《Crimson》 Crimson - Chapter 1 The day the Crimson Cavalry once again took to the plains marked the end of the decade long war between the Cutren tribes and the Urcan overlords. The elite Cutren spearmen weren''t able to hold the Crimson King''s charge heralding the fall of the young Cutren empire. The Slaughter King of the Cutrens was slain and his lineage ended. Barely 50 years passed since the Crimson King led his cavalry to sweep aside any opposition and to usurp the Urcan crown. The dissenters spent many years to form the Cutren movement yet the fledgling state was crushed by the soldiers and the Urcans limitless runes. The defeat spelled a wave of terror as the climatic battle was the last hope for the many towns and villages that had risen against the tyrant. It took only a day for the city of Eblos to be burnt down. A grim prophecy of what was to come. The men were executed and the women enslaved. The rich velvet and silks of Eblos were ripped from dead hands as the Urcans revelled in their glory. The burning skies of Eblos was a beacon, guiding the messengers of Xuclea and Poslen as they rushed in an effort to be the first to lay down their arms and offer surrender to the Crimson King. And thus started the fiercest era in the contest for the crown of the continent of Rustren. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ 10 years later Oslem was a wealthy town situated at the border of Urcan lands and the lands of the Sheoqua. To the west was the rolling mountains of Xuclea and to the east was the neverending desert of the Sheoqua Sultanate. It was the town''s unique location that contributed the most to the settlements thriving economy as to the south lay the Boorish Desolate. An enormous and bountiful land filled with countless opportunities and grave danger. The wasteland was home to the desolate beasts, mindless monsters born of the demonic rifts. Their bodies were essential materials for the crafting and the study of runic inscriptions. As the furthest frontier that humans had established in the wasteland, Oslem was a hotbed of mercenary and military activity, jointly managed by the Sheoqua capital, Shariz, to the east and Xuclea to the west. ¡°Get up! Again!¡± Toale had heard this shout so many times that his movement was almost instinctive. He quickly rolled, avoiding a heavy blow. Jumping to his feet he glared at the man before him. Graveth wasn''t a tall man, neither was he stocky. With a thin wiry build and a scarred face, it was obvious that he was no stranger to violence. Today he''s face was further marred with a frown. His displeasure showing as he rained down blows that could incapacitate the young man in front of him if and when they connected. If I knew that the old bastard would flip out so much I would''ve waited to sneak off again. Toale was sandy haired muscular youth. His dark eyes and pale skins reminiscent of the Cutren tribes while his muscular physique illustrated the hours that he had been forced to endure harsh physical training. Graveth was his uncle, and also the leader of a mercenary group that made frequent forays into the unknown. This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there. He¡¯s also a bastard that looks happier giving me a beating than visiting the brothel. Cursing, Toale limped back to his shack while nursing his wounds. Today''s ¡®spar¡¯ was even more ruthless than usual and Toale could feel the pain as if there were countless daggers pricking him. Despite his condition a bright gleam could be spotted in his eyes as he thought of the coming day. Tomorrow would be his sixteenth birthday as well as his Runic Awakening. It was also the day that a child was considered an adult and traditionally could make his own choices. He grinned as he thought of all the mischief that he would create in town when his uncle could no longer force him to remain in the mercenary band. Toale didn¡¯t doubt that Graveth would try to interfere, but his traditional and stiff ways made it so that he would not take any action further than tacit disapproval. Runic awakening was a ritual that all 16 year olds went through. The awakening was used to consolidate the blood of the youth and create an ancestral rune. The rune in question would be the innate rune of the bearer and would gift strength and abilities that dwelled within the person''s bloodline. There were three types of runes. Inherited, mutated and acquired. Inherited was those that were passed down a particular bloodline. This was common among much of the continent''s populace. Mutated was much much rarer and could theoretically occur to anyone . However, the chances of a successful mutation happening was so miniscule that many aspiring men could only dream of it. The strength one could be obtained from a mutated rune was far stranger and much more powerful. As for acquired, there was only a single acquirable rune in existence. The rune of the king, the king of Rustren. The bloodsoaked rune that had borne witness to countless deaths and endless seas of blood since the demise of the last Emperor of Rustren. These runes were then split into 3 major groups. Body enhancement, mage and support. Body enhancement directly affected the body of the bearer and could lead to powerful abilities such as draconic transformations or useless ones such as an increased sensitivity to pain. Toale shuddered as he remembered the tortured look on that man''s face after he had killed himself merely months after his awakening - an example of a bad mutation. Mage runes allowed the bearer to interact with nature itself. Borrowing the forces of the world to rain down destruction. These runes usually had an elemental affinity and an aptitude for magic. The higher the aptitude the more potential and strength. Support runes were more mystical and mysterious. These runes usually worked with the mind and were sought after for traits such as hypnosis and telepathy. Thinking of his uncles Iron Wolf physique, Toale sighed as he realized that he would most likely get a body enhancement rune due to his lineage. It wasn''t bad, but the might of a mage''s spells were not only flashy but peerless at destruction. Mages were also the only group capable of having the mental prowess to forge Runic Artifacts. Objects infused with the essence of a desolate beast using many materials and well guarded runic knowledge. Sighing, Toale lay down grimacing in pain as his cuts brushed against the coarse fabric of his bed. In any case, he would find out tomorrow. Crimson - Chapter 2 Woken by the harsh sunlight as it filtered through the cracks in between the wooden slats, Toale groaned with pain as his stiff and sore body flinched from the glaring light. He lay there for a while, contemplating the wisdom of his previous actions and the chances of his tardiness leading to another heavy handed training session. Deciding not to tempt fate and also driven by hunger and curiosity for his awakening, Toale rose unsteadily before stumbling to the wash basin. The cold bowl of water was filled with stale water, having been here for many hours. Too lazy to replace the water, he simply plunged his face into the bowl, before withdrawing amidst short gasps. The shock of the cold water cleared his clouded mind, refreshing him. ¡°Haha, first time I¡¯ve seen a guy going to his awakening with a black eye.¡± The loud unrestrained laughter didn¡¯t help his current mood neither did the face that appeared along with it. Glaring at the youth who had appeared, Toale sighed with a little jealousy. In contrast to his lithe and ¡®scrawny¡¯ body, his best friend was built like a bear. Thick muscled arms, tall and wide frame and sturdy legs complemented his rather square face. He gave the impression of a simple and honest youth. Though this couldn''t be further from the truth as Toale was clear that anyone who dared to underestimate Bryans intelligence was in for a surprise. The fatal kind. ¡°Did you come all the way here just to gloat?¡± he said as he pushed past Bryan while snatching the hunk of bread in his hands. ¡°Boss is looking for you. He said that you better hurry up else there won''t be time for the rituals before the awakening.¡± smirking Bryan strolled after Toale, ¡°Don¡¯t worry. I¡¯m sure Talia will give you a second look once you¡¯ve got your rune.¡± Grimacing, Toale gave Bryan a threatening glance before walking off. He had been more than Bryan''s match a month ago, but following the large youths awakening he had simply added to an ever growing list of defeats at his hands - it didn¡¯t look good in front of his long time crush. As he walked through the camp, Toale cast a furtive eye over his surroundings. A ramshackle collection of wooden shacks located a few miles from Jamiche, it was temporary camp that the mercenaries used on their few returns. The camp was still filled with the bustle of breakfast with many men milling around campfires, groaning and cursing as they nursed their heads. If hangovers are such a pain, then why drink? It seems why someone likes that disgusting swill is beyond me. Nodding at the many greetings coming his way, Toale quickened his pace. He was already late and the last thing he wanted was to be caught up for a conversation. While the scarred, rough and rugged men might look and act like bandits, they far more good natured. A by product from constantly living at the edge. Take every day as it comes, is it¡­ Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator. Before long Toale had reached the middle of the camp grounds. Here it was easy to see the difference in both the armour and equipment of the surrounding men as well as the conditions of the nearby building. A clear contrast to the surroundings. Appearances must be maintained for visitors after all. ¡°Toale, over here!¡± waving to catch his attention, the quartermaster and part time priest of the Silver Moon Mercenaries called out. Like many of the surrounding men he was well built and his face radiated a healthy glow. Unlike his peers however, his bare body and bald head were tattooed with many mystical runes and patterns. These joined together to form complex images, spirals and hypnotic patterns. ¡°Uncle Sheart, sorry for being late.¡± Toale said as he made his way to the priest. ¡°I¡¯m not too late for the ritual¡¯s am I?¡± ¡°Rituals? You better hurry up. Your uncle''s been waiting since dawn broke.¡± The rituals in question was to stimulate a person''s blood and yield greater results in the ceremony. It was a crucial step towards awakening as it determined the amount of blood that would form the rune and the strength provided. Walking into the central building, Toale spotted his uncle at the head seat. The rest of the interior was devoid of furniture aside from an ornate bowl. Following him came Sheart. Avoiding Graveth¡¯s glare, Toale stood awkwardly in front of the bowl. Glancing at the silent Graveth, Sheart spoke, ¡°As you know, awakening consists of three steps. Blood Letting, Blood Forming and Blood Consuming. Blood Letting to release your blood. Blood Forming to form your rune and Blood Consuming to integrate it.¡± ¡°We¡¯ll start with the rituals. Perform your Dance to honour your ancestors and then start the ceremony.¡± Dances where actions and forms that stimulated the blood. After awakening this would allow one to temper their runes, removing impurities and increasing effectiveness. During the awakening, higher quality Dances resulted in better quality blood being let at higher quantities. Quite anticlimactic. I was expecting more but this is quite straightforward. In fact Toale wasn¡¯t wrong. Many institutions such as the Church of the Twelve or the many kingdoms for that matter over dramaticized awakenings in order to create a sense of belonging to their associations. This was in the hope of planting a seed of loyalty in the awakened mind through ritualistic practises such as reading of scriptures. A lengthy process. Sheart took out an incense holder which held a single stick. A strong hallucinogenic and pain killer that assisted in the Dance. Taking a deep breath, Toale calmed his mind entering into a trance. Crimson - Chapter 3 Blood Demon¡¯s Crazed March. His Dance. A Dance that he had long practiced. The mnemonics filling his mind, continuous chanting drowning his senses. Like he had done every day for the past 10 years he slipped away into his own world. With his eyes closed, his view turned crimson, the colour of blood. Sinking slowly into the crimson depths, all distractions falling away, Toale entered into an ethereal state. Rage, Slaughter, Blood and Destruction. The memories of the Hunts, the memories of the crazed killings he had witnessed, the memories of the blood that had been spilled surfaced. They flashed by, repeating with increasing frequency, each revolution causing his breathing to become more and more ragged. As he sunk into this abyss of death his body started swaying. Faster and faster, matching the rhythm of his memories. His heart pumped harder, and with each circulation his body felt as if it was burning. It was euphoric, the feeling of rage of unrestrained slaughter of killing and moving unfettered. As he entered this berserk state his body started following the forms of the Dance. The pace ever quickening. Watching the youth before him, Sheart sighed with amazement. He had seen many going through their awakenings as a priest and had watched many Dances. These inherited forms were secret and priests had to be trustworthy in order to be allowed to witness them. However, compared to others this Dance before him was awe inspiring, even to an experienced person like him. Savagery and brutality where ingrained within the movements. Filled with a power and ferocity as if seeking to rip apart the world around him. Yet as the muscled body swayed in front of him, it was filled with a wild and majestic beauty; indomitable arrogance. Sensing the Dance reaching the climax, Sheart drew out a strange long handled awl. The awl was hollow, with a tunnel forming from its tip to the pommel. It was covered in mystical patterns that radiated a sense of power - a runic artifact. As he grasped the hilt the runes on the weapon synergized with his tatoos lighting up as a blood red rune formed in front of him. The rune danced through the air as if it contained intelligence before slowly landing on the hilt of the awl. In response the carvings on the weapon wriggled, as if alive, and like baby snakes they moved to surround and isolate the addition, feeding off its power. Stepping forward, Sheart thrust the point, accurately piercing Toales¡¯ heart. Entranced in the dance and under the influence of the pain killing incense, Toale continued the Dance, none the wiser, the forms stimulating his heart to pump blood faster. Seeing his blow had landed, Sheart reached for the ornate bowl, using it to catch the blood that continuously dripped through the tunnel in the artifact. The crimson drops fell without end, the heart''s blood accumulating in the bowl maintaining a crystalline appearance. If held still it would pass as a flawless and priceless gem or the most exquisite of wines. Indeed there were many who did consume heart''s blood and considered it a delicacy. As his blood was pushed out by the incessant pumping of his heart, Toales face gradually grew paler and paler, his Dance no longer filled with grace but a stuttering frailness. His forms no longer forceful but listless as his body weakened from the loss of blood. ¡°Thats enough.¡± seeing the situation, Sheart tapped the rune on the awls hilt activating it. The rune suddenly exploded with an extraordinary splendor, lighting the carvings on the awl up in response. The patterns started pulsing, wormlike in appearance, they consumed the power of the rune, transferring its healing prowess through the hilt to Toales heart. As the awl was slowly withdrawn, Toales heart and injured chest mystically closed up, leaving only a pale star shaped scar as the only reminder that there ever was a wound. Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings. Breaking out of the trance abruptly, Toale looked around for a moment in confusion. The incense had caused him to lose his sense of self and sink into carnage and the abrupt exit had confused him. Almost tripping over, Toale searched for balance, filled with surprise with his bodies weakness. It was at this moment that he caught sight of the ornate bowl before him, filled to the brim with a thick viscous liquid. Crimson and bright, the blood seemed as if it was alive with a glow that brimmed with vitality. It took only a moment for Toale to recall that this was the results of Blood Letting. Sparing a glance for the awl in Shearts¡¯ hand, Toale grasped the sides of the ornate bowl as he focused. He watched with unguarded interest as Sheart took the awl and used it to slice his own palm. The blood that dripped hovered in the air forming a globe. The blood started moving in a predetermined pattern, following the directions given by Sheart¡¯s chanting. As it moved the sphere of blood grew smaller in volume, a trail being left behind its path. The resulting mystical diagram formed from the bloody trail of the blood globe sparkled with a magical luster before falling into the bowl held in Toales hands. The presence of the bloody array provoked a violent reaction from the originally inanimate bowl of hearts blood. The blood burst into a crimson flame. It burned furiously as it fought against the magical array. The violent reaction caused Shearts brows to furrow as beads of sweat permeated his skin, giving his body an oily sheen. He had never seen such a reaction. The purpose of the array was to wake the bloods innate form, to cause it to form into the shape that most suited it, the shape that had been engraved into its blood memory. Yet the blood in the bowl had burst into flames before even being touched by the magical symbol. As the blood burned it gave rise to a black smoke. Strangely the smoke seemed as if it was greasy and let off a the scent of sewage and faeces. Faced with this, Sheart¡¯s face twisted in unprecedented surprise. His blood is burning off impurities? It¡¯s impossible, only Dances are capable of doing so! Faced with this situation, Sheart withdrew blood array as he watched in fascination. Despite having lost the provocation of the array, the blood in the bowl continuously fell in volume, its colour deepening without end and its luster growing ever prominent. Eventually, the black smoke ended. The remaining blood compressed upon itself. No longer was it liquid or viscous but took upon the form of precious jade. The rapidly hardening blood twisted and danced in mid air as it spun continuously. What appeared was a Bloody Sun. The rune was circular and flat, around its edges where wavey spikes that moved hypnotically, radiating a sense of power that caused the viewer''s blood to boil. The 10 wavey spikes! A Bloody Sun! As it silently burned midair, the wide eyed stares of Graveth, Sheart and Toale remained glued upon it. Crimson - Chapter 4 He truly is that man''s son. A Rune forever etched in Graveths memory. The Bloody Sun that had sunk in blazing glory had once again been born. My Lord, I have not failed you. Your bloodline has truly been inherited. Graveths eyes were clouded over with sentimentality, if his mentality was any weaker he might have wept for the second time since adulthood. However, as someone who led the Silver Moon and experienced horrifying wars, it took only a moment for him to regain his clarity. ¡°Hurry and integrate it.¡± Graveths husky voice, seemingly cracked and weighed with tiredness broke the silence. ¡°Now is the easiest part. Call out to the Rune, guide it and brand it upon your body. I would advise you to choose a body part that won''t be easily lost, not unless you want to lose your rune with it.¡± Sheart too was tired from the exertion. Sparing only a single moment to continue admiring the jade like piece, Toale removed his coarse tunic before beckoning the Rune towards him. Though he had just awakened, he knew from others that a Rune could be mentally commanded, as one would their arms or legs. Despite this the feeling itself was disconcerting, as if moving a disembodied limb, instinctive yet foreign. His control still crude, he mentally commanded the Rune to navigate itself before landing lightly over his heart, the centre of the rune falling where the star shaped scar had appeared. At first there was no discomfort, the experience of a disembodied limb faded as the rune integrated with his body. But Toale didn''t dare to let his guard down as he knew that to Consume a rune was not so simple. He was right. The following was an unimaginable pain. It was as if being branded by a red hot iron both inside and out. The wound that had recently healed was blasted open, the newly grown tissue torn apart and burnt by the burning blood. The flesh around this wound was burnt black bringing waves upon waves of mind numbing pain. The true face of Blood Consuming wasn''t a person consuming a Rune but a Rune consuming a person - forming a bond with the body and feeding off the blood, strengthening itself. It could be placed anywhere, forming a bond at any place, yet the connection was the greatest at the heart as this was the nexus of the circulatory system, granting the greatest benefits for Body Enhancers. It was widely acknowledged that the heart nourishes blood and the brain nourished the soul - thus mages branded their temples while warriors focused upon their heart. Sheart and Graveth watched impassively at the writhing body that thrashed on the floor. The hoarse screams falling upon deaf ears. It was a common sight, warriors branding their heart despite the difficulty and it was a widely encouraged norm. This was because the Runes would never cause irreversible harm to their bearers intentionally if they were not defects. This also meant that for a single moment of pain, of the body being reforged, was the price to pay for a lifetime of potential. Who would be foolish enough to give up such an opportunity? Besides, the pain was at such an intensity that many warriors or mages passed out thus not enduring the majority of the torture. Toale too passed out, he may have a strong body and mind tempered through years of arduous (and forced) training but he was still young and weak, not expecting the magnitude or intensity of the distress. Eventually his body stopped twitching and though it spasmed frequently, this too died down with the heat and feeling of power that emanated from his chest. Unauthorized use: this story is on Amazon without permission from the author. Report any sightings. ¡°Have him tended and see to it that he has rest.¡± Graveth turned to leave, his face bearing an unintelligible expression. Pausing for a moment, he continued, ¡°Inform the band, we leave tomorrow at dawn.¡± Sheart glanced quizzically as his superior before returning his gaze to the body lying prone on the ground. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ Alayen Lain was a high noble and confidant of the Urcan King. As a companion who had journeyed with him through countless battlefields in their youth, he was viewed by the Urcan King with extreme importance and unshakeable trust - one of the very few. At this moment however, he had none of his usual demeanor, his flustered appearance raising questions in the minds of the servants that surrounded him. ¡°Hurry! Send a message to his Lord.¡± Sighting the Palace Steward, Alayen moved quickly towards him. ¡°Inform him, he must return to Silverhill at once!¡± Seeing the Lord''s¡¯ disturbed expression, the Steward didn¡¯t dare to tarry. If he couldn''t tell that something major had occurred then wouldn''t the years he had spent as the most powerful servant in the Empire have been in vain? Calming down after sending off his order, Alayen regained his usual infallible demeanor. Truthfully, among all the Crimson King''s companions, he was the most level headed, neither torture nor emotions could shake his mind, his strategies and tactics brilliant to behold, praised as being birthed from the brains of the Gods themselves. Yet there was only one thing that could bring him to his knees in fear - A Bloody Sun. A Bloody Sun that had just lit up, struggling against its restraints, attempting to escape to the south. A Bloody Sun bound for eternity upon one of the Divine Treasures, the legacy and seat of the Urcan Kings - the Runic artifact, Throne of Graves. How is it possible for that Rune to react? I''m certain that all of them were executed. He shivered as he remembered the words that haunted him. Birthed from the Bloody Sun Ten Blades to Slay Nirvana Forevermore Shackled Damned, an Eternity! Crimson - Chapter 5 If what He said about the Throne of Graves is true, then we need to hurry and leave. After returning to his quarters, Graveth pondered over his next move. He had already know about the date of Toales awakening so he had prepared in advance to move under the guise of a Hunt. The required provisions had long been stocked up and the mercenaries had been given the previous night off to enjoy themselves. The drunkards. They took him along as well, no sense of responsibility as his elders. He smirked as he thought of Toales expression after yesterday''s spar. He reached towards the candle stub on the table and lit it, a silver flame appearing at his fingertips. Maybe I was too heavy handed¡­ His mood turning, he took a seat as he stared at the flickering candle flame. We should leave for Shariz, the pass at Knyg is sure to be blockaded and Imperial soldiers will flood the South to locate the Bloody Sun. The only option is through the Desolate. The dim lighting in his residence cast a long shadow over his face, the lines and wrinkles becoming even more prominent giving the impression of a tired and world weary soldier. My Lord, it seems that his fate will not be easy. Graveth gathered his thoughts as he rose from his seat, the tiredness disappearing like smoke as his expression sharpened, his eyes gleaming with a fierce light. His presence exuded a fierce pressure and his demeanor was authoritative and noble. His steps filled with confidence as he strode out of the room. Behind him the candle lit up even brighter, blazing for the last time before sputtering out - the room conquered by shadows. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ Toale woke up, his head felt as if they had been stomped by a Dream Eater, his chest not faring any better. Hopefully waking to pain won¡¯t become a trend. Toale shuddered as he thought of the pain earlier in the day, hurriedly moving his thoughts elsewhere, the mere thought of it bringing back a bone aching torturous pain to his already bruised and battered body. The sun, at its apex, told him that it had only been a few hours since the rituals. The memories, unforgettable, rushing into him filling him with excitement. Brimming with anticipation, he lifted his shirt to stare at the mark upon his chest. It''s a bit hard to see at this angle¡­ The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement. Struggling from under the covers, he walked towards a bowl filled with water, this time refreshingly clean. Damn. Its not reflecting properly. The discovery disappointed him, the prospect of moving his battered body through the camp to find a mirror fanning his unhappiness. Concerned about the lack of change he felt in his body, Toale decided to go find his uncle or Sheart. The excitement and anticipation refusing to simmer down and he, a slave to these emotions, could only force himself out and towards the camp centre. The view that met him caused surprise. Men crawled over the rapidly shrinking camp like worker ants. Their movements and actions fluid and polished by years of experience. It was a common sight but an unexpected one. Whats going on? We¡¯re leaving? Feeling slightly depressed, he moved quickly through the mercenaries towards his Uncle''s residence. The distance not far from the healer''s tent where he woke up. Unfortunately it seemed that he had missed him, with only a few of the central figures remaining in the central area to coordinate the camps preparations. Unwilling to disturb them, Toale left to look for Bryan. Bryan was assisting in packing items into the few wagons that were owned by the company. While hunters usually carried their own items, when a company as large as the Silver Moon moved,they require transportation for larger implements as well as a method to carry their game - some carcassess taking an entire wagon. ¡°Bryan, have you seen my uncle?¡± ¡°He went into town, dunno what for.¡± Bryan grunted, lifting a huge coil of rope. Toale too reached to pick up another coil of rope. He quickly chose a smaller coil, not intending to compete in strength. Surprisingly, the rope was not as heavy as it looked. The muscles in his body tightening, yet not strained, able to comfortably support the weight of the coil. This, is this the benefits of Body Enhancing Runes? He hadn''t even used his Dance yet to strengthen his Rune yet his body''s strength had already increased explosively. The change small, yet exhilarating. ¡°Bryan, you want to spar after this.¡± Toale turned to his friend with a mischievous glint in his eyes. You''ve beaten me the past few months. It''s time for revenge. ¡°You just awakened and you think you''re my match? Haha, 3 silvers if you win.¡± Bryan laughed with confidence. Crimson - Chapter 6 In the middle of a crowd there were two silhouettes, the impact of their collisions sending reverberations throughout the area. Of the two, one was clad in a slight crimson glow, a runic character upon his chest flickering at the moment of impact, responding instinctively to its bearers will. The other was built like a bear, his runic character floating above, sending waves of pressure forcing everything under its influence to have difficulty moving, as if mired in a swamp. Toale advanced at as fast as he could, the strengthening of his rune mitigated by Bryans technique. However, his speed was still faster than normal. Gripping his fist tightly, he ducked under Bryan''s blow, spinning in an attempt to flank him. His elbow covered in blood red light as it crashed towards Bryans body. If the hit connected, despite Bryan''s endurance as a Runic warrior, he would still expect to have his ribs broken. But it''s not going to be this easy. Of all his peers, Bryan was the only one who''s naturally endowed talents and training could match Toale. Gifted with a sturdy physique and nimble mind, he was further blessed with a mutated Rune. Sky¡¯s Weight, he called it. Sure enough, as he saw Toales elbow striking towards his ribs, he immediately lowered the pressure emitted by his runes while simultaneously pulling his left arm into a blocking motion. The dispersed pressure affected Toales balance, causing him to slightly stumble. His elbow strike that was originally resisting the extra gravitational force as it flashed horizontally was now angled upwards. Bryans forearm rose to meet it and at the same instant both his feet left the ground. Rather than meet Toales body head on, he rebounded against the force to escape. Shit. This is going nowhere. In fact, Toale was stronger in close combat, his techniques varied and his body able to withstand Sky¡¯s Weight while simultaneously raising his strength and agility above Bryans. As they were both close combat fighters, this gave him a deadly edge. However, the randomly varying gravity that threw off his balance and aim not only foiled his attacks but created opportunities for Bryan''s counterattacks. The result was a deadly dance where a single blow could end it all. ¡°Haha, look at them go.¡± ¡°Go for it Bryan, my moneys riding on you.¡± ¡°You fool, Toales the captain''s nephew, obviously he¡¯ll win.¡± Encouraged by the crowds cheers, both of them felt their blood roil. Toale felt light headed from the excitement and fierce battle. However, without realizing it his heart started pumping slower. The rapid beats replaced by deep sonorous pumps that forced blood to circulate. Filled with battle lust, Toale felt his eyesight dim, covered with a veil of crimson. Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author. KILL!! His stances forgotten, Toale charged forward, disregarding the increased gravity. His body was pressed close to the ground as he speared forth with an even faster speed - a crimson trail left by the extreme velocity. Reaching Bryan, he was met with a kick that sweeped towards his hips. Toales right foot pointed inwards as he stopped his charge instantly, his muscles straining from the sudden movement. His body faced towards the incoming leg with his right pointed towards Bryan''s chest. Raising one arm to block the kick with a clawed hand, his other hand took the form of a spear as it aimed for Bryan''s chest like a poisonous snake. Faced with such a situation, Bryan didn''t even have the time to control his rune as he crossed his arms in front of him, protecting his vitals. It was at this moment the kick connected, Toales bones making a creaking sound as they were met with the fierce blow. Though Bryan had a mutated support rune, all Runic Warriors had the aptitude to enhance their bodies, with Body Enhancing Runes having the greatest talent. Blood flew as Toales spear hand connected with Bryan''s crossed arms, his skin splitting before the crimson glow. Before the hand could move further, the impact of Bryan''s kick lifted Toales body into the air, throwing him away - Toales hand dyed in crimson as the impact caused him to gouge through Bryans forearm horizontally. ¡°Hey. That''s enough. There''s no need to go that far you two.¡± Bryan''s arm was bleeding and it was obvious that Toales left arm was hurt from the kick. Typically this was beyond the point at which the match would end. However, Toales mind was blinded with bloodlust, a savagery gnawed at his mind subduing his sanity. His view crimson as he glared at Bryan. The side effect of the Blood Demons Crazed March, a side effect that emerged only after awakening. Toales uncle had not mentioned this to him and as a result he was caught unawares, his mind easily conquered. Low guttural growls emerged from his throat, too low to hear as he once again charged, his speed reaching new heights. Blood Demons Crazed March, a Dance that harmed the body to kill the opponent eventually turning the warrior into a crazed demon. ¡°Someone stop them!¡± The spectators immediately surged forward. They were mercenaries that had long since awakened and each was strong enough to fight both Toale and Bryan together without losing ground. It was no surprise then when Bryan was restrained while Toale had to be pinned down. ¡°Whats going on!¡± an authoritative voice silenced the throng of mercenaries. The voice causing Toale to break out of his trance, immediately shouting as his body was assaulted by waves of pain. Crimson - Chapter 7 ¡°Boss, it''s like this¡­¡± Hearing the explanation, Graveths expression darkened before angrily ordering. ¡°Get back to work! You! Take Bryan to the infirmary. Sheart, bring Toale and come with me.¡± I didn''t expect this to happen. I suppose it is my fault for not keeping an eye on him or informing him of the side effects. Seems like we need to have a chat. ¡°Sheart, make him quieten down.¡± Graveth said irritably, the constant whimpers getting on his nerves. Sheart smiled wryly before activating his rune, a blood red light covering Toale as his consciousness slipped away, his body rapidly healing. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ Tavak cursed as he stared at the never ending mountain peaks. The ancient monoliths whose resplendent peaks pierced the skies seemed to become more and more maddening. Damn these blasted mountains. We¡¯re cavalry for God¡¯s sake not mountain goats. They had been the most mobile unit stationed to the north of Xuclea. They had spent the past few weeks accumulating experience and training in the mountains, using the steef cliffs and rugged paths to improve each individual''s coordination with their mounts. An idea of his own that worked brilliantly. Tavak turned to view his contingent, pride welling up as he looked upon the column of men. Their armour was so polished that the dust and dirt of travel was unable to make a mark upon them. Their well ordered ranks, representative of their elite training and discipline, was so in sync that they seemed to be a single creature. As they advanced they could be mistooken for a serpentine dragon - their aura as dominating and fierce as one. Silver Dragon unit. An elite unit of the Urcan empire derived of the bravest and most loyal of the Silver Dragon army. An army that was under the iron tight control of the Silver Dragon family, whose fame and reputation was like the sun at noon. Tavak himself was considered the greatest military prodigy of the High Noble family, his achievements in monster subjugation, bandit suppression and raids on enemy empires coupled with his pure bloodline had easily netted him his position as the commander of the Silver Dragon elites. Of the younger generation, he was considered to have outstanding potential. But this command is quite strange. The Empire is going through so much trouble to find this person. To order the army to pursue all mercenary bands that enter the Desolate and slaughter them all just to locate the bearer of a Bloody Sun rune? Could this person be some kind of criminal or monster? Even Knyg has been blockaded by the local garrison. The mission this time was quite dangerous - and important as a support Rune bearer had been used to transmit the military order, hinting at the urgency. Unlike bandits or mindless monsters, the mercenaries were extremely hardy and experienced. Furthermore, they would be pursuing through the Desolate, the territory of Oslems warriors. If you encounter this narrative on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.Clearing his mind Tavak once again urged his warhorse forward. Regardless of the difficulty of the mission he had absolute confidence. Because he was Tavak Agave, Silver Spear of the Urcans. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ Toale woke with a start in a darkened room, his body aching once more. ¡°Don¡¯t move, you strained your body too much.¡± Graveths voice broke the silence. ¡°Uncle. What happened?¡± Graveth sighed. ¡°It''s my fault, I forgot to teach you about the side effects of using the Blood Demons Crazed March after awakening.¡± Toale raised himself up on his elbow as he stared at Graveth quizzically. ¡°Side effects? And also, I haven''t even used the Dance yet.¡± ¡°Blood Demons Crazed March is unlike other Dances. While others can only be used to temper a person''s runes or their blood, your dance can be used in battle. Rather, it turns the user into a monster who craves for blood and death. Its also the reason why The March only has mnemonics and no stances, its stances are based off the dancers slaughter intent.¡± Toale grimaced as he stared at Graveth. ¡°What the hell? It''s defective? No way I¡¯m going to use this damn thing again, I¡¯m too young to end up like Bjorn.¡± Graveth didn''t immediately reply as he gazed at Toale. ¡°It''s your choice whether you want to still use it or not.¡± ¡°Birthed from the Bloody Sun Ten Blades to Slay Nirvana Forevermore Shackled Damned, an Eternity. Bind Death Life, the chains Sacrificed to the Sun Damned, an Eternity.¡± Has he gone crazy? What''s he talking about? ¡°That verse is called Slaying Nirvana, make sure to memorize it.¡± Saying so, Graveth rise from his seat,pausing as he reached the door. ¡°Toale. I can¡¯t tell you everything now, there''s too little time, but everything will be revealed shortly.¡± Crimson - Chapter 8 At the break of dawn the mercenaries moved out. The ground dotted with miscellaneous items and burnt out campfires. The only indication that they had ever been there. Toale was walking in a daze, his mind filled with the events of the past day. ¡°Who are you thinking about?¡± a laughing voice brought him out of his reverie. Bryan jogged as he caught up with Toale. ¡°Nothing, hows your arm?¡± Toale said. ¡°Hmm, it''s just a flesh wound, it''ll heal in a couple of days. That last blow was awesome, how did you even do that?¡± Toale laughed awkwardly. What last blow? I wasn''t even awake for a last fucking blow. Attempting to change the subject, Toale asked, ¡°What do you think we¡¯ll hunt this time?¡± No way I¡¯m letting him know that I wasn¡¯t conscious when I beat him¡­ ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ ¡°Lord Agave, please come this way.¡± Tavak looked at disgust at the small man in front of him. Short, skinny and with shallow cheeks. He looked as if he hadn''t eaten in weeks. His sunken eyes, however, hid a vicious and cunning glow. Typical politician. Quickest way to get assassinated is to underestimate them. Controlling his disgust for the subservient man in front of him, Tavak interrupted the long stream of praises that endlessly spewed from the scrawny mans mouth. ¡°City Lord, I¡¯m sure you understand how grave this matter is. Forgive me for not accepting your invitation.¡± ¡°No problem My Lord. Haha, this one wishes to ask to what he owes this pleasure?¡± Spineless relic of the Cutrens. A shame on his ancestors. ¡°City Lord, I require information on all personnel who have left for the Desolate. As for Knyg, I am confident that there will be no problem in your hands.¡± ¡°Ah, yes, yes, My Lord. The Knyg pass has been blockaded and sensory runic bearers have been spread along the mountain range.¡± The reedy voice constantly provoking Tavak, the City Lords habit of rubbing his palms not helping his disgust. ¡°A decree has been issued imposing a ban on travel to the Desolate. However¡­¡± The City Lord hesitated. Love what you''re reading? Discover and support the author on the platform they originally published on. ¡°City Lord is there a problem?¡± ¡°Forgive me My Lord, it seems that this useless old man wasn''t fast enough with his actions. From yesterday morning till now, three bands have left for the Desolate.¡± The scrawny man submissively bowed his head causing Tavaks lips to further curl in revulsion. ¡°Claw Union, Blade Camp and Silver Moon mercenary band.¡± ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ The Desolate was a beautiful land. Filled to the brim with wildlife and all types of vegetation. The untouched land hid countless natural treasures. It was also a death trap for the inexperienced. The plains stretched endlessly to the west, with no records to any southern limit. The western Desolate was separated from the east by a treacherous mountain range, the same that split the Southern Urcan Empire and the Sheouqua Sultanate. The plains had no cover until the eaves of the Great Forest. The grass here was a deep and verdant green, overflowing with vitality. The vibrant colours painted a picture of paradise, a sea of green stalks, soft to the touch and sweet to the taste. Within this sea of tranquility hid terrifying dangers. Constantly mutating Desolate demons spewed out of demonic rifts, born from the evil energy deep within the earth. The enemy to all humankind. Oslem was acknowledged to be the settlement furthest into the wild lands, but they were not the furthest people. There were countless nomadic tribes that journeyed through the Desolate, their unique culture giving birth to terrifying warriors. There movements difficult to track and any military action against them by their northern neighbours had ended with disaster. Countless days being plagued by beasts, poisonous plants, raided by men that melted into the darkness had a funny way of destroying morale. For the mercenaries of Oslem, this was truth of their life. Out of all the northerners, they had the most contact with the nomads, constantly trading for information, survival techniques and valuable goods. Graveth set course for one of the local tribes. The periphery of the Desolate was not dangerous to the Silver Moon, but his planned path dug deep into the demonic beasts territory. To enter without a guide was mere folly. ¡°Sheart, order the men to move faster. We have no time.¡± Graveth said. By his estimate, Knyg would have been blockaded by now and pursuers informed. However, there were no suitable regiments stationed locally capable of braving the Desolate and reaching them in such a short time. Call it a soldier''s intuition, but he felt the need to cover as much distance as possible. A cacophony of shouts indicated his orders being passed on as the speed of the company increased. Graveth resolutely forged ahead. Crimson - Chapter 9 The tall figure scrutinized the camp before him. His smartly dressed figure cut sharply against the dim light of the moon. His immaculate suit was reminiscent of a butler. Despite his position as a manservant, the veterans of the Silver Dragon unit bowed their head defferentially in his presence. In his hands was a runic artifact, a spyglass that was imbued with the ability to magnify distant objects as well as the ability to see in the dark. Snapping the artifact shut, he turned to the young man beside him. His voice, smooth and velvety yet strangely stern. ¡°Young Lord, the banner they fly belongs to the Blade camp. I approximate the number of combatants to be 80.¡± They had set off after obtaining information on their quarry as well as an experienced tracker. The fluid preparations causing Tavak to grudgingly admire the City Lord of Xuclea. He was a competent man despite his character. Before Tavak lay a beautifully lit camp. A beacon in the darkness. The torches and sentries merely serving as advertisement giving away their location to predators. The camp was sparsely defended, the number of sentries numbering a mere 10. 1 to the north, 2 to the west and east and 5 to the south, facing the desolate. Tavak smirked. ¡°Niles, it seems that they are not our prey. Though we still need to check.¡± ¡°Young Lord, what makes you think that they are not the enemy?¡± Tavak smiled with confidence. ¡°The first reason is the number of sentries. The location they are camped at is merely a day into the desolate, 3 hours by our units standard. They are experienced and thus know that beasts in this area are few and far between. Most likely hunted harshly. Thus they made the decision to place only 10 sentries. In other words, they do not expect danger in these parts.¡± Tavak continued, ¡°Military law commands the placement of sentries at equal distance around the entire perimeter. This is done under the assumption that enemies could attack from anywhere at any time. Disregarding this is punishable by death. Mercenary rules are far more lax and unenforced. Thus their placement can indicate the direction they are most concerned about. The south, the region occupied by beasts. Thus the placement of the sentries is the second reason.¡± ¡°Thirdly, the amount of ground they have covered is pitiful. They left from their camps outside the city, while we left from Xuclea itself while spending the time to track them down. They are clearly not hurried and are taking their time. Who would tarry when they face the edge of a blade?¡± Niles simply chuckled. ¡°Young Lord is correct. But there are a few things you missed. For example, the enemy may be competent, setting only a few sentries in a preordained pattern to catch us off guard. In this way he may cause us to leave or to charge in unprepared for an ambush.¡± Niles continued his lecture, ¡°Or for example, the criminal may not even have knowledge of our pursuing him. In which case the enemy would not be cautious and act as he would any other day. If we don''t consider this possibility we may leave here and have let the enemy escape. Haha, both he and us will be none the wiser.¡± This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere. ¡°Or for example, the enemy may not be the leader of the Mercenary band or even be a person that can make decisions for their pace. They may just be a regular hired sword. In this case their movement speed does not represent the will of the enemy.¡± His voice stern, ¡°Or for example, the enemy may hope that the pursuer merely enters the camp and leaves after checking the inhabitants runes. This is the course that you would have chosen.¡± Tavak frowned, ¡°The telepathic went to great lengths to transmit the appearance of the rune. As long as we have them activate it, then any synthetic methods to hide its appearance will be useless.¡± Niles replied sharply, ¡°Young Lord, just because you don''t know of a method to change the appearance of a rune without resorting to dyes and to an extent that it remains camouflaged during use does not mean such a method doesn''t exist. In fact there are countless techniques to do so. Utilized mainly by assassins for obvious reason.¡± ¡°Young Lord must also have desired to only check those of age. Young Lord must not forget that there are geniuses that form their rune before 16 and those that lack talent, forced to bear till a later date.¡± Tavaks brows were now furrowed in thought. Niles smiled before carrying on, ¡°Young Lord, this mission is different yet similar to destroying enemy armies or units. It is the capture or killing of an individual. In this matter, Young Lord does not have too much experience. In fact Young Lord is thinking too much.¡± Tavak looked at Niles with surprise. This man had raised him and ingrained countless tactics, strategies and a unique view towards matters into him since he was a child. Rarely was he told that he was overthinking a problem - in fact most times he was forced to approach a dilemma from multiple perspectives. ¡°Young Lord, the mercenaries have neither military power or political might.¡± Tavak laughed in realization, ¡°That''s right, the matter of discovering the criminal was so simple.¡± Turning he strode towards where his unit waited patiently. Their polished armour carrying a slight glint, their postures as straight and unyielding as a spear. Numbering 500, their training was evident in their silence, their patience and dedication to orders. His tone no longer had the bearing of a student. Now his voice was regal and majestic, his voice alone filled with a subtle strength causing the listeners to instinctively lower their heads. ¡°Kill. Men, women and children. Even the animals. KILL!¡± Crimson - Chapter 10 ¡°Concentrate!¡± Toale grimaced as he attempted to focus on his dance. Trepidation and wariness causing him to fail as feared going berserk. The thought of not being in control of his body was not pleasant and the constant reminder kept him from entering his trance. ¡°You¡¯ll have to come to terms with the side effects, otherwise you will never see anymore progress.¡± Toale flopped down onto the ground in defeat as he looked up at his stern uncle. He knew his uncle was correct, the Dance being the only way to remove impurities and further condense blood into his rune. But for such a useless effect. For it to only be something as lame as improving physical aspects. Morphing will do the same and to a better degree. Despondently thinking about his crushed dreams of being a mage, he heaved himself up and joined in breaking camp. A strong body and an unstable mind, if that''s not a recipe for disaster I don''t know what is. ¡°Toale!¡± The cheery call further dampened his mood. The image of Bryan''s bulk giving rise to waves of envy. No, not jealous. Just, why couldn''t it be me to get Sky¡¯s Weight? ¡°What?¡± His mood irritable. ¡°Olins leading a party out soon. They caught the track of a Shadow Lynx. We¡¯re invited.¡± laughed Bryan as he ambled over. Toale smiled, his friends happiness was infectious. A good hunt was the best remedy for his bad mood. ¡°Give me a second, I need my stuff.¡± Toale called back as he rushed off. Looking at the disappearing back, Bryan smiled. Looks like his back to his usual self. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ A Shadow Lynx was weaker during the day than night. Their natural camouflage, sharp vision in the dark made them adept at hunting in the twilight hours. Their stealth and cunning was well known, preferring a tactic of ambush or preying on the weak. Rarely did they take risky action. This particular Lynx must have been young, lack of experience causing it to come dangerously close to the camp at night and failure to hide its traces alerted the humans to its presence. The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident. Despite their cowardly tactics, the beasts themselves were not to be trifled with, 3 metres in length and 1.5 in height. Well toned muscles rippled under the luxurious dark fur. The soft paws hiding claws, bloodied sabres. The quarry in question was basking in the morning sun, its position brazenly displayed, its arrogance and pride as the local hegemon overshadowing any of its ancestral cautiousness. It lay on a smooth, weather beaten rock in a field of such of broken stone. The rocks differed in size, the highest reaching Toales shoulders. At this moment, Toale and a group of 15 men were hidden 300 metres away. The feline was definitely aware of their location. It did not register them as a threat. At most it would need to escape. ¡°Hehehe. Look at that fur. How much do you think it could be sold for?¡± ¡°At least 10 silver. More if it''s kept intact.¡± ¡°Good with this I¡¯ll have saved enough to move to Xuclea with the missus.¡± The one who spoke was Olin. his frame was large and sturdy, dwarfing even Bryan. He proudly bore scars typical of a mercenary, and despite his look, he was a devoted husband and father. ¡°When you do you need to take us out to drink.¡± One of his companions replied. Glaring at the other man Olin hissed, ¡°You think I have enough saved up to satisfy you pigs?¡± ¡°Olin you can''t treat a brother like that.¡± Their conversation may have been playful but they were all experienced. The time was spent surveying the geography of the surroundings. Planning possible avenues of attack and the placement of hunters that would lower the probability of escape. Olin disregarded his friend as he spoke seriously, ¡°Its young, grew up in the periphery that mercenaries have cleaned out. It''s most likely brash and will confront us.¡± ¡°Best course of action is to take it down in one strike. The terrain is advantageous in case it tries to escape. None of us are a match for it in speed.¡± Olin nodded as he tried to puzzle out a plan. His eyes travelled over his squad before alighting on Bryan. His craggy face broke into a grin as he chortled. ¡°How could I forget, we have Bryan. The cat can try to escape but with this kids rune, how fast can it be?¡± Everyone turned happily to Bryan, it seemed that this hunt wouldn''t be as difficult as they had thought. In the midst of this only one person''s expression was downcast. Crimson - Chapter 11 Olin rushed forward. His powerful muscles propelling him from a crouch to leap. In mid air a brown glow appeared above his chest, his body sprouting fur as his muscles bulked up. Cracking sounds emerged as his skeleton elongated, the bones and muscles becoming denser as they increased in size. His gums split as sharp canines forced their way out. The sudden transformation into a bear startled the Lynx, it barked threateningly as its fur bristled. It too sprung from a crouch into a leap headed directly towards Olin. It could not match Olin in destructive might, but its agility and flexibility was unparalleled. Twisting mid air, the Lynx seemed boneless, its body morphing into a flurry of shadows as it danced past Olin leaving trails of blood. The Lynx may have dangerous claws, but Olins defense was too great, the thickness of his fur and skin allowing only a flesh wound. It was at that time that a rune lit up in the sky, a crimson brilliance shining down as the Lynx suddenly felt the weight on its body increase explosively. ¡°Nice one!¡± Four hunters who has been waiting in position lept out in tandem. Each wielding their spears, their runes radiating from their chests. They had hoped that the Lynx would confront Olin midair and they relied on Bryan''s precise control to force it to land in the midst of four hunters. Four silver flashes pierced through the air, like poisonous snakes they followed their prey. The Lynx, despite having been ambushed so suddenly, instinctively rolled its body. Of the four strikes only one landed on the beast, tearing a gash along its abdomen. The giant creature hissed in pain, shadows rising along its body as they bound the wound. ¡°Bryan! Again!¡± Seeing the Lynx dance between the blows, Olin could only command the young man to restrict it once more. The brilliance once again appeared, drawing hisses of annoyance from the giant beast. Its silky smooth fur and flexible body mitigated most of the weight. The increase being distributed among four limbs further decreased the might of Sky¡¯s Weight. The miniscule effect at this point however, placed the Lynx into an even more dangerous position. Toale and 9 others had been stationed around the perimeter of the hunting zone. They were there to prevent the lynx from escaping or to trap it if it didn''t act as hoped. Their blood boiling, three of them charged forth, surrounding the hulking figure as they two bulked up, transforming into two dogs and a plant like humanoid. ¡°Roar!¡± Olin once more leapt towards the Lynx, using his massive frame to engage the creature and pin it down, threatening to crush its bones if provided with a single opportunity. Around him, 6 figures wildly stabbed with their spears, the seventh, the plant man''s hands elongated, as they sought to bind the beast. Toale stared fervently at the struggling beast, he too desired to be in the midst of the combat. His breathing grew ragged and unsteady, vision turning red as he unconsciously moved forward. It was at this moment the Lynx was met with Olins blow, his fist impacting the creature''s side. The sound created was akin to a drum, as ripples spread on the taught skin of the abdomen. The creature wailed pitifully as its innards were shredded, its organs mixed with blood as they flowed out of its throat. This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there. Shaking his head to clear his mind, Toale joined in with the cheers. The killing blow had been landed with a blunt blow, not breaking the skin. To the mercenaries who lived day by day on their rewards from the hunt, such a complete corpse would fetch a high price. The mercenaries surrounded Bryan and Olin as praises were heaped on them. Toale too joined them as he slapped his friend on the back in congratulations. The depression from his disappointing rune did not keep him from celebrating a successful hunt. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ ¡°Niles, is it possible that the criminal has set off on his own? Separating from his comrades to throw us off?¡± It was a question that had been bugging Tavak since the start, a question he had been unable to answer. The immaculate figure turned to view him, the wrinkled head framed by a head of hair, streaked with silver. The sharp eyes penetrating and clear. ¡°Young Lord, the City Lord has assured us that among these mercenaries, there are none capable of braving the Desolate on their own.¡± ¡°You have always taught me to entertain all possibilities, the chances of such an important criminal having a competent defender is low but not impossible.¡± Tavaks eyes were bright as he challenged his mentor. ¡°Thats right, but Young Lord, even if it is so, what can we do about it?¡± Niles chuckled in response. Tavak smiled wryly. They had been ordered to pursue without the time to gather suitable personnel or equipment. If they could have employed a sensory rune bearer, the issue of finding a small group that had split off would have been nonexistent. It was a pity they were a combat group and not an assassination unit. Even if they have the capability to brave the Desolate on their own, it''s not something we can stop. In any case, only the Silver Moon Mercenaries remain. Before him lay a field of mangled bodies. Many had been crushed and trampled beneath the hooves of his cavalry. The wagons bore evidence of flame, terrifying scars littering the woodwork. ¡°Sir! None of them bear the rune.¡± Tavak nodded to the officer, before turning his horse. Behind him a flag depicting a savage claw slowly drowned in a pool of blood. Crimson - Chapter 12 After the hunt, Toale and Bryan had rejoined the march. They had continued without incident apart from many small groups splitting off from time to time.Despite the hard march under the unforgiving sun, the men of the Silver Moon were full of vitality. Their strong bodies not affected. That evening after dinner, Toale took his leave and once again attempted to enter a trance, searching for his Dance. The image of the dying Lynx, of the smashed organs and the mournful cries haunted his consciousness, threatening to devour him. Shivering he broke out of it, cold sweat coursing down his body. He remained there, the temperature falling as dusk encroached upon the horizon. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ Graveth looked over the mercenary camp with. A hard to describe, complex emotion danced across his features. Turning to Sheart, he steadfastly said, ¡°Gather our men, we leave tonight. Bring Toale.¡± Turning back to the camp, it seemed as if he was trying to memorize the features of each and every mercenary, the 400 men and women that relaxed around the camp fires, full of cheer and goodwill. A hard glint in his eyes, he strode off. He knew, he could never be forgiven. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ ¡°Uncle Sheart.¡± Toale raised his head, breaking from his contemplation as he heard someone approach. ¡°Come with me.¡± Shearts voice was cold. No longer the same jovial priest that Toale remembered. Now he was strict and cold, his tone demanding obedience. Confused, Toale still rose to follow him. The expression on Shearts face causing his heart to plummet. Whats going on? Has a dangerous beast appeared? Not receiving an explanation, Toale was led to through the maze of tents. It didn''t take long for them to arrive at a clearing. Here stood 50. They stood straight and tall, their expressions fierce and domineering. Gone was the laidback laughter, the lazy lifestyle of mercenaries. These 50 men were the original members of the Silver Moon, the backbone that had given birth to a force of over 400 fighters. 50 men whose strength had caused the Silver Moon to be regarded highly in Oslem. Now they carried not the ruthlessness of a vagabond but the dignity of a soldier. ¡°Hurry up. Your equipment is over there.¡± Shearts voice was harsh and grating. It was obvious that he didn''t want to be questioned. If you encounter this tale on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. Faced with this, Toale had no option but to follow orders. Damnit. Whats up with these guys? I feel like Uncle Shearts going to rip me a new one if I even open my mouth. Quickly opening the bundle, Toale gasped in surprise. The items within, while simple in design almost caused his eyes to pop out. In the parcel there was a simple leather armour, composed of a breastplate, greaves, vambraces and gauntlets. What the hell? Ersus Serpent skin? A single piece costs a fortune! Ersus serpents were feared desolate beasts. They made their lairs deep within the wilderness and their skin was only obtainable from wandering nomads at an exorbitant price. Toale had seen a piece before, used as material for the sheath of a powerful runic warrior''s sword. Its ability to freely conduct runic energies made it invaluable. The armour was midnight black, dyed and treated. The grooves and patterns distinctive if the Ersus serpent seemed chaotic one moment and hypnotically beautiful the next. The breastplate was smooth and cool to the feel, the serpent''s skin had been utilized skillfully and treated by a master tanner. This resulted in the armour retaining the natural stretchiness as when the serpent was alive. The gauntlets were comfortable when worn, the exposed fingers designed to give better traction when gripping. It was the vambraces that caught his attention the most. Along the side were serrated hooks, the barbs dangerously sharp and carrying a deep murderous air. It was only after he had donned the armour that he noticed the item underneath. The darkness, partially illuminated by torches, had hidden the slender object. The sheath was made of a dark, smooth wood. The colour seemingly drinking in light. Toale hurriedly drew the blade, gripping the simple bone hilt. The beautiful blade made him involuntarily gasp. As the metre long blade reflected the dancing flames, it too seemed to mirror their movements, becoming fire itself. The blade was a product of expert smithing, a falchion produced by a master. As he held the weapon, gazing at the designs he inadvertently slashed through the air. The ease and the balance of the sword making him even more excited. The balance of the blade was so exquisite, it felt like an extension of his arms. ¡°Do you like it?¡± Toale started, he had been so engrossed in admiring the weapon that he didn''t notice Graveths arrival. ¡°This¡­¡± Toale was hesitant. He may be young but he knew the value of the items he held. Though they were not runic artifacts, there were many mercenaries from Oslem who would risk life and limb for them. ¡°Consider them a congratulatory gift for your awakening.¡± Seeing Toales expression, he explained. Looking at the items, Toales heart was full of gratitude as he looked at his uncle. Crimson - Chapter 13 ¡°Since you¡¯re ready, it''s time to leave.¡± ¡°Uncle, what''s happening?¡± Toale hurriedly called out. The situation was strange and suspicious. The Uncles are acting strangely so late at night, and the sudden gifts¡­ Graveth smiled warmly, ¡°We spotted some tracks when we set camp. Devan thinks they may be from a dangerous creature. I thought it was a good opportunity to see you fight.¡± Hearing this Toales eyes lit up with battle lust. ¡°Can I call Bryan over?¡± Graveths smile faltered. He turned to hide his expression as he replied, ¡°No need to disturb him.¡± Finishing, Graveth strode towards his men. Toale stared at his back. A hard glint flashed across his eyes before his sceptical expression melted away, as if it never existed. He had grown up among adults, many who sought the life of a mercenary to escape from the law. Oslem itself was a hotbed of thieves, swindlers and murderers. To be raised in such a situation had caused both orphans, Toale and Bryan, to be keen beyond their years. They had learnt how to control their expressions, to maintain a poker face in front of those gifted with the silver tongues. They had long learnt to notice the minute expressions on the faces of merchants or stall holders - those who would sell a rotten apple as if it was sculpted from gold with a straight face. Youthful innocence and naivety without the chance to bloom among the scum of society. His uncles suspicious activities, the sudden hunt at night and the expensive gifts. If he couldn''t notice that there was something was wrong then he couldn''t be a bigger fool. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ Tavak urged his warhorse forward. The night was breaking and his men were nearing the end of their endurance. They had spent the last few days on the move, the two battles, while not dangerous, were exhausting. The men eager to complete their massacre and rest. A few hundred this time. Considerably larger than the previous two. The sight was quite intimidating. The wagons had been placed at regular intervals around the camp. Torchlight indicating the multitude of sentries manning the perimeter. The exposed portions of the encampment had been fortified with large caltrops, vicious spikes that denied cavalry charges. ¡°Haha. Niles. It seems we¡¯ve found our prey.¡± The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident. Niles smiled in response. Caltrops, large number of sentries and wagons to defend. This was not a formation against beasts but man. Afterall, the effort in hauling or making caltrops every night as well as positioning them far outweighed any potential damage incurred by the desolate beasts. This was not the tactic of a mercenary hunting group but the encampment style of a military unit. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ Dike lay on his sleeping roll. His mood fluctuating as he waited apprehensively. They had waited 10 years, lying dormant as they awaited the young masters awakening. If he held his father''s blood then they would fight, if not, they would raise him as a commoner. Truth be told, many of them wished he wouldn''t inherit the Bloody Sun, their lives, while difficult, was still safe and fulfilling. Of the many who had been tasked with this, only 54 remained, the others passing during their frantic escape or from the hunts. Unable to sleep, Dike exited his tent. His countenance sorrowful as he walked among his friends and companions. It was his task, while the other 50 led the young master away, to oversee the camp. To improve its defences and wait for the destined assault. The cheer of the campfires that previously beckoned him were now distant and foreign. Only his resolute will and loyalty that had withstood ten years of waiting kept him from breaking down in sorrow. Without realizing Dike ended up at the outskirts of the camp, staring into the darkness, as if wishing to be swallowed, forgetting his inner turmoil. As he gazed into the abyssal darkness, he slowly regained his calm. We agreed to this 10 years ago! Now is not the time for sentimentality. As he prepared to return, a silvery glint caught his eye. A second glance revealing nothing. Haha. There''s no way. The enemies should take another one or two days to reach here. Despite his incredulity of the thought, Dike couldn''t help but activate his Rune, concentrating its powers to his eyes - a deep cyan glow appearing. Maybe it was because he had already accepted his fate, maybe because he could no longer bear the pain of betrayal, but the sight that met him filled him with an eerie calm. Hundred of cavalry, silver armour polished to perfection. Hundreds of spears, a forest of murder. And above them, a flag, a Silver Dragon coiled around a Silver Spear. Crimson - Chapter 14 Tavak scrutinized the roughly drawn map in front of him. The defenses that he could see were not as substantial as he had thought. Despite this, the arrangement of the barricades and blockades further strengthened his belief that the Silver Moon was where the criminal hid. The defenses formed part of an arc. The arc in question faced towards the direction of Oslem, leaving the southern side undefended. His scouts reports making him inwardly gleeful that he had pushed his unit at such speed. According to his scout, the edges of the arc showed that they were in construction, not enough time or materials to finish. Tavak grinned savagely. Perhaps a completed defense would be as troublesome as harming a tortoise, but this horseshoe shaped construction was not. The heavens are helping me. The battle plan would be simple, mobilise their forces to the south and lead a thunderous charge to break the enemy''s ranks and to slaughter them. Their own defenses would serve to pen them in, like lambs to the slaughter. Such a battle didn''t need the arduous planning of the previous two, where magefire, flanking units and sentry units had to be utilized to prevent the mercenaries escape. Tavak immediately gave the order to mobilize to the south of their target, leaving a few units to watch the walls, in case some tried to escape their assualt. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ Dike hurried through the camp towards the central tent, along the way making sure to kick away all the sleeping men in his path. ¡°Wake them all up. Get into gear we¡¯re under attack!¡± They may be laidback, sly and lazy, but these men who lived on the edge of a blade knew when to play around and when to be serious. The path that Dike took to the central tent was punctuated by outcries of pain and spreading fear, the men waking quickly. It didn''t take long for streams of men to rush to their predetermined positions, fully armed. For men who lived and died by the blade, to have their equipment out of reach was a sin that spelt death. After making rounds to the tents housing important central members, Dike led them to the central tent. ¡°Dike? Whats going on? For you to raise the entire camp up, could it be a Beast Tide?¡± The question led to sharp inhalations as the fear in the surrounding men''s eyes deepened. They who lived in the outskirts of human civilization were aware of what it meant to be caught outside Oslem in such times. Save the nomadic tribes who hid these methods fanatically, anyone else caught in a Tide would die without a doubt. The fearful eyes bored into Dike, begging him to refute the possibility. ¡°No. But there is a troop of human soldiers to the north.¡± The reason was met with sighs of relief. Unknown to their compatriots, three men among them showed a shocked expression, clearly contrasting. You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author. ¡°What. It''s just this? Was it really necessary to wake us up?¡± Grumbles filled the tent. At first they were forced to quick march deep into the Desolate, then made to set up defenses, a practice they had never before carried out. Now their well earned sleep had been disturbed? They were lawless men that lived by their own whims and were prone to take extreme actions for their displeasure. What came next, however, stopped the dissenters in their tracks an anxiety filled tension palpable in the air. ¡°They killed Jared. I sent him to find their intentions...and I hope the few of you know what that meant.¡± Dikes voice was grim, lying so smoothly that even he was surprised. He didn''t think he would be found out, Jared having left with Graveths group anyway. ¡°What are the bastards numbers?¡± The man who spoke was named Keith, one of the three who had remained behind. Dike silently praised his friend, his question masterfully moved attention from the lie as well as possibilities of negotiation and focused on the mystery troop - painting them as the enemy. ¡°A few hundred, should be a match for our own. They seem to be cavalry.¡± The answer brought surprise. Such a large troop appeared from nowhere to attack them? ¡°Could they be here to subjugate the tribes? It''s possible that they mistook us as nomads.¡± This time the second man, Roff spoke out. ¡°I thought so too, but Jared was clearly in mercenary garb, flying our colours.¡± Though they didn''t want to accept the grim reality, the men sobered up as they stared at Dike for orders. Now was not the time to question the opponent''s motives, they had to take defensive action in case of an attack. ¡°The defenses have been partially built. We can use them to protect our backs.¡± Dike immediately proposed a plan. ¡°The caltrops that we made originally for the Desolate Beasts will be effective against their cavalry. Their only option will be to attack from the south.¡± The surrounding men nodded. Dike continued, ¡°We need to hold out as long as possible. If we send a messenger to Graveth, hopefully he can persuade the nomads to ambush them from behind.¡± ¡°They would never move without benefits.¡± Olin said skeptically. ¡°They have no choice. If we tell them that the troop is here to subjugate them, they will jump at the opportunity - after all their wives and children are in danger. If their warriors combine with us, the end result is set in stone.¡± When the surrounding men were in agreement, Dike put forward his nomination, ¡°I think Serg should be the messenger. He is after all the fastest.¡± No one objected, after all, Dike, Keith, Roff and Serg were old hands. There from the beginning. Crimson - Chapter 15 Tavak studied the bristling wall in front of him. He had expected the response but facing the bristling spear walls filled him with expectation. Some may die...but it¡¯ll definitely be a good fight. The back and flanks were protected. His previous plan to simply smash through by surprise them had been foiled by their alertness. Could they have a sensory rune bearer? Haha if its like this¡­ ¡°Charles!¡± ¡°Yes, Young Master?¡± His highest ranked subordinate immediately saluted him. ¡°Order the men to rest.¡± ¡°My Lord?¡± ¡°Since we can¡¯t ambush them, let the men recover. In any case they¡¯re our last target.¡± ¡°Yes, My Lord.¡± The command was received with almost inaudible sighs of relief, causing Tavaks brows to furrow in displeasure. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ ¡°What are they doing?¡± The fidgety man next to Bryan asked. His hunting spear waving in the air as he gestured wildly. Bryan was more worried than confused. He had searched for Toale as soon as the news of an enemy reached him. His friend couldn''t be found at his tent or among his usual hunting group, Olin having gone to the command group. Maybe he¡¯s with Captain Graveth at the central tent. The thought was comforting, the young man was the closest thing to a family for him and the thought of losing him filled Bryan with dread. In cases of emergency, the mercenary party had a policy where each man had to report to an assigned superior. From there the groups could be ordered much more cohesively. This concept had been in place for years, and this was the first time it was in use. Centered in the back row of his group, Bryan peeked over his fellows heads, a crimson glow accumulating around his eyes as he too wondered what was happening. Directly opposite them was a silver army, but the surprising fact was that they were dismounting rather than launching an attack. He waited patiently, his body randomly subjected to adrenaline shocks each and every time some fool cried out in alarm. Standing there the whole night after the draining hunt, Bryan nodded off, his spear held in a death grip. If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ A night of missed sleep was nothing to the men in command of the Silver Moon. Each of their runes had been tempered through countless dances and the amount of blood consolidated within was terrifying. The actions of the enemy were a pressing concern. With Dike and the two others constant brain washing, they could not see the men opposite as anything otherwise. ¡°Do you think someone should go there and find out what''s going on?¡± A bored voice broke the silent vigil. ¡°Are you volunteering?¡± Snapped Roff. ¡°Urgh.¡± The man in question shut his mouth immediately. Dike was getting anxious. Attack already, damnit. The constant lying was wearing down on him. To make matters worse, the enemies inaction was giving rise to doubt among the other senior members. ¡°I could go.¡± The statement caused the gathered men to stare surprisedly at the speaker. Keith continued, ¡°Dike may have been mistaken about their intentions. Maybe they accidentally took out Jared. Maybe they thought it was a beast or nomad.¡± Complaints and concerns quickly rose. Many persuading him not to risk it. Among them however, few of the speakers were sincere, instead using clever wording to goad him into the role. Dikes facade slipped, barely revealing the whirlpool of sorrow. He too gave his blessing as he turned, not daring to look his compatriot in the eye. He too knew that was necessary, to quell any suspicions. If Keith had not volunteered then someone else might have - that was the worst possible situation. Is it worth it? The thought left as quickly as it appeared, an image of flames scouring the sky forcefully steeling his resolve. I wish you luck my friend. May we meet in the next life. Crimson - Chapter 16 Tavak was not happy with the disruption, His meal cooling on the side as he made his displeasure evident. ¡°You are?¡± ¡°Keith Fletch, servant of the Bloody Sun.¡± The response broke Tavaks boredom as his face lit up. The hellish journey through the mountain, the pursuing of mercenaries through the Desolate, all in search of an intangible hope. This was the first time that he had confirmation that he was not chasing after a shadow, that his enemy was present. ¡°Haha. Well then Keith, to what do I owe this pleasure.¡± The response was out of his expectations. ¡°The Bloody Sun demands that you move your forces back, or face the repercussions.¡± It took a moment for Tavak to recover, before bursting into laughter. ¡°You think you¡¯re in the position to command me?¡± ¡°Hmph. A whelp like you? You think you¡¯re worthy of being an enemy of the Bloody Sun? Brat you''re a hundred years too early!¡± Keith sneered. The disdain in his voice tangible, clearly displeased with having to address the young man before him. Tavaks eyes narrowed, the mirth on his face disappearing without a trace. His usual demeanor as the handsome prodigy of the Empire was replaced with a mask of coldness, the pupils in his eyes morphing into slits birthing an icy killing intent. Tavak considered himself to be intelligent, and he was, thus what he hated the most in the world was ignorance - when did it become the turn of the hunted to make demands of the hunter? His rune beat, causing primal urges to slaughter fill his mind, the pressure in the area increasing, making those around him have difficulty breathing. As quickly as it appeared the venomous glare disappeared, the contrast giving rise to an even more hair tingling fear. This was not fear of death. A man like Keith who had sworn to die while fighting the Empire did not fear death. This was a more primal fear. The instinctive fear of an apex predator. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ ¡°The noble said that if we swear an oath upon our ancestors and sell ourselves into slavery, he may consider sparing our lives.¡± The dumbfounded silence was shattered by cries of indignation, of anger. They cursed the nobles nine generations and their desire to fight rose without end. ¡°These bastards! Do we look like toys?¡± This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it. ¡°They got bored in their capitals, so they come to hunt us like dogs?¡± ¡°Good, good. The Desolate has no eyes. Has no ears. These soft nobles have chosen a brilliant location for their graves!¡± ¡°Brothers, since they give us no escape, we can only kill!¡± ¡°Kill!¡± ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ ¡°Triton, Gerald and Ged will move with me. I¡¯ll take 200 men. Charles, You have the other 300. Make sure to threaten them, don''t get pulled into a confrontation till I attack.¡± ¡°My Lord, if see an opportunity¡­¡± ¡°Lead the charge when there''s a hole in their defense.¡± Charles cursed. The others may not realize, but the Young Masters order to lead the charge didn''t mean to command, but to throw himself into the front line. Next time the Young Masters angry I¡¯ll keep my mouth shut. The command tent was filled with nods of acknowledgement. Tavak rose from his seat as he led three men towards their mounts. The Silver Dragon unit was a cavalry unit composed of body enhancers, mage units having their positions elsewhere in the army. Triton, Gerald and Ged where magi of water, fire and earth respectively. They were not military men but Tavaks direct subordinates. He had intended to delay the attack. To draw them out, not wishing to encounter the spear walls. The mercenaries having been there for only a short time, there would definitely be a shortage of food. If he had harassed and suppressed them then a confrontation in the field would be inevitable. His cavalry would have the absolute advantage in mobility to crush the enemy with two pronged attacks. This was the safe plan. The plan with the least casualties and highest rate of success. What he was planning now would be labelled as impetuous and rife with uncertainty. But he wasn''t rash. He was young and the young value their pride. This was the pride of the Silver Spear. This was a lesson to the world. He was the protagonist...And the battlefield his stage!