The guards they posted in the ranks between the children will be taken down by our allies when you knock me out.¡±

    Thasun evaded his punches with ease and pretended to hit him in the gut a few times, drawing closer. ¡°You want to revolt?¡±

    The old man let out a roar and kept on punching before he continued to talk quickly. ¡°Yes, we have a lot of men posted as lookouts upstairs. We will know if he comes back. You can take him on, right?¡±

    Thasun stepped past him and attack one of the other warriors, took his sword and dashed away from the group, before letting loose a few long ranged attack into the viewing area. His Zenzen strikes injured and downed multiple guards that had been posted by the Albae. Then he turned towards the old man. ¡°Your plan better have more steps to it than this.¡±

    His former opponents, how happily smiling and two women crying out in relieve swarmed towards him and thanked him. Thasun waved them off. ¡°This will be noticed. Do you have a way to escape the castle?¡±

    One of the younger men answered. ¡°Yes. Down in the dungeons there are hidden paths that lead out of the arena. It¡¯s a sewer system, that is rarely used now that these monsters live in the fortress.¡±

    Thasun nodded grimmly. A single small exit. This would take a long time. ¡°Don¡¯t have any illusions. This will not be easy. Organise your people to cheer or make noise from time to time, the Albae might not watch, but they will surely be listening.¡±

    The old man nodded grimmly. ¡°Alright. Can you stall them?¡±

    The swordmaster shook his head. ¡°I can fight them, sure. But against both of them I will lose for sure. I might be able to stall them for twenty minutes? Maybe longer.¡± He had no delusions about that.

    ¡°Those who lost to you never returned from their visit to the fortress.¡± A woman said quietly.

    ¡°We can only assume that they are dead. These pointy eared bastards are more evil than anything I have ever seen in my life. They don¡¯t care. They might kill everyone as part of some game.¡± Thasun said with a frown. ¡°I will need a few men to stall them with me. Twenty minutes won¡¯t save all those people.¡±

    The men in the group immediately wanted to volunteer, but Thasun only chose the older, and more experienced members. They quickly ascended the stairs up to the viewer ranks, while countless children slowly climbed down. A lot of them stayed behind to cheer whenever one of the men told them to and the atmosphere from before was more or less the same. Hopefully the Albae would not notice.

    Thasun had to hurt the men quite a bit before sending them towards the fortress. He broke legs and rips, as well as jaws and noses. They were all grimly accepting of their fate and did everything they could in order to buy time. The evacuation would take at least an three hours. Thasun insisted on them doing it in a single hour, and that they collapsed the stairwell in order to slow down the pursuing Albae. They would catch on for sure, it was only a matter of time now.

    Thasun wanted them to escape, but even more so, he wanted to fight the Albae. He felt that he was very close to that fourth level, that the great master possessed and with a little luck he would reach it while fighting them.

    The next half hour he spent meditating and recovering as much of his strength as possible, while the citizens brought him the best swords that they could find. They clearly put a lot of faith into him, as they laid down three black swords before him. They were forged from durak steel and apparently very well made.

    ¡°We stole them from the former royal treasury, when the Albae took over here¡­ They did not care, since the blades are badly forged in their mind. But it''s the best we could find.¡± The old man said.

    Thasun nodded as he raised the dark bastard sword in front of him. It was different from his katana and the other two weapons were short swords that were rather broad with a thicker end to carry weight. ¡°What is your name?¡±

    The old man smiled. ¡°Eirin Khalrin. My father was a Lahn of the lands to the east of Khalduran.¡±

    Thasun nodded. ¡°This is Khalduran? We are further east than I thought.¡±

    Eirin frowned. ¡°You did not know where you are?¡±

    ¡°No. The Albae caught me in Sandrei. In Zenshin. That was about a year ago?¡± Thasun mused aloud. ¡°I¡¯m not sure, I woke up down here in the dungeons.¡±

    The old man looked at him with a sad look. ¡°The war against Zenshin¡­¡± He paused before he continued with hesitation.

    ¡°That¡­ that was six years ago.¡±