《The Way Of The Lost》


 Ch 1: The beginning of the way

    It was an unremarkable day. Heavy rain was pouring, and an old man sat alone on a bench near his house under a canopy, sipping mead. His house was situated near the entrance of the village. Although the man was old, his eyesight was still quite sharp, and from a distance, he noticed a dark figure approaching on horseback. As the old man described him, it was a young man dressed in a black cloak, worn-out boots, and gloves. The rider was heading toward the village at a slow pace, neither galloping nor hurrying, as if nothing was pressing him.


    "Who might you be?" the old man asked when the rider passed before him.


    The man in the black cloak stopped his white horse, dismounted, and approached the old man at an unhurried pace. Yet, his every movement was peculiar, which surprised the old man. His steps were both confident and stealthy, like those of an assassin or a spy, yet elegant and graceful, akin to those of royalty.


    "Vitald," the man replied. "I¡¯m a wanderer seeking shelter for the night. I was sleeping under a tree when the rain began to pour, so I had to find another place to stay. By the way, could you tell me where I might find a place to spend the night?"


    "Over there, at that tavern," the old man said, observing the traveler closely. "I think you¡¯ll find a spot there. By the way, you¡¯re not a knight, are you?"


    "Unfortunately, no," Vitald replied, resting a hand on the sword hanging at his left side. "I¡¯m more of a common killer than a gallant warrior. I don¡¯t save lives out of gratitude or defend villages from monsters out of a sense of justice... unless I¡¯m paid for it."


    "Well, I see things differently. You only say that. I was a knight in my youth and have seen many kinds of people. I can tell at a glance who someone truly is. You¡¯re different. You just want to seem like a bad person," the old man said, finishing the last of his mead. "Well, farewell, Vitald."


    Vitald smiled, bowed slightly, and headed toward the tavern the old man had recommended. As he approached, he heard shouting, singing, and laughter. This didn¡¯t surprise Vitald. After all, it was evening¡ªwhat else would a simple villager do but drink with friends at the tavern? He stepped inside, lowered his hood, glanced around, and walked to the counter.


    "What can I get you, sir?" the innkeeper asked, eyeing the large scar crossing the traveler¡¯s cheek.


    "I¡¯d like to stay here for the night, if possible," Vitald said, gripping a black medallion with a bloodied rose in the center, made of red ruby, in his left hand.


    "There¡¯s a room upstairs. It¡¯ll cost you 10 rugels for the night. Would you like anything to drink?"


    "A bottle of wine."


    Vitald pulled a large, heavy pouch of coins from his pocket and tossed it onto the counter. The sound drew the attention of several people sitting near the window. Vitald took a seat at an empty table, opened the bottle, and decided to listen in on the conversations around him. As in every tavern, inn, or roadside stop he had visited, people were talking about politics, the hardships of life, and other mundane matters. As he was finishing his wine, Vitald overheard two merchants discussing an impending war between the kingdom of Tleria and the kingdom of Lydania.The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.


    "King Arthur Cast¡¯s troops have already crossed the Deulopert River," a dwarven merchant said to his companion. "I think they¡¯ll reach Lydania¡¯s borders by next week."


    "Indeed, and Lydania¡¯s king, Ruediger the Third, has done nothing in response," the other dwarf replied. "Why would King Arthur decide to attack Lydania? Everything seemed fine, with no signs of trouble."


    "Arthur¡¯s a fool, too young to rule a country. His father was a wise man¡ªpity he passed away. They say he was murdered, but no one knows for sure. And so, his son was forced onto the throne."


    Finishing his bottle of white wine, Vitald pulled a few coins from his pouch, placed them on the table, and went to his room, pondering what he had overheard from the dwarves.


    "Could Ruediger the Third really be hoping for peace with Tleria?" Vitald thought as he placed the medallion around his neck. "Or is it all the fault of the new sorcerer, recently appointed as the king¡¯s chief advisor? And why would King Arthur choose to attack? Perhaps he doesn¡¯t want war at all¡­ though that seems unlikely. Would he gather an army of that size just to negotiate?"


    Entering his room, Vitald set his bag on a chair, removed his cloak, ran a hand through his long, chestnut-colored hair, stretched his neck, and lay down to sleep.


    "Check over there," an unfamiliar voice whispered in the silence. "Quiet, idiot, or you¡¯ll wake him up."


    "There¡¯s nothing here. He must¡¯ve hidden it," a second voice muttered in the darkness.


    Vitald woke as soon as the door to his room creaked open. He kept his eyes closed and pretended to be asleep. He recognized the voices¡ªthey belonged to the men from the tavern who had been drinking and laughing loudly.


    "They¡¯re probably here for my money," Vitald thought. "I don¡¯t feel like killing anyone tonight. If they leave quietly, I¡¯ll let them go."


    "Check under the pillow, Albert," one voice said. "Maybe he hid it under the pillow."


    "You do it! What if he wakes up?" Albert replied. "I don¡¯t want to get killed. I¡¯ve got a wife and kids to feed. You check, Golbert."


    "Coward," Golbert sneered. "Fine, I¡¯ll do it myself."


    Golbert reached for the pillow but barely had time to react before Vitald grabbed his sword and sliced off his hand. The man screamed in agony, his cries echoing through the tavern. Vitald rose swiftly, approached Albert, and pressed the blade to his throat but refrained from killing him.


    "Why are you here?" the swordsman demanded. "Did you come for the money, or did someone send you? Speak!"


    "We¡¯re sorry! We just saw your big pouch of coins and decided to steal it. Please forgive us..." Albert stammered, on the verge of tears.


    "You bastard, I¡¯ll kill you!" Golbert screamed through his pain.


    Vitald lowered his sword, gestured for Albert to leave, and approached Golbert. Grabbing him by the collar, he lifted him off the ground, his gaze fierce and murderous. Golbert immediately understood, tore himself free, and fled toward the door. He ran and ran, blood gushing from his wound, but he didn¡¯t feel the pain until he collapsed face-first into the dirt. At last, the full weight of his injury hit him, and he began to scream at the top of his lungs. The commotion woke the villagers, who gathered around, while Vitald watched from his window.


    "Who are you?" Albert asked, still standing at the doorway of the terrifying swordsman¡¯s room.


    "Just an ordinary killer who shouldn¡¯t exist," Vitald said, looking at him with eyes as lifeless as a corpse¡¯s.


    Albert fled toward the cries of his brother, unable to grasp the meaning of Vitald¡¯s words. The swordsman gripped the medallion hanging from his neck, approached the window, gazed at the moon, and thought: "It looks just like it did that day¡­ doesn¡¯t it, Gef?"

 Ch 2: The Gorge

    Early in the morning, as soon as the sun appeared on the horizon, Vitald set out on his horse toward Lidania. It was located in the western part of the kingdom of Braenn.


    "I guess I''ll reach the border with Lidania by noon," thought Vitald. "Maybe I''ll find some work there, especially since a war seems to be brewing."


    Vitald earned his living as a killer. Armies often hired him for a decent fee. Merchants also hired him for protection against bandits and even monsters, though Vitald preferred not to deal with the latter. Thanks to his skills, he had earned himself a solid reputation as a skilled warrior and even gained the nickname "Mage Slayer."


    The sun was at its zenith. Vitald rode leisurely along the road. Around him were nothing but fields and not a single living soul. Ahead, two tall cliffs could be seen, with a small passage between them. This was the border between Lidania and Braenn. People usually avoided this passage because of the risk of a rockfall. To Vitald''s surprise, a cart was standing near the passage.


    "Greetings," said a middle-aged man standing near the cart. "Are you heading to Lidania too?"


    "Yes," Vitald replied as he dismounted from his mare. "And why are you standing here?"


    "Well, you see, I don''t know whether to go through the gorge or take the long way around. I''m already running late and don''t want to lose more time on the road."


    "If you''re not afraid, I can lead you through the gorge. I know a bit of magic and can create an earth shield if needed."


    The man looked at the swordsman with a mixture of astonishment and fear but eventually agreed.


    "Thank you so much. I''ll take you up on your help. What''s your name?"


    "Vitald."


    "Henry. I''m a traveling merchant."


    The two travelers mounted their horses and headed for the gorge. At the entrance, there was a sign warning of danger, but that didn''t stop them. Naturally, the merchant was anxious, but seeing Vitald''s confidence, he worried less. They dismounted and walked on foot. The length of the gorge was about one verst.


    "Where are you headed?" the merchant asked, looking upward.


    "To the capital. I''m looking for work," Vitald replied.


    "I see. I''m returning home. I''m from the village of Vidimka, about a hundred versts from the capital."


    "Aren''t you worried?"


    "About what?"


    "The war. Haven''t you heard?"


    "I''ve heard. I think it''ll bypass us. Our ruler is not foolish and won''t allow unnecessary bloodshed."


    "I understand," Vitald replied with uncertainty in his voice.


    They continued walking in silence, occasionally glancing upward. As they neared the much-desired exit, Vitald felt something was wrong¡ªa strange sensation came over him. He became alert. Vitald trusted his instincts; they had saved his life on the battlefield more than once.Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original.


    They kept walking, but Vitald kept his hand on his sword, ready for the unexpected. Nothing happened, though, and they safely exited the gorge.


    "Oh, the heavens are kind to us!" exclaimed Henry joyfully. "Thank you, Vitald."


    "No problem, you''re welco...." Vitald started to reply but didn''t finish. Instead, he drew his sword from its sheath and turned around.


    Out of the forest, a group of men appeared on two carts. Vitald immediately realized they weren''t just travelers¡ªthey were bandits.


    "You need to pay a toll to pass. This is our territory unless you want trouble," said the largest of the bandits in a rough, raspy voice.


    "I''ve never heard of such rules," Vitald smirked, spinning his sword.


    "Me neither," the merchant quietly agreed. "I''ve traveled this way many times and never heard of this."


    "Ahaha! Heard or not, doesn''t matter. You still have to pay!"


    "And what if we don''t want to?" Vitald said with a sly grin, clearly mocking them.


    "Oh, so you don''t want to cooperate, huh?" The large man jumped off the cart, holding an axe in his hand.


    "There are eight of them, but only four are armed," Vitald thought. "Hide behind the cart, Henry."


    The merchant obeyed and took cover behind the cart. Vitald cautiously began approaching the largest bandit.


    "He''s mine. Stay out of it," the big man said, cracking his neck.


    Vitald held his sword with both hands in front of him. The large man with the axe stood three steps away, holding the weapon in his right hand. Vitald decided to make a feint to provoke the man into attacking, and it worked. The bandit swung horizontally with his axe. Vitald ducked under the blow, closed the distance, and slashed his stomach open with his sword. The man fell to his knees, holding his intestines in his hands, and a few seconds later, he collapsed face-first into the dirt.


    Two more bandits immediately charged at Vitald. The first swung his axe overhead, but Vitald spun and decapitated him. The second hesitated slightly, which allowed Vitald to close the gap and stab him through the solar plexus with his sword. Pulling his sword out, Vitald shook it clean of blood and glared at the remaining five men with fiery eyes. Just as he was about to approach the last armed bandit, they fled in fear.


    Vitald wiped his sword clean of blood and sheathed it behind his back, though he usually carried it at his left side.


    "You handled them well," Henry said, stepping out from behind the cart.


    Vitald remained silent.


    An awkward pause hung in the air. Henry didn''t know what to say, and Vitald could see that the merchant was a bit afraid of him.


    "Understandable. Not every day does an ordinary merchant witness such carnage," Vitald thought.


    "I think it''s time we part ways. I''m heading in a different direction. Thanks again," the merchant finally said.


    "Take care, Henry."


    "Stop by if you''re ever near my village. We''ll treat you like family."


    Vitald smiled and nodded. They went their separate ways.


    Vitald galloped toward the capital, hoping to arrive before Tleria''s forces reached the border with Lidania.

 Ch 3: The Cave

    Three days had passed since the parting with the wandering merchant Henry.


    During this time, Vitald hardly stopped: he galloped forward, taking brief


    breaks only to let his mare rest and to stretch and have a bite himself. At


    night, he slept under the trees, as he hadn''t encountered a single village


    along his path.


    Finally, after several days of travel, he spotted a village in the distance.


    The sun was beginning to set, and Vitald felt a wave of relief: at last, he


    could rest on a bed or at least something soft. After all, his back was


    starting to ache from the nights spent on the cold ground.


    Moreover, ahead lay the promise of a proper, cooked meal. Over the past few


    days, he had made do with whatever he could find: the dried meat he had bought


    at the tavern had run out on the first day, leaving him to hunt hares and


    birds. Thankfully, his crossbow was always within reach.


    As he approached the village, however, Vitald felt a vague unease. Everything


    around him was eerily silent. There were no children''s voices, no women by the


    river washing clothes. Only an oppressive, absolute silence.


    ¡°Maybe it¡¯s an abandoned village?¡± he thought, dismounting from his horse.


    But upon entering the village, he realized he was wrong. Gifted with a keen


    sense of smell and hearing from birth, Vitald immediately caught the heavy


    stench of rotting flesh lingering in the air. It felt as though eyes were


    watching him from every shadowy window.


    ¡°Goblins,¡± he muttered, gripping the hilt of his sword but leaving it


    sheathed for now. ¡°Not just a couple¡ªbut an entire settlement.¡±


    Approaching the nearest house, he kicked the door open with a powerful


    strike and rushed inside. There were three goblins in the room: short creatures,


    with swampy, dark green skin, long ears, hooked noses, and small malicious


    eyes. One wore a helmet¡ªlikely taken from an unlucky warrior¡ªanother held an


    old, rusty sword, and the third, one-eyed and unarmed, glared menacingly. In


    the corner of the room lay the lifeless body of a woman clutching a child in


    her arms.


    With a howl, the unarmed goblin lunged at Vitald. The swordsman reacted


    instantly, drawing his blade, pivoting to the side, and letting the creature


    miss its mark. While the goblin stumbled to regain balance, Vitald turned his


    attention to the one wielding the rusty sword. The creature attempted to block


    his attack, but its weapon shattered on impact. Vitald was about to deliver a


    killing blow when he felt the one-eyed goblin leap onto his back, while the


    helmeted one clung to his leg.


    ¡°Damn pesky pests!¡± he cursed, fumbling for the bloodied rose medallion


    hanging around his neck. Gripping it tightly, he shouted, ¡°Da cuadro!¡±


    A surge of magical energy erupted, flinging the goblins into the corners of


    the room. Before they could recover, Vitald dashed toward the one with the


    broken sword and drove his blade through its neck. The one-eyed goblin,


    regaining its senses, prepared to jump again, but Vitald swiftly pulled a


    dagger from the sheath on his thigh and hurled it straight into the creature¡¯s


    chest.


    The remaining goblin, still wearing its helmet, shrank into a corner,


    trembling. It whimpered in its guttural tongue, covering its head with its


    hands. Vitald stepped closer, crouched down, and with an icy glare asked:


    ¡°Do you want me to spare you? Did you spare that woman and her child?¡±


    The goblin turned its head toward the mutilated bodies of the woman and her


    child before glancing back at Vitald. It began to sob.


    With a soft hiss, the sword¡¯s blade slashed through the goblin¡¯s neck. The


    creature gurgled, clutching its wound, and within moments fell silent.


    Vitald rose to his feet and glanced out the window.


    ¡°There must be a cave nearby; otherwise, they couldn¡¯t have gotten here,¡± he


    mused, wiping the blood from his blade. ¡°The sun¡¯s still high. I need to take a


    look around.¡±


    Emerging onto the street, he began his search, moving quickly, knowing that


    goblins loathed sunlight and would likely remain hidden.


    ¡°Goblins are weak creatures, but in numbers¡­ even a skilled swordsman could


    be overwhelmed. And if their group is led by a shaman¡ªor worse, a Goblin


    King¡ªeven I might not survive,¡± he thought, scanning every corner of the


    village for signs of an entrance to a cave.


    After scouring the entire area, he found nothing. The sun was already


    dipping toward the horizon, painting the sky in hues of gold and red. Returning


    to the first house where he had fought the goblins, Vitald noticed an open


    trapdoor in a neighboring room leading downward.


    ¡°So that¡¯s how they got here¡­ The villagers must have dug this passage and


    accidentally stumbled upon the goblins¡¯ lair,¡± he speculated, drawing his


    sword. ¡°Another damn headache.¡±


    Deciding not to risk exploring in haste, Vitald chose to postpone his


    investigation until morning. He spent the night behind a hill, away from the


    village. Though he despised goblins, his sense of caution told him that


    nightfall was not the best time to delve into dangerous places.


    ¡°The Hunters¡¯ Guild will surely pay handsomely for clearing this place,¡± he


    thought, climbing onto his horse and heading toward his makeshift campsite.


    Settling in behind the hill, he decided to watch for any activity at the


    cave entrance. His suspicions were confirmed when a group of twenty goblins


    emerged. Among them were two shamans and an imposing Goblin King. Ensuring he


    wasn¡¯t spotted, Vitald retreated further into cover and lay down to rest,


    knowing he would need his strength for what lay ahead.


    At the first light of dawn, he was already up, contemplating the challenge


    ahead.


    ¡°A Goblin King¡­ His head alone would fetch a fine price. But is it worth the


    risk? That brute may be as big as an orc, but his mind is no better than an


    ordinary goblin¡¯s,¡± he reasoned, inspecting his gear.


    Arriving back at the village, he tied his horse to a post and retrieved a


    smaller sword from his saddlebag. The weapon was noticeably shorter than his


    usual blade, making it more practical for combat in tight spaces. Strapping the


    smaller sword to his left side and slinging the longer one across his back, he


    approached the house with the trapdoor.A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.


    Descending into the underground lair, Vitald cast a spell, conjuring a small


    flame in his hand to light his way. Clutching his sword in the other, he


    advanced cautiously. The tunnel was strewn with bones and the decayed remains


    of humans¡ªundoubtedly the unfortunate villagers. He moved silently, his every


    step measured. Eventually, the passage led to a ledge. Scanning the area, he


    noticed a path spiraling downward.


    At the lower level, he spotted a smoldering campfire and two slumbering


    goblins.


    ¡°Scouts. If they sound the alarm, I¡¯m done for,¡± he whispered.


    Extinguishing his magical flame, he drew his second sword and crept toward


    them. In one swift motion, he struck both goblins simultaneously, silencing


    them forever. Cleaning his blades, Vitald sheathed the longer sword, reignited


    the flame in his hand, and pressed onward.


    The tunnel eventually opened into a grand chamber. Peeking through a


    partially open door, Vitald saw a vast hall adorned with towering columns


    etched with ancient patterns. At the base of the columns, armed goblins dozed.


    At the far end of the hall, atop a massive stone throne, sat the Goblin King,


    his head resting heavily on one hand. To his left and right, on the throne¡¯s


    steps, lay two shamans, also asleep.


    ¡°If I can take out the King, it¡¯ll all be over. But getting to him won¡¯t be


    easy,¡± Vitald thought, gripping his sword tightly. Drawing a deep breath, he


    steeled himself and stepped inside.


    He walked down the center of the grand hall, each step calculated and


    silent. Around him, the oppressive stillness was broken only by the faint


    snores of sleeping goblins and the deep, rumbling breaths of the Goblin King.


    Vitald moved carefully, his eyes darting between the columns, the slumbering


    foes, and the massive figure on the throne. He tightened his grip on his blade,


    every sense heightened, ready for the inevitable.


    Suddenly, his foot pressed down on something wrong. A faint click echoed


    through the hall. Vitald''s instincts took over, and he leaped to the side,


    performing a quick roll just as sharp spikes shot out from the floor where he


    had stepped. The loud metallic clatter reverberated through the chamber,


    shattering the quiet.


    Groggy goblins stirred awake, blinking and snarling in confusion. The


    shamans, startled, began chanting, their guttural voices filling the space. The


    Goblin King, with a deafening roar, straightened on his throne, his eyes


    blazing with fury.


    ¡°Damn it, what a stupid mistake!¡± Vitald hissed through gritted teeth as he


    sprang to his feet. He had no time to dwell on his misstep. The goblins were


    already scrambling to arm themselves, and the shamans were weaving their dark


    magic. He needed to act fast.


    ¡°Za laflit!¡± he shouted, thrusting his hand forward.


    A dense black fog erupted around him, blanketing the hall and disorienting


    his enemies. Goblins stumbled, their weapons clattering to the ground as they


    coughed and growled, unable to see. Vitald used the chaos to his advantage. He


    turned toward a group of four goblins rushing through the mist. Drawing his


    short sword, he hurled it into the chest of the first. Gripping his long blade


    with both hands, he cut down the second with a single strike. Spinning on his


    heel, he drove the tip of his sword into the third goblin¡¯s chest before


    yanking the shorter blade from the first goblin¡¯s corpse. The final goblin


    lunged at him, but Vitald was faster, slicing through the creature mid-air.


    The fog began to thin, revealing a gruesome scene of lifeless goblins


    scattered across the stone floor. Three more goblins, seeing the carnage, froze


    in terror. Their trembling hands dropped their weapons, and they turned to


    flee. But before they could take more than a few steps, the Goblin King let out


    a monstrous roar, halting them in their tracks. The sheer force of his voice


    seemed to shake the hall, commanding the remaining goblins to fight.


    ¡°Cowards,¡± Vitald muttered, his eyes narrowing as he prepared for the next


    wave.


    ¡°Ousind!¡± he called out, slamming his palm against the ground.


    With a thunderous rumble, a wall of stone erupted from the floor, cutting


    off the charging goblins. The first one collided with the wall headfirst and


    crumpled to the ground. Using the brief moment of distraction, Vitald darted


    toward the throne. The shamans, recovering from their shock, unleashed a


    blazing orb of fire at him. The heat of the spell rushed toward him, but Vitald


    leaped into a roll, narrowly avoiding the inferno. The fireball crashed into a


    column behind him, incinerating the goblins who had been chasing him.


    He was closing in on the Goblin King now. The enormous creature rose to his


    feet, grabbing two shamans by their necks and flinging them at Vitald like ragdolls.


    ¡°Quantrum!¡± Vitald yelled, raising his hand.


    A surge of magical wind blasted the shamans aside, sending them crashing


    into the walls. Without breaking stride, he adjusted his grip on his sword and


    charged at the King. But the massive creature was ready. With a ferocious


    swing, he brought down his colossal club. Vitald barely had time to react. The


    force of the strike sent him flying, slamming him into the far wall. He


    collapsed to the ground, gasping for air, pain radiating through his body.


    ¡°Damn¡­ He hits hard,¡± Vitald groaned, gingerly touching his side. ¡°Left arm¡­


    dislocated. Ribs¡­ Definitely broken.¡±


    He pushed himself up, leaning against the wall for support. With a grimace,


    he yanked his dislocated arm back into place, biting back a scream of pain. He


    quickly retrieved a small vial of healing potion from his pouch, drinking it in


    one swift motion. The pain dulled slightly, but the potion was weak¡ªit wouldn¡¯t


    be enough to fix his injuries.


    The Goblin King, undeterred, lumbered toward him, each step causing the


    ground to tremble. Vitald grabbed his sword, using it as a crutch to stand.


    From his pouch, he pulled another vial¡ªthis one filled with a dark purple


    liquid. Without hesitation, he drank it, feeling its effects immediately. The


    world around him seemed to slow. His ears caught every faint sound, his eyes


    tracked every movement, and he could feel the vibrations of the King¡¯s steps in


    the very air.


    ¡°Alright, let¡¯s see what you¡¯ve got,¡± Vitald growled, gripping his blade


    tightly.


    He dashed toward the King, his heightened senses giving him an edge. While


    the King¡¯s movements were powerful, they were also slow and predictable. Vitald


    aimed for the creature¡¯s legs, hoping to sever them, but his sword merely


    glanced off the thick, muscular flesh.


    ¡°Damn it¡­ Even my blade can¡¯t cut through him. Think, Vitald. Think!¡± he


    thought, retreating to assess his options.


    His eyes darted around the hall until they landed on a rope lying amidst the


    rubble. An idea formed. Sprinting toward the rope, he snatched it up, gripping


    it between his teeth as he closed the distance to the King. The massive


    creature raised his club again, but Vitald rolled under it, dodging the blow.


    Leaping onto the King¡¯s back, he wrapped the rope around the beast¡¯s thick neck


    and began to pull with all his strength.


    The Goblin King roared, thrashing wildly in an attempt to dislodge him.


    Vitald clung on, his muscles screaming in protest as the King¡¯s clawed hands


    reached for him. Each swing of the King¡¯s arms sent waves of pain through


    Vitald¡¯s battered body, but he gritted his teeth and pulled harder.


    With a final, choked gasp, the King fell to his knees. His bloodshot eyes


    bulged, and his immense body convulsed before collapsing with a deafening


    crash. The ground quaked as the life drained from the monstrous ruler.


    Vitald released the rope and staggered to his feet, breathing heavily. He


    cast a weary glance at the fallen King, allowing himself a faint, victorious


    smirk. But his legs gave out, and he crumpled to the ground beside the lifeless


    creature.


    ¡°Bastard¡­¡± he muttered, weakly punching the King¡¯s massive head.


    For several minutes, he lay still, listening to the sound of his own labored


    breathing. Eventually, he forced himself upright, swallowing another healing


    potion. The pain subsided enough for him to gather his strength. He retrieved


    his swords, carefully sheathing them, and approached the King¡¯s corpse. Using


    his short blade, he severed the King¡¯s head, wrapping it in cloth before


    heading toward the exit.


    As he emerged from the cave, the cool night air hit his face. The moon hung


    high in the sky, its silver light illuminating the landscape.


    ¡°Took longer than expected,¡± Vitald murmured, gazing up at the stars.


    He secured the King¡¯s head to his saddle, took a final glance at the village


    to ensure no danger remained, and mounted his horse. Slowly, he rode away, the


    promise of a long journey back awaiting him.

 Ch 4: The Capital

    A few days after the Goblin King''s assassination, Vitald was already approaching the capital of Lidanium ¡ª Ekdengork.


    "Oh, wow!" Vitald exclaimed in admiration, gazing at the city. "It''s been a while since I was here. This city never ceases to amaze me."


    Ekdengork stood on an island surrounded by water, connected by four bridges leading from the cardinal directions. The island itself resembled a pyramid. From afar, five tall towers were visible, with the tallest standing at the center. It was said that a guardian dragon occasionally circled the tower, flying from the mountains, which was why it was depicted on Lidanium''s flag. The sound of bells echoed from the city, while numerous carts and people streamed across the bridges toward it. Beyond the city, in the north, massive snow-capped mountains shimmered under the first rays of the rising sun.


    Vitald lingered for a moment, admiring Ekdengork from afar, and then headed toward the bridge leading to the city. Riding across it, he looked up at the majestic towers, once again marveling at their architectural splendor.


    As he approached the city''s entrance, a queue caught his attention. It wasn''t particularly long, but neither was it short. Dismounting, Vitald decided to see what was happening. At the end of the line stood a few men in chainmail and one in red-and-blue armor, which Vitald instantly recognized as officer attire.


    Finally, after waiting in line, Vitald approached the men in military uniforms. Dismounting, he pulled his hood over his head and stepped toward them. One of the guards, a young, short man with dark skin uncommon in these parts and hazel-green eyes, spoke in a calm voice:


    "Your pass, please."


    "A pass?!" Vitald asked in confusion. "What pass?"


    "A pass to enter the city," replied the second guard harshly. This one had gray hair, a prominent, sharp nose, and a large scar cutting across his grim face.


    "I¡¯ve been to Ekdengork many times and never needed a pass," Vitald replied, scratching his head. "Granted, it¡¯s been a while, but still¡­"


    "The city is currently on high alert due to the advancing forces from Tleria," the young guard explained. "The council has decided that entry into the city is only allowed with passes to reduce the likelihood of spies infiltrating."


    "Why are you coddling him, Edgar?" barked the gray-haired guard. "No pass? Let him take his business elsewhere!"


    "Oh, come on, why so harsh? No need to stress yourself. At your age, your heart might not take it," Vitald teased with a smirk.


    The guard¡¯s eyes filled with fury, and he nearly shouted, "How dare you mock me, you insolent wretch?!"


    The younger guard looked nervously between his commander and the grinning traveler, who seemed to enjoy provoking the veteran. The gray-haired guard was already reaching for the sword at his side.


    "Stop!" Edgar quickly intervened, stepping between them and spreading his arms. "Gentlemen, let¡¯s calm down. Surely, there¡¯s been a misunderstanding."


    "Stay out of this, Edgar," the gray-haired man snapped. "Look at his face: a suspicious type, no doubt."


    "What¡¯s going on here?" came a sharp voice.


    Everyone turned to see a red-and-blue-armored officer approaching.


    "Nothing serious, Captain Olgerd," the young guard began. "We were just explaining to this gentleman why a pass is required."


    "Can you do it faster? The people in line are already annoyed!" Olgerd demanded sternly. "Odenberg, if you don¡¯t speed up, I¡¯ll send you to clean the stables. Understood?"


    Odenberg scowled but nodded. "Understood, Captain. No objections."


    Turning to Vitald, Olgerd looked him over carefully.


    "And who are you?" he asked.


    Vitald removed his hood, smiled, and said, "Olgerd, have you already forgotten your old friends?"


    Olgerd''s eyes widened in recognition.


    "The Mage Slayer! Is it really you?!"


    "I don¡¯t like that nickname," Vitald replied with a wave of his hand.


    "Hah, of course, I remember you!" Olgerd laughed heartily. "Let him through immediately! He¡¯s an old friend of mine. We¡¯ve fought both alongside and against each other. Hahaha!"This novel is published on a different platform. Support the original author by finding the official source.


    The guards stepped aside without hesitation. Vitald took his horse by the reins, smiled at Edgar, winked at Odenberg, and entered the city.


    "What brings you here, Vitald, my friend?" Olgerd asked as he caught up with him. "This isn¡¯t the best time for a visit, you know. We¡¯re on the brink of war with Tleria. King Arthur¡¯s forces are already moving toward our borders. And our king, Rudeger¡­ he does nothing. I simply don¡¯t understand him."


    "Troubled times are approaching, my friend," Vitald replied, leading his horse alongside. "I came to offer my help to Lidanium¡¯s army. Perhaps you¡¯ll hire me?"


    "Well, then!" Olgerd grinned, clapping his friend on the shoulder. "Of course, any help is welcome now, especially from a skilled warrior like you. Welcome to the ranks of Lidanium¡¯s defenders."


    "I¡¯ll be glad to fight alongside you, like in the old days."


    "I still hope it won¡¯t come to unnecessary bloodshed," Olgerd said, frowning. "Maybe our king will finally come to his senses and realize this war will lead to nothing good. Anyway, glad to see you, but I need to go to a council meeting. We¡¯ll discuss the current situation and our next steps. Do you have a place to stay? If not, you¡¯re welcome to stay at my home. My wife won¡¯t mind, I think."


    "Thank you for the offer, but I¡¯ll rent a room at a tavern. I have enough money. On my way here, I cleared out a village infested with goblins." Vitald pulled a cloth-wrapped bundle from his saddlebag and unwrapped it. "Here, the head of their king. I¡¯ll turn it in to the Monster Hunters¡¯ Guild. Maybe they¡¯ll throw in some coins for clearing the village too."


    "You never cease to amaze me, Vitald," Olgerd laughed. "I¡¯ll be at the ¡®Cliffside Tavern¡¯ after the council meeting. Come by, and we¡¯ll catch up."


    Olgerd gave his friend a strong embrace, then strode briskly toward the central tower. Vitald watched him until he disappeared into the crowd.


    "First, the guild for the reward. Then, I need to restock my potions¡ªI used nearly all of them in that cave. And I need to find a room. There was a good tavern in the western part of the city. Hopefully, it¡¯s still open," Vitald thought to himself.


    Olgerd entered the chamber, where a large rectangular table stood in the center. Seated around it were the kingdom''s vassals, representatives of the Church of the Crimson Sun, and the captains of the armed forces, among whom Olgerd was counted. Among the assembly, one figure stood out: a burly man in his middle years. A cross-shaped scar adorned his bald head, and a patch covered his left eye. His thick russet beard lent him a jovial appearance, but a powerful and intimidating aura radiated from him. This was none other than the army''s commander-in-chief, Gerdman Fridger.


    ¡°Olgerd, sit here, next to me. I¡¯ve saved you a spot,¡± said a man at the table in a hushed voice.


    ¡°Hello, Pol. Thanks for the seat,¡± Olgerd replied, settling beside the man dressed in a uniform similar to his own.


    ¡°You¡¯re almost late,¡± Pol remarked.


    ¡°I ran into an old friend. We got caught up in conversation, and, well, here I am.¡±


    ¡°An old friend, huh? What kind of friend would make you risk being late for the king¡¯s council?¡±


    ¡°Remember the Battle of Grundve? We were outnumbered, the enemy¡¯s mage battalions were closing in, and one guy single-handedly took them all down. That¡¯s him.¡±


    ¡°Oh, yes, I remember. Back then, I thought we were doomed. His name was Vitald, wasn¡¯t it?¡±


    ¡°Exactly. He even offered to join our army afterward. Quite the stroke of luck. But don¡¯t get any ideas¡ªhe¡¯s going to be in my unit.¡±


    ¡°No arguments here.¡±


    Suddenly, the room fell silent as everyone rose from their seats. Two guards entered, followed by a tall, slender man with a neatly trimmed black goatee and slicked-back hair. Around his neck hung an amulet, and his fox-like grin was hard to miss. He walked calmly, his hands clasped behind his back, acknowledging the respectful nods of those he passed. Reaching the end of the table, he took his seat at the head.


    ¡°Well, you may all be seated,¡± the man said, lightly touching the amulet around his neck. ¡°Let¡¯s begin our council. As you all know, our dear monarch is currently unwell and unable to attend this meeting. Therefore, by the order of Lord Rudeger III, I will preside over this council. I am Azrael, the king¡¯s chief advisor and the kingdom of Lidanium¡¯s high mage.¡±


    The assembled council members exchanged uneasy glances. Commander Gerdman¡¯s smile faded into a stern expression, and the head of the Church of the Crimson Sun dabbed his sweaty forehead with a handkerchief, his face reflecting his dissatisfaction. Olgerd exchanged a quick look with Pol before turning his attention back to Azrael.


    ¡°I see not everyone is pleased with me taking the king¡¯s place,¡± Azrael continued after a brief pause. ¡°But what can we do? His Majesty personally asked me to step in, so I suggest you keep your grievances to yourselves. Now then, do any of you have proposals for handling the approaching forces of Tleria?¡±


    ¡°What¡¯s there to discuss?¡± one of the councilors exclaimed, abruptly rising from his chair. ¡°We need to send our troops and crush them! Show them where they don¡¯t belong! If we continue to delay, things will only get worse.¡±


    ¡°Perhaps we shouldn¡¯t act so rashly,¡± another man suggested. ¡°Why not send an envoy to negotiate with them?¡±


    ¡°We already tried that,¡± Azrael interjected, resting his chin on his intertwined fingers with a faint smile. ¡°They politely refused, sending back our envoy¡¯s head.¡±


    ¡°Then we have no choice but to attack!¡± the first councilor roared.


    ¡°Let¡¯s ask our commander-in-chief for his thoughts on the matter,¡± Azrael said, gesturing toward Gerdman.


    Gerdman, who had been sitting with his arms crossed and staring out the window, turned his head toward the grinning Azrael. Placing his hands on the table, he spoke in a confident, gravelly voice:


    ¡°I wouldn¡¯t deploy all our troops right away. We should start by sending scouts to gather precise intelligence about the enemy. Maybe sabotage their supplies. Then we¡¯ll decide on our next move.¡±


    ¡°Hmm, I tend to agree with you,¡± Azrael said with a nod. ¡°I think that¡¯s how we should proceed. What does the church think about this, Bishop?¡± he asked, turning to a portly man in crimson robes.


    The bishop stood up, wiped his forehead with his handkerchief once more, and replied:


    ¡°Killing in the name of defense is not a sin and will not incur the wrath of Saint Gyash.¡±


    ¡°Excellent. Then it¡¯s settled. We¡¯ll dispatch several scouting parties. Commander Gerdman, I trust you to oversee their selection. That concludes this matter. Let us now discuss the situation within the kingdom.¡±